Internet services were finally restored across much of Afghanistan on Wednesday, bringing an end to a two-day nationwide blackout. This sudden shutdown had previously crippled the country’s economy, left planes grounded, and fueled widespread speculation about its mysterious origins.
The unprecedented outage, which also cut off cellphone services, intensified the fear and isolation felt by millions of Afghans already struggling under the Taliban government’s severe limitations on personal liberties.
By Wednesday, most citizens remained completely in the dark about the cause of the disruption. Many Afghan officials, when contacted, either remained silent or admitted they had no explanation for either the initial blackout or its sudden reversal.
“I still don’t have the reason for the internet cutoff,” stated Inayatullah Alokozay, the spokesperson for the Afghan Ministry of Telecommunications.
This widespread shutdown followed a few weeks after the country’s supreme leader, Sheikh Haibatullah Akhundzada, had already ordered a partial internet crackdown. That earlier directive, issued on September 16, affected approximately half of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces.
An international diplomatic assessment, later confirmed by independent verification, suggested the nationwide shutdown was a result of a new decree from Mr. Akhundzada.
While earlier restrictions had still allowed mobile internet, by Monday, all telecommunication services had abruptly ceased.
For two bewildering days, Kabul, a bustling city of six million, fell into an unsettling silence. Security forces patrolled key areas, while government workers and ordinary citizens expressed utter confusion over the sudden shutdown.
With all banks shuttered, people were unable to collect their monthly salaries or receive vital remittances from family overseas – a critical blow to the nation’s struggling economy.
Essential public services ground to a halt; passports and national identification cards could not be processed. Hundreds of thousands of girls, already denied access to traditional schooling by the Taliban, found their online education lifeline severed, disconnecting them from the outside world.
Across the country, businesses were likewise brought to a standstill.
Aqa Gul Panjshiri, an importer of food, care products, and cigarettes, recounted how he was unable to track a container holding $150,000 worth of goods or collect payments from clients, which he needed to pay his 15 employees.
“I want the government to make it clear: Why is the internet cut off? And how long will it last?” Mr. Panjshiri pleaded on Wednesday.
The abrupt shutdown shocked Afghans both inside and outside the country, as well as business owners who had tirelessly worked to sustain Afghanistan’s fragile economy.
Foreign officials and diplomats in the region condemned the internet shutdown as a reckless act. Humanitarian aid organizations reported severe disruptions, hindering their efforts to respond to last month’s earthquake, which claimed over 2,200 lives, and to assist the more than 2.7 million Afghans who have returned from Iran and Pakistan this year.
“It completely disrupts humanitarian efforts, as you cannot track staff movements in the field and guarantee security,” explained a senior humanitarian officer, who remained anonymous due to using communication channels now forbidden by the Taliban. “You cannot access the banks to keep operations moving.”
The United Nations estimates that half of Afghanistan’s 43 million people are currently in need of humanitarian aid.
This internet blackout marks yet another addition to the Taliban’s extensive list of restrictions on personal freedoms.
Just this month, the Taliban prohibited books by women from universities. In May, they outlawed chess, claiming it encouraged gambling, which they deem a sin. They’ve also increasingly banned the depiction of faces or any living creatures, including animals, on television in several provinces. Furthermore, Afghan female aid workers are now prevented from collaborating with United Nations agencies.
Prior to this, their digital suppressions were typically localized and brief, such as the temporary shutdowns in Kabul after their takeover to quell protests. They had also previously blocked certain platforms like TikTok and restricted content creators from publishing videos on YouTube.
For Afghans already facing dire circumstances, the internet shutdown only amplified their struggles.
Take Jawad Mohammadi, a 37-year-old from Mazar-i-Sharif in northern Afghanistan, who had journeyed to Kabul with his brother, critically ill with severe kidney stones. Despite doctors recommending urgent surgery, Mr. Mohammadi faced immense difficulty securing funds from relatives.
“The hospital refuses to proceed with the operation unless we pay in advance,” he stated, adding, “I have no other options and don’t know what to do.”
However, after two agonizing days of disconnection, a wave of joy and relief swept across Afghanistan as mobile networks flickered back to life. The streets of Kabul, as night descended, filled with the sounds of ringing phones and the incessant buzz of notifications, as residents eagerly reconnected with loved ones.
Even Taliban members emerged from their offices, settling casually on the grass to catch up.
Mr. Mohammadi, whose brother remained hospitalized, was finally able to reach his family. “They will send the money tomorrow,” he shared with palpable relief.
Francesca Regalado also contributed to this report.