Favored, but without much benefits

T

hey are in India’s National Capital Territory, Delhi, but swathes of the neighborhoods Lajpat Nagar, Bhogal, and Jangpura feel like another country – Afghanistan, to be more exact, which is why the area is called “Mini Kabul.” 

Lined with Afghan restaurants, bakeries, and grocery stores selling traditional Afghan food like kebab, naan, and dried fruits such as apricots, prunes, kishmish raisins, mulberries, and cherries, these neighborhoods have been home to Afghan refugees for years, and taken by some as proof that the people from Afghanistan have always been welcome in India.

That assertion is true to a certain extent. Several studies and news articles also point to Afghans as “favored refugees” in India, since compared to other groups such as the Rohingya, they are usually not subjected to frequent checks by authorities and also have less chances of being deported. 

And while Afghans seeking refuge in India have been assumed to be mainly Hindus and Sikhs, even Muslim Afghans say that they have not been affected by the Hindutva movement, which has turned many Indians against non-Hindus, especially Muslims. 

In a 2024 report on Afghan women refugees in India, researchers for the Women’s Regional Network (WRN) quoted their Afghan interviewees as saying, “The communal issue is only between Indian Hindus and Muslims. Afghans are not involved. Refugee and police relations are much better here.” 

Yet life in India hasn’t been easy for many Afghan refugees, largely because they face difficulties in obtaining legal status and proper papers. This in turn can be traced to India’s lack of policies on refugees, even though it is currently hosting more than 270,000 from various countries. It is also not a signatory to the 1951 U.N. Refugee Convention or its 1967 Protocol.

“Without proper documentation, they are often unable to access critical services such as education, healthcare, and formal employment opportunities,” said legal experts Mehvish Mehraj and Dr. Anna Bashir of the University of Kashmir in a 2024 paper, referring to Afghan refugees specifically. “This lack of legal recognition not only limits their access to basic rights but also exposes them to exploitation and abuse, as they may be unable to assert their legal protections.”

Such difficulties are felt more by the female refugees, who Mehraj and Bashir said have to navigate a “complex network of obstacles” created by an “intersectionality of economic hardship, cultural norms, and gender discrimination.” 

This confluence of factors also “exacerbates the risk of GBV (gender-based violence)” that the academics said manifested in various ways, including “domestic abuse, sexual harassment, and exploitation.” 

“Additionally,” wrote Mehraj and Bashir, “the lack of legal recognition of Afghan refugee women’s status and limited access to justice systems further compound their vulnerability to GBV, as perpetrators often act with impunity.”

Many Afghan women refugees also soon realize that repressive gender norms that had bedeviled them in the homeland are present as well within the Afghan communities in India. 

Observed the WRN researchers in their 2024 report: “The close-knit Afghan community provides a vital lifeline for those in economic distress but it also functions as an oppressive social watch, especially on women-headed households and single women. Several such families preferred to live outside Afghan residential clusters.” 

That is easier said than done, however. Finding housing is already a challenge for most refugees, but is more so for those among them who are single, Muslim, and female, as landlords are often reluctant to rent to single women or Muslim refugees. 

Employers can be as discriminatory. One Afghan refugee who gave her name only as Khatera recounted her experience to Asia Democracy Chronicles (ADC): “I had to flee Afghanistan with my two-year-old daughter after a bitter divorce back home. I had a tough time in Delhi as I struggled with the language and people. I faced discrimination as nobody wanted to give work to a single mother. I was scared back then.”

In difficult transit 

India has sheltered tens of thousands of Afghan refugees at a time since 1980, mainly in Delhi, although there are Afghan communities in the states of Hyderabad, Kolkata, Bangalore, and Visakhapatnam. 

Afghan migration to India surged between 2001 and 2021 due to relaxed visa policies and frequent Kabul-Delhi flights. After the Taliban’s return to power in Afghanistan in August 2021, however, New Delhi barred Afghan passport holders from returning to India. Many Afghan students and patients were left stranded in their homeland as a result, while those already in India decided to stay put. 

As of 2025,  9,436 Afghan refugees have registered with the U.N. Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in India, of whom more than 40% are women and girls. In total, however, UNHCR data show that at present, there are 11,680 Afghan refugees and asylum seekers in India.

Most Afghan refugees consider India as a transit point and not as their final destination. But getting resettled elsewhere means a very long wait in their current host country. 

