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Gulnaz, an Afghan rape victim who was jailed for adultery, has now been pardoned – on the condition she is marries her rapist. She is seen her in her jail cell at a women's prison in Kabul on Dec. 3, 2011.

KABUL, Afghanistan – “I am obliged to marry him, even though I can’t look at him,” 19-year-old Gulnaz said about the man she claims raped her. 

Gulnaz, who uses one name, has been in an Afghan prison cell for about two years. She says she only has one choice if she wants to bring dignity back to her family and tribe: She must marry the man who forced his way into her home, tied her up, and then raped her.

The man was Gulnaz’s cousin’s husband, and the humiliation continued a few months after the attack, when Gulnaz finally got the courage to tell Afghan police what had happened. Instead of getting justice, she was accused of adultery and sent to prison.
 
“I do not know why they put me in jail,” Gulnaz said when NBC News recently visited her at the women’s prison in Kabul.

Her daughter, Moskan, a result of the rape, lay sleeping on a bed nearby – she was born on the floor of Gulnaz’s prison cell.

According to Gulnaz, she was initially given a two-year prison sentence, so she appealed.  The court of appeals refused to accept her accusation of rape, she said, and raised her sentence to 12 years. They didn’t believe she was raped because they told her that a woman couldn’t get pregnant after her first sexual encounter, so therefore she must have had a consensual sexual relationship with her accuser, they told her.

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Gulnaz, an Afghan rape victim who was jailed for adultery, has now been pardoned – on the condition she is marries her rapist. She is seen in her jail cell at a women's prison in Kabul with her daughter on Dec. 3, 2011.

Justice, with a caveat
The ruling and statement outraged many, including American lawyer Kimberley Motley who has been practicing law in Afghanistan for three years and decided to take on Gulnaz’s case.  Just last week Motley helped Gulnaz gain a pardon from Afghan President Hamid Karzai. 

But the pardon came with a caveat.  A press release from the presidential palace stated that the president had decreed her release “taking into consideration the consent of both sides for a conditional wedlock.”

In other words, she was free to go – if she agreed to marry her rapist. (Even though her rapist is already married, in Islamic societies, like Afghanistan, polygamy is allowed, with the specific limitation that men can have up to four wives).

Not the victory many were hoping for, but a small victory for women in a society who have seen few.

“I think the biggest challenge [Afghan women] face is being women in this society,” said Motley. “I mean, there is no doubt that they are second-class citizens. They just don’t have the same opportunities as men. They don’t have a voice, or their voice isn’t as respected as men.”

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Gulnaz is seen with her daughter behind bars at a women's prison in Kabul on Dec. 3, 2011.

Motley has been appalled at how women in Afghanistan are treated, but she acknowledged that some strides have been made and hopes Gulnaz’s pardon will set a precedent for future cases.

“It definitely is putting the attorney general’s office, the supreme court and also others that are working within this justice system sort of on notice,” Motley said.

Not enough
But others are more skeptical. Heather Barr, with Human Rights Watch in Afghanistan, doesn’t believe Gulnaz’s case will change the tide on women’s rights in a country riddled with traditional cultural obstacles.

“It would be really comforting to think that Gulnaz’s case is one strange aberration where the justice system for one particular case has gone wrong,” Barr said.  “Unfortunately, this is as far from the truth as could be.”

Out of the approximately 600 adult female prisoners in Afghanistan, more than half are in a similar predicament as Gulnaz, Barr said, meaning they have been charged with a “moral crime.”
So-called moral crimes are crimes that are not codified in Afghan law, but they are covered in the constitution as a crime against culture and religion.  That includes everything from adultery to even running away from home.

Shah Marai / AFP - Getty Images

A burqa-clad Afghan woman walks in a cemetery in Kabul on Nov. 23, 2011.

“Not only are there hundreds of these cases, but these cases send a message to all Afghan women who are facing forced marriage, or abuse in the home, or sexual assault that there isn’t any help available to them and the consequences of seeking help are likely to be further victimization,” Barr said.

In the meantime, Gulnaz is counting down the days until her release – which is expected to be soon.

Massoud Hossaini / AFP - Getty Images

Afghanistan's National Army (ANA) soldiers secure the vicinity of the upcoming Loya Jirga in Kabul on Tuesday.

