Although the burka is portrayed to be one of the strongest visual symbols from the Taliban’s extremist reign, to my surprise, it actually stretches back into Afghanistan’s history. At an exhibition, an intricate ink and water colour painting dating back to the early 19th century depicts an Afghan woman sitting cross-legged in the privacy of her lavish quarters. Although she was sans burka, to my astonishment, lo and behold – the trademark blue burka lurked in the background.

For westerners, the burka epitomises the ball and chain many women fear. But put in a cultural context, it is as much a part of Afghanistan’s heritage as is any type of traditional dress throughout the world – some choose to wear it and others don’t. But then again, this is not always the case. If it is indeed the case of patriarchic dominance and there is no choice in the matter, I’m with the feminists.

Around here, Macroryan is considered one of the few apartment housing that has reliable electricity and water, not to mention shops in walking distance if you ever run out of milk or eggs. Although it looks like the slums, many government officials of high rank or well-to-do entrepreneurs live within the decaying walls of the visible legacy left by the Russians.

The choices for secure apartment housing here is limited. So here I am, in my small Macroryan apartment, thinking of the sheer waste of rapid development in Kuala Lumpur. Hordes of apartments, terrace houses and shop lots popping up like mushrooms all over the state but already left to decay in such a short time period with the lack of residents. The two extremes astound me.

These housing blocks, or more accurately residential neighbourhoods, were built by Russian architects and planners to consist of four- to five-storey apartment buildings. The blocks were made of prefabricated concrete panels, measuring three-by-four meters, that are hinged together.

These units usually housed two to four bedrooms, a kitchen and one to two bathrooms and a balcony. There is no elevator. Instead, inner stairways lead to two units on each floor. And I live on the fifth floor!

These apartment designs may seem a bit peculiar to most who are accustomed to a unit having a living room and a dining room, in addition to bedrooms. On the contrary, it seemed like the Russians were opposed to having common rooms to lounge and dine in. Once you enter the unit, a small hallway leads to two rooms on one side, a room and the kitchen on the other side and the shower and toilet doors in front. Ta-da! I just described my home.

But what makes my stay in Macroryan unique compared to my house in Malaysia is all the noises I hear after hours, as I lay awake in my bed slowly waiting for sleep. The rhythmic and frenzied bass of the wedding hall nearby; the stomping clomps and ringing bells of horses and donkeys; the power-hungry police sirens; repeated honking from over-eager drivers; the long rush of heavy trucks and the swinging blades of helicopters. The only thing missing is the ringing bell of a bicycle.

Ah, Kabul living. It’s interesting to see the layers of history in this ancient city. And you don’t have to look to hard to see it, even after 30-years of war.

Although the country did not officially exist as its own entity until the 18th century, an obvious pattern emerges. Afghanistan has played host to conflict and external interference. Since 330 BC until now, this country is still striving to find a balance to come into its own.

Its woes can be easily pushed on the hands of countries that have used Afghanistan as a stepping stone, whether it is the British, Russians, Americans or Pakistanis. But even without foreign interference, this country’s history repeats itself like a broken record – it is riddled with its own internal conflicts, disputes, coups, assassinations and revolts. Years of war and instability with what seems like small periods of peace and prosperity has carved harsh lines in its people and within the land itself.

Looking through the pages of Afghanistan’s history, you can’t help but wonder: Will this country ever achieve stability long enough to make a positive impact within the World’s arena? Or if it does, how many generations will it take? Will I be able to walk on paved sidewalks, amongst towering skyscrapers, under the shade of an impressive green avenue without jumping over overflowed drainage clogged with garbage, uneven pavements or dirt pathways and most importantly, without the worry of suicide bombers lurking close by?

It has almost been a decade since the Taliban was ousted of its pseudo-ideological throne and the presence of foreign assistance and aid. But every time I step out of the sanctuary that is my apartment, I find little evidence of development in such a time period. I’m not denying that there has been some development, like several overly ornate wedding halls, but in my perspective, it is not enough – not even close. A lot more can be done in a decade, don’t you think?

I recently went to an exhibition on Afghanistan from the years of 1830 to 1920, in which a collection of paintings, sketches and photographs on the country were displayed. One picture caught my eye, it was taken in Jalalabad in 1879. The narrow street and mud-brick buildings look no more different than what I see now in 2010 in parts of Kabul. I shook my head in disbelief and sadness filled my heart.

Paved and unpaved roads are in a bad state, there is a definite shortage of properly constructed housing and little has been done in terms of construction all together – to name a few. When I look at the small stream that is the Kabul River littered with garbage, I imagine what Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan saw centuries ago – a wide, pristine, blue river.

This is Kabul we’re talking about, an ancient city that is Afghanistan’s capital – a representation of the country to the world.

Fingers are always pointed at Pakistan’s ISI and their mission to destabilise Afghanistan but even if there is fact in those allegations, what is going on internally? Is Afghanistan so weak to keep succumbing to Pakistan’s every whim? A country that has seen great conquerors enter and leave its borders.

So let’s face the facts, Karzai has been ineffective in rebuilding a war torn country. Instead, he has built a festering nest for corruption and greed. Without unity, without accountability from the government and most importantly, the people of Afghanistan – history will repeat itself.

I don’t pretend to know all the answers and in fact, I don’t. I see what I see. Afghanistan is what it is. It does this country no good to turn a blind eye and say everything is fantastic. I don’t know what Afghanistan’s remedy is but I hope somebody finds one, for it is sheer waste to see potential flushed down the toilet so easily and so willingly. But there is one thing I know, this is not the environment I want to raise my children.

As my dad jokingly says, “What Afghanistan? They should call it Problemnistan!”

So what the hell am I doing in Kabul? Sometimes, I myself don’t have the answer to that question as I curse at the sudden lack of water from the shower just when my hair is lathered up in shampoo – its tiny soap bubbles mocking me is as they dance into my eyes. But let’s stick to the facts.

A year ago, I married an Afghan man, who is amongst the few eager to return to the homeland in pursuit of longterm financial stability or to put it bluntly, quick money (if such a thing exists). Many Afghans are more than happy to reside away from the chaos and confusion that is Afghanistan but what now seems like easy living in tropical Malaysia is not what I’m destined for.

So here I am, in a country that is continuously ravaged by war and violence, living in my little apartment and more often than not, looking out the window at the mountains surrounding this ancient city, pondering “What ifs?”

 Welcome to Kabul, Afghanistan. This is my journey to find the good and patiently endure the bad in this dusty and strongly patriarchical country. My dear readers, I hope you enjoy the bumpy ride and I certainly hope I do too.