When the Taliban seized power of Afghanistan in August 2021, Sharia Law was immediately imposed, at which point two decades of progress was rendered null and void, and educated women once more faced both dreadful persecution and the wholesale removal of human rights.
In her feature documentary, world-premiering June 1 at Doxumentale (Berlin) and sold by Go2Films, Roni Aboulafia chronicles the attempted extraction of 167 Afghans from the country into neighbouring Tajikistan. These include Hanna, the first female judge in her province; Gul, a female police officer; Shakiba, a famous young singer and the last woman to appear on Afghan Star (a programme modelled on American Idol), and Fatima, a champion cyclist who fears a forced marriage.
Co-ordinating the escape from Tajikistan is Danna Harman, an Israeli-American journalist, and Yotam Polizer, CEO of IsraAID, an international non-governmental humanitarian aid organization based in Israel.
The documentary is delivered at break-neck pace, and packed with twists, shocks, surprises, and reversals, all the time accompanied by a soundtrack which cranks up the tension to near breaking point as hopes for escape are continually thwarted by ever-vigilant Taliban soldiers guarding all exit points from the country.
Director Aboulafia underlines how, even while shooting the film, her primary concern was the safe passage of folk from Afghanistan. Given that the rescue mission was both chaotic and dangerous, surely adding the task of chronicling the process must have sent stress levels sky-high?
“It was indeed a real challenge. My priority was always the mission, but there were many long hours and days of waiting, which gave me opportunities to document what was happening around us,” she tells BDE. “The biggest challenge was telling the story of the evacuation through the eyes of my courageous protagonists. They were often in hiding or on buses trying to reach the border, making it extremely stressful and risky for them to film anything even on their phones. Shakiba Teimori, a young singer, TV presenter, and blogger who had to escape the Taliban and joined our evacuation, captured moments with remarkable talent and bravery, and others also recorded parts of the journey.”
“In fact, Danna and I often debated this—she worried it might put them in unnecessary danger. We had to navigate many uncertainties and hope we made the right choices,” Aboulafia adds. “Looking back, everyone agrees that having a way to tell this story is so important to raise awareness of the horrific situation women face in Afghanistan. This limitation shaped the film’s fragmented cinematic style, which I believe complements both the story and its form beautifully.”
Day Trip is about extreme resilience in the face of oppression, criminality, injustice and intolerance, and succeeding against the odds. It is all about having to make heart-rending choices.
“The resilience of Hanna, Gul, Shakiba, and Fatima stands out most,” Aboulafia concurs. “These women were trailblazers even before the Taliban takeover. Afghanistan, even under a pro-Western government, was very conservative. Equality and opportunities for women were top-down government initiatives, but these women seized those opportunities with intelligence, strength, and a deep commitment to improving their society.”
“Their stories of violence, injustice, and discrimination are heartbreaking,” the director continues. “Gul, for example, was the first girl in her village to continue education beyond sixth grade but had to leave her home to study because of community pushback.”
“Tragically, they witnessed their life’s work destroyed. As the Taliban approached Kabul with the US withdrawal looming, it became painfully clear they would be targets as public figures. Those left behind would face confinement, with no access to education or work—the very essentials of life,” Aboulafia adds. “One of the women, a respected activist managing shelters for women nationwide, faced an impossible choice: stay to protect others or save herself and her 10-year-old daughter. I understood completely that she did what she had to do.”
At one point in the film, and exasperated Aboulafia says how ‘this is so out of my league.’ Nevertheless she, Danna and Yotam prove that the impossible may be indeed possible. How does she reflect on that period now, and how does she believe it changed both her and her co-workers?
“It was an intensely life-changing experience for all of us. It’s hard to grasp fully in the moment, but one simple act of sisterhood grew into something enormous and unimaginable,” Aboulafia responds. “It was beyond what I thought I could handle, especially deciding who would be on the evacuation list. Space was limited, and we operated as a makeshift group without clear criteria, making those decisions agonizing.”
“Danna’s life transformed completely. She left journalism to stay with the group in Albania, helping them resettle in Canada (which only became confirmed months later), and caring for hundreds of brave, talented refugees with an uncertain future and loved ones left behind,” she adds. “In a way, she never returned to her old life—her marriage ended, and she continued working with refugees.”
“Yotam expanded the reach of his organization, surprising even himself by how far it could go. For all of us, the bonds formed with those we helped—across cultures and religions—became a powerful reminder of how fragile reality is and how comforting and inspiring solidarity can be.”
The film has, at face value, a hopeful ending, but millions of unhappy endings remain in Afghanistan, and those who managed to escape, especially Judge Hanna, carry a profound burden of guilt at having left her beloved country behind.
“You are absolutely right. Survivor’s guilt deeply affected my protagonists. Hanna expresses it so poignantly. After the fear and stress of crossing into safety, a different reality took over,” Aboulafia agrees. “Yes, there was relief but also overwhelming guilt for those left behind. All had family and friends still in danger, and there was anxiety about what the future held and where, or if, they would find asylum.”
“It was important for me to show this,” she adds. “When Danna and I met them just after crossing into Tajikistan, it was a joyful moment for us—our mission succeeded—but for them, it was the moment they realized their previous lives were gone forever. That took me a moment to understand, and I wanted that to come through in the film.”
“The shock, decompression, and anxiety manifested physically and emotionally for months and years afterwards.”