By Atia Abawi, NBC News Correspondent

KABUL – This week over 2,000 Afghans representing all walks of life - from far-flung villages and the country's big city - will congregate in the capital Kabul. Some will come from the far-flung provinces within Afghanistan, others from neighboring Iran and Pakistan, where millions of refugees still live after 30 years of war. 

There will even be representatives from the Afghan diaspora who have found new homes in the Unites States, Canada and Europe.

They will gather for a traditional meeting, called a loya jirga or grand assembly, a tradition that dates back hundreds of years. The jirga is a gathering of tribes to discuss and decide on important decisions and milestones in the country.  In the past it has been used to choose kings, constitutions and regimes. 

This year tribal elders and community leaders will discuss the future of the relationship between the U.S. and Afghanistan as American troops begin to withdraw.  But while the Jirga is an ancient tradition, some Afghans say the meeting has no binding authority and is being used simply to provide non-binding advice to the government of President Hamid Karzai.

“I think no major decisions will come out of this jirga,” political analyst Haroun Mir told NBC News.  “It will be up to President Karzai either to take into consideration these recommendations or go ahead with his own decision.”

Shah Marai / AFP - Getty Images

Afghan National Army (ANA) soldiers stand guard Monday near where the loya jirga meeting will be held in Kabul starting Wednesday.

The U.S. isn’t commenting on the jirga, saying only that it is an Afghan process that they have the “upmost respect” for, according to the State Department’s Deputy Spokesperson Mark Toner.

“The U.S. and Afghanistan are close partners and allies, and we have great confidence that this loya jirga is going to reaffirm that strong partnership,” Toner said.

Taliban threat
The challenges of holding this jirga are vast, with security being the biggest problem in the eyes of most Afghans, as well as the international community.

To underscore this point, The Taliban have vowed to disrupt the gathering and kill anyone taking part in it.

They also claim to have obtained the security plans for the three-day congregation.  To add validity to the group’s assertion, on Sunday Taliban spokesman Zabiullah Mujahid sent NBC News a 20-page document it claims are those plans.

Some Afghan government officials say that the document has been fabricated, while others say that although the document is authentic it is actually an outdated version.

Mir says Taliban threats should be taken more seriously.

“Certainly the risk is very high and they have the capacity to threaten the Afghan forces,” he said.  Mir underlined his point by referring to recent insurgent attacks in the Afghan capital, including the September assassination of the head of the High Peace Council for Reconciliation, Burhanuddin Rabbani.

 “These attacks happened through those who provide protection for Taliban inside Kabul and facilitated their transportation in the city,” Mir said.

While top officials are at risk from attacks, regular Afghans have borne the brunt of worsening violence in Afghanistan – with around 1,462 civilians killed between January and June, the first six  month of 2011 have been the deadliest six months for civilians since the war began in 2001, according to BBC News.

Peaceful settlement?
Despite continued threats from the Taliban, it is expected one of the topics of discussion will be on how to forge a peaceful settlement with them. 

Security aside, there is still confusion among many Afghans and foreigners as to why this jirga has been called now, what will be discussed and will the decisions made hold any weight.

Some parliamentarians have even called on Afghans to boycott the jirga, saying that it is an illegal process and that decisions made on Afghanistan should be done in the democratic fashion through the government.

"The real representatives of the people are in parliament. We have been elected,” Nasrullah Sadiqizada Nili, a lawmaker from Day Kundi province, told the Associated Press. Although parliamentarians are included in the event, Nili said he and many others would not attend in protest.

"This loya jirga has no legitimacy," Nili said.

Still thousands will gather starting Wednesday and the meeting is expected to last three to four days.

Fazl-e-Ahad contributed to this report. 

Bay Ismoyo / AFP - Getty Images

U.S. Marines walk through opium poppy fields during a meet and greet joint patrol with Afghanistan National Police in Habibullah village in Khanashin District, Helman province, on April 24, 2011. According to a U.N. study released this week, poppy cultivation in Afghanistan has risen 7 percent in 2011 despite eradication efforts.

By Sohel Uddin, NBC News Producer

KABUL – Afghan farmer Ismael Iyas Khail had gotten out of the poppy planting business six years ago, but desperation has brought him back in. The current market value of opium poppies is approximately $1,500 per kilogram, four times the amount he used to sell it for.

