Afghanistan

The Taliban prohibit mobile phones to government officials

An Afghan man uses a mobile phone after the gradual restoration of internet and telecommunications services in Kabul, cut off for almost three days by order of the Taliban authorities.
10/07/2026
3 min

KabulIf someone had told me a few years ago that in the middle of the 21st century mobile phones would be banned in Afghanistan, I wouldn't have believed it at all. But it's true: mobiles are now the Taliban's new target. The first time I heard about it was when one of my colleagues told me that the supreme leader of the Taliban had ordered government workers not to use mobile phones. At first, I thought he was joking, because the Taliban ministers and high-ranking officials themselves use mobiles. How was it possible that they would then ban them for thousands of government employees?

To my disbelief, my colleague showed me a video in which the Taliban were seen confiscating mobiles from government workers and destroying them one by one in front of their owners. The sound of broken screens mixed with the laughter of those enforcing the order. It was completely real. Then I looked at my own phone and thought: after women, are mobiles now the Taliban's new enemy? What problem is this restriction supposed to solve? Does this solve Afghanistan's problems?

It soon became clear to me that it was not just a rumor or an isolated incident. The order has been implemented in all government institutions. For example, the ministries of Interior, Defense, Public Health, Education, and Higher Education have confiscated and destroyed the smartphones of all their workers or warned them not to bring them to work. The Taliban have justified that the ban aims to prevent "corruption and immorality". But for me, as a journalist, this restriction means much more.

As a female reporter, I am prohibited from entering many government offices, and I can no longer sit in front of officials as I used to. Much of my reporting depends on communicating with my sources through WhatsApp, Signal, and other digital platforms. My phone is one of the few tools that allow me to continue reporting.

Hours without a response

I felt the real impact of this restriction while preparing an article about the Taliban's attacks on Balochistan, in Pakistan. Some media outlets reported that the Taliban had entered Pakistani territory and shot down members of the Islamic State. To publish the news, however, I had to verify the information through one of my trusted sources, an Afghan government official. I sent him a message. He usually replies quickly, but that day hours passed without a response.

At first I thought he would simply be busy. Later, however, another fear came to me: what if he had been arrested for being in contact with journalists? After hours of uncertainty, I called him on a landline. He answered curtly and only said: "I will call you when I get home." I waited for five more hours until he finally called me and his first words were: "My phone has been destroyed." He explained that the Taliban had confiscated and destroyed the mobile phones of all government officials, and that he had bought a new one, but not a smartphone but one that only makes calls. He also warned me that he might have to stop collaborating with journalists to avoid taking more risks, and he even expressed concern that the Taliban might be listening to our phone conversation.

Your words brought back a painful memory. Weeks ago the Taliban stormed the headquarters of the media outlet where I work, they confiscated all the workers' mobile phones, including mine, and connected them to a laptop to extract all the stored information. Since then, I don't fully trust my own phone. I regularly delete messages, files, and information. I avoid storing anything important because I fear my phone might fall into the hands of those who want to know everything about my work and my contacts again.

Many journalists have long stopped making normal phone calls to Afghanistan for security reasons. We use encrypted messaging applications, believing they offer us some protection. Now, even these limited communication channels are becoming increasingly difficult to use.

Before, it was common in the street for there to be Taliban checks that searched people's phones: they checked photos, messages, and social media accounts. Sometimes they interrogated or detained someone simply for finding something on their device that they didn't like. Internet connection has also been blocked on several occasions in the country, limiting people's ability to share information and communicate freely.

And what if the ban becomes general?

What will happen if the ban on using mobile phones is not just for government officials but for the entire population? Will mobile phones be banned for everyone one day? I can't stop thinking about it. It worries me.

Over the last five years, I have learned that the Taliban ban everything they cannot completely control. First it was girls' education. Then women's work. Then books, music, and public life. Now mobile phones, because they are still our little window to the outside that allows us to communicate, spread information, and ensure the world continues to know a little about what is happening inside Afghanistan.

stats