Arrested Development in Kabul: Housebuilding between legal hurdles and rising demand 

I own a factory here in Kabul making toilet pipes. We used to produce three types of pipe, until the IEA’s new building requirements ruined my business. I waited for about a year after they announced the building permits, hoping things would improve and construction work would pick up again. While I waited, I gave pipes on credit to shopkeepers worth four million afghani [USD 60,600]. But they couldn’t repay me because they couldn’t sell any pipes; there was no construction in the city. My sales dropped significantly, eventually reaching zero. This is when I left and moved to Lahore because I thought I’d spend all of my money for nothing. I used to employ 40 people. Now I have only two employees. One is guarding my factory and the other is an engineer; I changed his duties to marketing officer. He’s now going to the market to see if we can recover those four million afghani from the shopkeepers.

Businessman Shah Mahmud was not the only interviewee to lose customers or entire businesses because of the post-2021 building regulations in Kabul. He was quick to close his business in Afghanistan and move to Pakistan to run “a much smaller enterprise” that, as he said, “is not very prosperous.” However, many others were slower to change. We heard from ten more interviewees, all men in Kabul: six working in house construction, either as skilled or unskilled day labourers or as business owners producing construction materials. The remaining four interviewees were: a property owner who had only customary ownership deeds to his house, a house owner who had secured a construction permit, a land developer, and a neighbourhood representative (wakil-e guzar). Some of the interviewees wished to remain anonymous.

Decades of unregulated housebuilding 

Land development and construction were Kabul’s most profitable economic sector for the best part of the two Republican decades (2001-21). Spurred on by the massive influx of foreign funds and seen as an investment by many prominent Afghans, house-building in the capital only showed signs of slowing when the number of internationals began to reduce after 2014 (with the end of NATO’s ISAF mission and a reduction in civilian aid) and in the last years of the Islamic Republic, when some members of the Afghan elite began to relocate out of the country.^[1] At a lower level, namely that of less wealthy Afghans moving from the provinces to Kabul in search of security or employment, housebuilding continued up to the very fall of the Republic.

Most of the construction, however, did not comply with the law. By 2004, informal settlements accounted for 70 per cent of Kabul’s residential areas, according to the World Bank and this percentage only increased over the years. Despite all being called ‘informal settlements’, they are actually very varied, ranging from the palace-style mansions built by powerful land-grabbers in central neighbourhoods like Sherpur to little more than shacks giving shelter to newly-arrived families settling in peripheral or steep-sided areas of the city. While the informal settlements built by families constructing their own homes prevented a major crisis of homelessness in the capital, allowing the city’s housing to keep pace with the arrival of newcomers, including displaced persons and returnees, they also posed a future challenge to any government wanting to regulate the urban landscape and implement a master plan.^[2]

The issue of what type of ownership document one has is a critical thread running through this report. Most property owners – 80 per cent, according to a former housing minister – only have an urfi qabala, customary deeds, which are not legally recognised, under both Islamic law and Afghanistan’s civil law.^[3] Only a sharia qabala, a legal ownership document, is recognised by the courts. However, as this report will show, even those holding a sharia qabala often struggle to get permission from the authorities to build.

The birth of the construction permit

One of the first decisions of the Islamic Emirate after taking power in August 2021 was to stop unplanned and unapproved construction. Kabul Municipality banned house construction in Kabul on 27 September 2021: the aim, according to a Pajhwok report (Pajhwok), was to prevent illegal high-rise buildings. Several months later, on 13 May 2022, the Ministry of Urban Development and Housing (MUDH) explained in a statement that “the houses and buildings constructed without proving ownership have created problems and have caused barriers and delays in urban development.” It went on: “Carrying out unauthorised house construction impacts the assets of our compatriots. Most of the time, it threatens the lives of compatriots and impedes the implementation of the government’s huge and beneficial plans.”

However, on 22 August 2022, the ban was lifted. Kabul Municipality said the change of heart was due to the need for urban expansion, job creation, economic activity, and the provision of facilities for those who wanted to construct high-rise buildings. The Kabul Municipality’s Spokesman, Niamatullah Barakzai, told Azadi Radio: “The people who possess land and want to build houses, they can apply for permission from the Kabul Municipality. First, the Land Department^[4]  will check their ownership documents, whether they are legal or customary and after they have been confirmed, the municipality will issue permission [to build] within three days.” However, this opportunity to apply for a permit lasted only six months, most of them in winter, when harsh weather – snow, frost and below-zero temperatures – makes it impossible to build.

Then, eight months later, on 24 April 2023, the policy was again reversed. The Ministry of Urban Development and Housing Spokesman, Muhammad Kamal Afghan, said (Salam Watandar):

Construction work has been banned across Kabul because most tall buildings as well as residential and commercial buildings have been built in places in Kabul that contradict the master plan. These have caused problems. Therefore, construction has been banned for a short time.

He did not specify how long the “short time” would last. Then, on 11 May 2023, MUDH clarified in a statement that the ban applied only to construction without a permit:

All respected citizens are hereby informed to refrain from constructing houses arbitrarily in the cities. The unplanned and unsystematic construction of buildings and houses has created many problems in cities, hindered equitable development and resulted in time inefficiencies and the waste of the Emirate’s and citizens’ resources.