As a poor 27-year-old farmer with no other economic opportunities, he needs the money to survive.

“I just planted poppy seeds last month and hopefully they will be ready for picking in a few months,” said Khail over the phone Thursday from Afghanistan’s Nangahar province.

Six years ago, Khail was approached by a non-governmental organization and asked if he wanted to take part in a program to move farmers away from growing the poppies that fuel the heroin drug trade and cultivate alternate high-value crops such as pomegranates, saffron or wheat.

Khail chose saffron and was promised cheap seeds, a tractor, electricity and additional funding.

But out of all those incentives, he says he only received the cheap seeds, sparingly distributed by the police who were supposed to help implement the program. Khail claims the police sold most of the seeds to third parties for profit.

He says that growing saffron has left him struggling to survive. 
 
“We have borrowed so much money from people over the years and now they want it all back,” he said.
 
Apart from the stress created by the moneylenders, there is the pressure of feeding five children, as well as helping his extended family, which consists of his four brothers and their families.  
 
Not alone
The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) underscored the predicament of farmers like Khail in a report published this week titled “2011 Afghan Opium Survey.”

UNODC said Afghanistan saw a 7 percent rise in poppy cultivation from last year, despite a number of programs to eradicate such farming. The study attributed the increase to a sharp rise in opium prices, combined with persistent poverty.

The boost in the value of opium means that the 7 percent increase in poppy cultivation will likely double the value of opium production in Afghanistan to $1.4 billion – making up 9 percent of the country’s GDP, the UNODC estimated.
 
Afghans living in the cities have been the main beneficiaries of the progress brought by 10 years of war and international involvement in Afghanistan.

But with the exception of a few schools and clinics, most villages and towns in the provinces have not seen much change since the Taliban or even earlier. According to Global Humanitarian Assistance, which tracks humanitarian financing, $286 billion has been invested in Afghanistan since 2001, but the majority of Afghans are still living on less than $1 a day. 
 
The various poppy eradication initiatives succeeded in converting 20 of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces into poppy-free zones, but the results of UNODC’s survey found that three of these provinces have since lost this status, reducing the number to 17.  Farmers like Khail are returning to poppy planting because they find alternative crops are not living up to their economic promise amid persistent corruption and the lure of higher prices for opium.

“We have tried to be good and understand that opium is bad, but I don’t have a choice now. We have to survive,” he said.

He is aware that Afghanistan is hugely responsible for the world’s supply of opium that ends up being sold on the street as heroin, but he is probably unaware that it is as high as 90 percent.

Afghan media tycoon Saad Mohseni, one of TIME magazine's 100 most influential people in the world, talks about Afghanistan's progress over the last decade, why he chose to start a media empire in the country and why the world should not give up on Afghanistan.

Erik De Castro / Reuters

A U.S. soldier from 127th Military Police, Task Force "Cacti" and a linguist walk along a road during a patrol in Khas Konar district in Kunar province, eastern Afghanistan on Oct. 6, 2011.

By Jim Maceda, NBC News Correspondent
 
We’ve paid so dearly for the war in Afghanistan, with more than 1,600 U.S. troops killed and thousands more wounded, that it’s hard to believe that the country is still on the brink. But, it’s worth remembering that 10 years ago, Taliban henchmen were executing “adulterers” and other “violators of Sharia law” by stoning or with a burst of AK-47 fire to the back in the packed stadiums of Kabul and Kandahar.

Sick women were denied care in Taliban-controlled hospitals and clinics; girls were kept hidden from view, forbidden an education, quietly taking their places behind the family chattel when walking in the streets. And, of course, Osama bin Laden and his al-Qaida commanders had free reign back then – to plot their deadly attacks from their comfortable homes in Jalalabad, or train their new recruits in their camps along the border with Pakistan.
 
We know what happened. Ten years ago this week the U.S. launched an air and ground war against al-Qaida and the Taliban government that hosted and protected it.

 As forward observers often disguised as journalists or aid workers, agents of the CIA and U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency trained up and worked with the anti-Taliban Northern Alliance, while directing U.S. bombings of Taliban targets. Within weeks, both al-Qaida and the Taliban fled to Pakistan.