Unfortunately, that also means struggling to find legal employment even for skilled and educated Afghans because of India’s refugee policy gaps. About 43% of Afghan refugees hold a bachelor’s or master’s degree, while 33% have completed secondary education. Yet because Indian laws bar refugees, including those with UNHCR cards, from formal work, even those who were business owners, traders, and professionals in Afghanistan are now limited to low-paying, informal jobs in India, and work in small shops or as manual laborers. 

Ironically, they are among the lucky ones; citing the UNHCR, one 2023 paper said that only 20 percent of Afghan refugees in India are employed. 

The experience of Kaynaat echoes that of many other Afghan refugees. Eight years ago, she fled Afghanistan with her parents and three brothers. Her family registered with the UNHCR upon arriving in India. 

Initially, they relied on their savings to cover rent and food expenses, but their situation became challenging as her father’s job was irregular and poorly paid. Kaynaat, who gave only her first name, decided to step up. 

“I learnt crochet work from my mother, and I also learnt crochet weaving of wire to produce jewellery at TARA Projects,” she told ADC. “They gave us training to learn and also provided us some work, which helped us, but sadly there is no regular work.”

TARA (Trade Alternative Reform Action) Projects, established in the 1970s, supports underprivileged artisans, including Afghan women, by promoting fair-trade handicrafts and vocational training. 

Kaynaat said that despite getting irregular income from what she does with TARA, “working alongside other women has helped me have a purpose in life, as we are encouraged by other artisans and staff working in the organization.”

For many Afghan female refugees, work outside the home is often a new experience as women are prohibited from doing so in Afghanistan. But aside from the need to help put food on the table, many Afghan women refugees who arrive in India with their families also want to become financially independent and secure.

In their paper, Mehraj and Bashir indicated that employment could help Afghan women avoid or limit GBV as “(economic) dependence on male family members and limited opportunities for employment outside the home further perpetuate power imbalances and increase the likelihood of GBV.” 

At the same time, however, a working woman with an unemployed spouse may end up suffering GBV; among the cases cited by the WRN researchers in their report is that of a refugee named Safiya who unlike many Afghan women married for love, but whose husband later turned violent because, it seems, she had a job and he did not. 

Looking to belong

In theory, Indian law allows those with refugee cards to apply for a Long-Term Visa (LTV), which would give them more access to basic services, including education; they can also work in certain sectors, but are still barred from government and most formal jobs. 

So far, though, Afghan refugees who have been granted LTVs have been mostly the Hindus and Sikhs. Non-Muslim Afghans have also benefited from The Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), passed under the current Indian government, which fast-tracks citizenship for Hindus, Sikhs, Jains, Parsis, Buddhists, and Christians who fled religious persecution from Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Bangladesh and arrived in India on or before Dec. 31, 2014. 

But Afghan refugees who fail these criteria can still try for citizenship through naturalization, which has an 11-year residency in India as among the requirements. Surprisingly, both Kaynaat and Khatera are thinking seriously of taking this route, despite all the difficulties they have encountered as refugees in India. 

Or perhaps, it may be precisely because of all the difficulties that they have been through in their host country that they now want to be officially part of it. 

Khatera said that one of her first jobs in India was as a househelp. Today she is part of ILHAM, a women-led catering business. Cooking had always been an integral part of her life since her days in Afghanistan. With expertise in preparing a wide range of dishes, she was eager to join the group.  More importantly, working with other women in similar situations became, for Khatera, a path to healing from the trauma she experienced in Afghanistan.

The ILHAM team received Entrepreneurship Development Program (EDP) training from UNHCR’s Livelihood Partner, learning key business skills like pricing, costing, and customer management. 

Started in 2015, ILHAM is now fully run by Afghan refugee women whose efforts have made the operation self-sustaining. Their food, made with passion, has been highly praised at schools, colleges, organizations, embassies, and exhibitions both in and outside Delhi, boosting their confidence.

“By the time I joined in January 2016, several Afghan refugee single mothers were already part of the initiative,” said Khatera. “I had the opportunity to work with dignity in a city like Delhi, giving me both identity and recognition.” ◉

Kavitha Yarlaggada is a freelance journalist based in Hyderabad, India. She writes about the environment, science, health, social justice, gender and culture. Her works have appeared in the South China Morning Post, The Guardian, Christian Science Monitor, BBC, Deccan Herald, and The Hindu, among others.