Money, Lots of Money
Jolyon Leslie
The presence of the international community in Kabul is heralded by the intrusive squawk of car horns. Unmarked vehicles, with darkened glass and blazing lights, force their way through the chaos of taxis, handcarts and bicycles. Armed and masked gunmen hang out of the back, waving away other vehicles, cyclists or pedestrians who dare to get too close. The convoys stir up fear – you can feel it – and loathing. Afghans in taxis and buses stop talking and stare resentfully. When the tension subsides and the traffic inches forward again, the talk is of accidents, unprovoked shootings and worse.
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