Within months the U.S. focus had shifted to Iraq. And within three years, the Taliban had regrouped, reloaded and retaken its strongholds in the south and east of the country.

In a symbiotic merging of forces, al-Qaida, from Pakistan’s lawless tribal areas, provided the Taliban with money, logistics, and jihad credibility; the Taliban, meanwhile, gave al-Qaida plenty of young foot soldiers, and a battlefield for its foreign fighters.

Today the Taliban has been largely driven from and defeated in those former strongholds by U.S. military “surges” in 2009 (Helmand) and 2010 (Kandahar) – critical Taliban staging areas cleared and still held by mostly U.S. and British troops.

Ghost towns have sprung back to life. Schools and clinics have reopened. Roads are full of Afghan farmers moving their produce market. But in provinces and districts beyond those security bubbles, especially in the north and west of the country, the Taliban is present, and probing. Afghan government and security officials are killed or kidnapped almost daily. In the capital of Kabul, the Taliban seems to be able to strike at will.

Kamran Jebreili / AP

Afghan boys play with a ball on top of the remains of a Russian armored vehicle in Kabul on Oct. 6, 2011.

We’ll be here for a ‘long time’
We can’t know what happens next. Is Afghanistan headed, again, toward chaos? Or will it maintain some kind of representative government and contain the insurgents?

That really depends on what U.S. forces do after 2014. And let’s be clear, as top U.S. commander in Afghanistan Lt. Gen. James Allen said just this week, despite all the political and economic pressures to the contrary, U.S. troops will be in Afghanistan for “a long time.”

U.S. war planners in Kabul tell me they’ll pull out part of the surge forces – some 10,000 troops, or two brigade combat teams – by the end of December. And the remaining 23,000 surge troops will return home by September 2012 – just two months before the next U.S. presidential election.

But both countries are already negotiating the details of a Status of Forces Agreement – or SOFA – to take effect after 2014. U.S. military sources in Afghanistan say that the SOFA will be similar to the one signed by the U.S. and Iraq in 2008, meaning tens of thousands of U.S. troops will remain in country, but in a low profile, non-combat role, mostly for training and logistics and to deter the Taliban from attempting to overthrow the Afghan government.

It’s unclear how long Allen’s “long time” commitment is, but it’s certainly years, not months. During which time U.S. drone strikes inside Pakistan’s tribal belt would likely reach record numbers and the Afghan National Security Forces would benefit from U.S. know-how in long-term warfare and maintaining an air force and surveillance assets. Ideally, the U.S. would bottle up al-Qaida from the air while Afghan forces would contain the Taliban on the ground. At least, that’s the plan.

But that’s also a best-case scenario, and so much could go wrong.

Mohammad Ismail / Reuters

A school girl uses a mobile phone to take pictures of artifacts on display at Kabul National Museum September 25, 2011. Click on the photo to see a complete slideshow of Afghanistan: Nation at a Crossroads.

Worst case scenario
I’ve watched Afghan forces progress exponentially since 2002, when conscripts for the “new” Afghan National Army were given muskets and taught their right foot from their left. But fighting for their own destiny – will they wilt and run?

The words of a U.S. Army officer in charge of training Afghan soldiers in Kandahar – only two miles from the hometown of Taliban leader Mullah Omar – still give me pause. “I’d rather train the Taliban,” he told me one July night last year. “Seriously, compared to these guys, the Taliban make better fighters; they’re more disciplined and much more honest.” 

Another worry – the ethnic Pashtuns, including most Taliban fighters, have shown no interest in joining the Afghan Army. What if they succeed in their ancient dream of creating a borderless “Pashtunstan,” disregarding the Durand Line separating Afghanistan from Pakistan and incorporating their “Pakhtun” brothers to the east?

What would the U.S. do if its “non-combat” troops suddenly found themselves in the crosshairs of another Afghan civil war? Would it cut and run, like the Russians in 1989? Possibly. Would it have the stomach to call back in the cavalry, and try to reimpose military order? Not likely. Could it make an impact with drone strikes and bombings of Afghan cities, along the new front lines? Even less likely.

No, in this worse-case scenario, after all the U.S. has paid in blood and treasure, it might well find itself, by 2015, looking on helplessly as the Afghanistan that was to be its bulwark of democracy in South Asia turns the clock back a generation – to a time of brutal warlords, tribal feuds, drug wars and massive numbers of refugees.

An ideal time for international jihadists, al-Qaida leaders and affiliates of all stripes, and even Mullah Omar himself, to return to Afghanistan and reclaim the terror camps and homes they’d abandoned years before.

As is so often the case in Afghanistan, whether it’s success, stalemate or surrender – the endgame is anyone’s guess.

Jim Maceda is an NBC News correspondent based in London who has covered the wars in Afghanistan since the 1980’s.

Related links:
Young Afghans reflect on changes 10 years after U.S. invasion
PhotoBlog: 10 years in Afghanistan: With US troops on a mountaintop outpost
World Blog: Kabul rocks...with music
Afghan warlords need help with cable, too
Strategies have shifted, but soldier committed to Afghanistan
World Blog on Afghanistan

By Adrienne Mong, NBC News Correspondent

KABUL — For once, it’s not a deadly explosion that’s rocking the Afghan capital.

Just a deafening one.

Electric guitars.  Drums.  Bass guitars.

And a whole lot of moshing. 

“I want to welcome you to Hoodie’s, the first underground nightclub!”

A handful of people were gathered in a freshly-painted, non-ventilated basement to listen to Tears of the Sun, a five-member band from Uzbekistan, jam as part of a month-long rock festival in Kabul, the first one to take place in Afghanistan in 35 years.

“We have a situation now that Afghanistan is very much on the tilt, and it can go either…way,” said Travis Beard, founder and director of The Sound Central Asian Modern Music Festival. 

Adrienne Mong

White Page jams at Hoodie's. It was only their third live performance together as a band.

Holding the Sound Central festival might seem incongruous in what many regard as a war zone in a very conservative society.  When it controlled the country from 1992 to 2001, the Taliban banned recorded music.  In some parts of the country, musicians are still harassed and rock music is regarded suspiciously.

And while Kabul is perhaps more liberal, it also now feels increasingly unstable after a month of high-profile incidents, including an attack on the U.S. embassy and the assassination of chief Afghan peace negotiator Burhanuddin Rabbani.

Security considerations forced Beard and other organizers to hold the festival’s opening night last month in New York, where the closing ceremony is also scheduled, on Oct. 21.  The rest of the festival is centred on events in the Afghan capital—workshops, jam sessions, and last weekend’s all-day concert.

"One hallmark I think of stable and secure country is one where you can have a music festival," said Brian Neely, a cultural affairs assistant in the U.S. embassy in Kabul, one of the key event sponsors.  "It shows stability, but it's also life.  I mean, sometimes life is rock 'n roll."

Especially for the youth in Afghanistan.  Fifty percent of the nation’s 30 million people are under the age of 18, according to UNICEF data from 2009.  And most of them have never seen music like this performed live, only on the Internet or satellite television.

“If we don’t give [the Afghan youth] something, a way to voice their opinions and their ideas then they’re going to feel like they’re being silenced. And music is a great way to do that,” said Beard, a photographer from Australia who first came to Kabul to work four years ago.   He dreamt up the idea back then and has spent the past two years planning intensively.

Adrienne Mong

Young Afghan headbangers--all men--go wild over local band District Unknown.

Jam sessions all week
Contrary to expectations, some of the biggest challenges weren't even about the violence. 

"They're thinking that we're over here dodging bullets and crawling through the mud...but really a lot of the barriers have been...the Internet going down, traffic, getting the ministries to process something," said Daniel Gerstle, a Brooklyn-based musician who is also the event producer.

Then there were cultural considerations, such as maintaining an alcohol-free zone and timing some events early enough in the day so that women could attend without family censure over being out too late after dark.

Late Tuesday night saw Hoodie’s kick off a week of jam sessions, starting with Tears of the Sun, one of a dozen bands from the U.S., Australia, Pakistan, Iran, Central Asia, and of course Afghanistan.

At first, the show brought in more photographers than audience members.  But before long, the room grew stuffier and smokier with more people trickling in.

“It’s the best night of my life,” one young man shouted.  He and his friends — Afghan men in t-shirts and skinny jeans and the odd hoodie -- slam-danced to set after set.  They jumped, swayed, pointed their fingers into the air, flicked on their lighters.

No Afghan women were to be seen.

Just over an hour later, someone — perhaps a disgruntled neighbor more used to the low thump-thump of Blackhawk helicopters and cannon fire than electric guitar and drums — shut down the power.

But it was no matter.  Someone had rustled up an acoustic guitar.

The following night’s jam session kicked-off two hours earlier than the previous night, “due to noise issues,” said festival organizers.

The evening also saw some of Kabul’s own take to the stage, like White Page.  The group was started just six months ago by four students from the prestigious Afghanistan National Institute of Music.  Though steeped in the teachings of classical music, all four band members wanted to play rock music -- in particular, heavy metal, just like their idols Metallica.

They also have loftier aspirations.  “We wanted to show [people] how improved Afghanistan [was] during these 10 years,” said Hojad Hamid, the band’s lanky 20-year old solo guitarist, referring to the decade-long war.

With only three original songs in their repertoire (two written in English and one in Dari), White Page filled the hour with covers from Green Day, Linkin Park, and System of a Down—bands that have all inspired them, said the group’s lead singer Raby Adib, a 19-year old Kabul native.

Adrienne Mong

Morcha started up in 2005 and describes itself as a "blues rock" band.

Their performance also inspired the audience -- again largely composed of young Afghan men.

“All that music I’ve heard on the radio or watched on TV, now I hear it here, live, in person,” said 20-year old Asil Ahmad.

His friend, who would only give one name, Ahmad, is more widely traveled. Nevertheless, “it’s my first time in Afghanistan to see such an event,” he said.  “[We’re] so proud and [feel] honor!”

Developing an Afghan sound
Three other native bands have been featured in the festival: Kabul Dreams (indie rock), Morcha (blues/rock), and crowd favorite District Unknown.

Considered the first heavy metal band to launch in Afghanistan, District Unknown specializes in doom death metal and realism.  One of their songs is about a NATO air strike that goes awry and hits a wedding—“a message to be aware of the errors of war,” said Gerstle.

It's a message that also resonates with Afghans.  By the time District Unknown's jam session rolled around on Friday, Hoodie’s was crowded with people and anticipation.  At one point, a dozen men began chanting, “D.U.!  D.U.!  D.U.!”

Not everyone, however, were familiar with District Unknown.

A handful of Afghan women stood in the corner, giggling and moving restlessly.  One of them, Farida Akbar, said she didn’t even know the name of the band.  The 25-year-old charity worker — who favors rap and hip hop over rock — had come along at the suggestion of her colleague.

“It’s good for us to come out and to see this kind of stuff and to know about these things,” she explained.  “It’s just different, not bad.  Just a lot of young people getting together.  It’s fun.”

Nonetheless, she added, “One thing I would have liked to have seen is more women.  I see many men here.”

Moments later, well into the first set, Akbar and her girlfriends had inched their way towards the edge of the stage, jumping with delight at the band’s performance.

The main event
Many more Afghan women could be seen at the headline event, an all-day concert on Saturday.

Set in an enclosure inside the Babur Gardens -- a park built by the first Mughal emperor in the 16th century -- the event started 90 minutes late as organizers waited for an audience to turn up.

That morning, they had sent out 30,000 cell phone text messages, but by mid-afternoon barely 300 people had come through the security gate manned by Afghan police.

Musicians milled together.  A man in a shiny gray suit prowled around with his compact camera.

As with music festivals across the world, advertisers had set up booths along the edge: Roshan (a cell phone operator), Paywast (a mobile social networking service), and Jubaili Bros. (a power generator manufacturer).

Two schoolboys with their backpacks sat in the corner, staring more often at the audience than the musicians.

Adrienne Mong

Morcha is a band from Herat in western Afghanistan.

Once again, the Uzbek band Tears of the Sun proved popular.  Perhaps in part because the lead singer, Sabina Ablyaskina, was one of the few women on stage.  While she dressed conservatively with a veil and layers of long garments, she radiated a verve and energy seldom displayed by Afghan women in public.

“The audience is cool,” said Ablyaskina.

“The best of the best,” agreed her fellow band member and guitarist Nikita Makarenko.  “Maybe not a very big crowd of people, but it’s a good start.”

Stability and security
By late afternoon, the crowd had grown to 500, with noticeable clusters of young women dressed in veils and long tunics over their skinny jeans.

“We saw a lot of girls in concert,” said Lodina, a 23-year-old woman from Kabul who came with another young woman.  “We enjoy it.”

 “Joining these concerts…is part of bringing change to the country,” said Nargis, a young woman who volunteers for a women’s rights group.  “When we come, some other people see girls are coming to the concerts and nothing is happening and it’s fine.  Maybe they are also motivated to bring their own sisters and their mothers to the concert.”

Another change was another step forward for Afghanistan, showcasing its modern musicians.

"I think Afghanistan can be a part of rock [music] in the world,” said Hamid of White Page.  He envisions a bright future, in which his band will “have a good contact with all the bands around the world and have a good concert [and] have at tour.  I hope to see that day before I die.”

Veteran journalist Fakhar Rehman reports from Pakistan's tribal areas. He believes many people in his homeland saw the U.S. reaction to 9/11 as an attack on Islam.

By Fakhar Rehman, NBC News

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan — When I turned on my television at home on September 11, 2001, I was stunned to see passenger planes hitting symbols of America's financial and military strength.

My journalistic instincts kicked in and I contacted Sohail Shaheen, the Taliban Embassy spokesman in Islamabad. "Are you watching TV?" I asked him. His reply was, "No." I explained the breaking news that was unfolding on-air. He denied the Taliban were involved. I told him to get ready — the whole world would soon be focusing on Afghanistan. At the time, I did not realize that the focus would eventually turn to my own country of Pakistan.

Thousands pay respects to 9/11 victims

Covering the "War on Terror" as a Pakistani journalist over the last decade, I've found myself in many unexpected situations. One week after the U.S. invaded Afghanistan, I received a call from the Taliban to pick up my visa from their Embassy in Islamabad. Once there, I was told they were taking me to Jalalabad — immediately. I called my family, got on the bus with the Taliban and spent the next three days wearing the same clothes while interviewing Taliban members and reporting from Afghanistan. Thank God, I returned home safely.

As a Muslim, the 9/11 attacks pushed me to probe my own religion and try to offer assessments in the debate on Islam and extremism. I've always believed that no religion supports killing. Extremism has nothing to do with any religion; it's a reaction, an outburst of feelings for a person who passes through certain difficulties and sees no other way. But, like many Pakistanis and others around the world, I did consider the U.S. action after 9/11 to be too big. President George W. Bush's decision to call it a "crusade" led to a great divide in the Muslim world. The evil men who perpetrated the 9/11 attacks could then be called "warriors" in this "crusade," and not "criminals," as they should have been. People here saw the U.S. reaction as an attack on Islam.

Islamists protest in Pakistan on 9/11 anniversary

Over the last 10 years, I've watched Pakistan became a divided nation. Everyone now has to define himself by where he falls on the line of extremist, liberal, or moderate. The country now looks like a war zone, with checkpoints and security barriers in all the main cities. Suicide attacks were an unknown phenomenon here — the first in years was the assassination attempt on President Pervez Musharraf in December 2003. Now they happen all the time.

Thousands of people have been killed here, children have been orphaned and entire families have been uprooted — insecurity has become the dominant feeling in the last 10 years. No-go zones, checkpoints, anti-terror courts — these are all everyday things in Pakistanis' lives. They never were before 9/11.

'This will be a long war'
There has been a loss of personal freedom. Never ever before were journalists regarded with suspicion but now I am regularly searched. My right to move and report freely has been curtailed but I see this profession as a way to continue fighting for those rights for all.

The U.S. was right to punish the 9/11 perpetrators but it laid the wrong foundation for its "crusade." As a result, Pakistani society has become more segmented, pushing Islamist and liberal political parties further apart. The Pakistan Army has to fight terrorists while trying to convince the masses it's not fighting a war against Islamists.

'American response was more deadly than 9/11' 

Ten years ago I met a Taliban fighter on that trip to Jalalabad and I asked him how they would face a war against America. "Our fighters have already moved into the mountains," he said. "This will be a long war and we are ready."

The fight is still on. But despite the changes I've seen in my own country, I still believe Pakistan will emerge a strong and stable nation.