Kabul Municipality echoed this, with spokesman Barakzai saying on 22 September 2024: “House construction in Kabul is permitted and each inhabitant of Kabul can build a one to ten-storey building.” He further explained that the permission was conditional on there being proof of land or house ownership and on permission for house building from the municipality having been obtained (Salam Watandar).

The purpose of the new requirement was to create “a beautiful Kabul,” Barakzai said in the Kabul Municipality accountability session held in late July 2025: “Therefore, it is indispensable for every single owner of a house to have a legal document from the Land Department to prove that the house belongs to him.”^[5] Barakzai also said that the IEA did not want houses to be built and then destroyed and it did not  “want to be criticised after the destruction of houses because of road construction or any other plan of the government.” (RTA)

From our observations, it seems that building permits are mainly issued to large investors constructing buildings of five to ten stories – exactly the type of building the initial September 2021 decree was designed to stop. Several buildings of this type currently under construction are visible, for example, in the Qala-e Fathullah area of district 10. Interviews with ordinary and poor Kabulis, on the other hand, suggest they are ignored in the Land Department and are unable to get permission to build homes. The building of ordinary homes stopped with the arrival of the Emirate and has barely restarted, unlike the high-rise buildings that are now under construction. The overall effect of contradictory statements and government bodies’ mixed attitudes, combined with the difficulties of navigating the required paperwork, has been to slow house construction. That has also hurt employment in Kabul, especially for the poorest – most construction workers are day labourers or labourers working for a company.

Labourers and businessmen speak about the downturn in construction

Day labourers who previously worked in construction told us they were now unable to find work. One man, with a family of nine, said they now depend on one of the daughters, who is employed as a teacher at a private school and earns 3,000 afghani [USD 40] per month, because he cannot find work. He used to go to a chowk (square) every day from 6:00 am to 11:00 am seeking work for the day. Under the Republic, he said he would find work as a day labourer, but not anymore. After seeking work every day for the last five months, he had become disillusioned and begun to look for other ways to earn some money:

I knew there was no work to be found [in Kabul]. I’m in debt for about 20,000 afghani [USD 300]. I tried to go to Iran. There were smugglers in Nimruz province who could have taken me to Iran and our villagers were willing to lend me money to pay them, but I couldn’t even afford to get myself to Nimruz. 

Other interviewees had also tried to get to Iran – some with more success. Another day labourer described how he had managed to get there, but only to stay for a few months:

When the IEA banned construction and I couldn’t find work in Kabul, I got a passport and a visa for Iran and went there. The work was good, but I wasn’t allowed to stay long. Iran also made the conditions for staying stricter for Afghans. I didn’t get a visa extension, so I had to come back.

Some interviewees had lived off their savings but soon spent them and then were living hand-to-mouth, as another day labourer described:

Before the arrival of the Emirate, I always had around 400-500,000 afghani [USD 6-7,000] in my bank account. But now I have no money at home. I haven’t paid the rent for four months – I struggle to find the money for it. I have spent eight years in this house. Luckily, the owner puts up with my poverty.

Another day labourer told AAN:

I can hardly find any work nowadays. I tried to get my son engaged and married. He was engaged and we held the nika ceremony. I thought work would pick up again, but it hasn’t. My son’s been waiting for the past three years to bring his wife home, but there just isn’t enough money to cover the wedding expenses. 

Traders involved in house construction, such as those that produce or sell lintels or iron rods, are also affected. Several iron-melting factory owners in Kabul told Salam Watandar in April 2025 that the new requirements for house construction had severely affected their businesses and caused a nationwide decline in iron production. The news website quoted a representative of Rahim Gardizi Group in Kabul, Masihullah, who said the new requirements had also led to job losses. Their business, which had previously employed 400 to 500 people, could now afford only 80 to 90. The article also quoted the head of Mesam Iron Factory, Shafiq Ahmad, who described how badly his business was affected as market demand plummeted. “We were producing 200 tonnes of iron daily,” he said, “but now we can’t produce even 50 tonnes.” His experience was echoed by the owner of another company that sells construction materials:

My business has been severely affected. I sold construction materials for house construction, including beams, gates, cement and other items. We were two partners. When the Emirate banned construction at the very beginning, my partner said he wanted to sell his share. He said he didn’t think the Emirate would allow people to build houses anytime soon. I bought his part of the business from him. He was fortunate; he went to Dubai and began working there, while I was stuck with the company.

The company owner said 70 people used to work for him, including drivers, day labourers, blacksmiths, painters of beams, and others. The collapse of the market in Kabul has meant a plummeting in the number of labourers he can employ:

My business has now all but stopped. I can hardly meet my own expenses, including my company’s rent and some money for my family’s daily needs. I’ve been waiting for four years for construction to fully restart and for my business to flourish, but it hasn’t. Only seven people are now working with me. 

Carpenters, who used to manufacture doors and cupboards for the new houses, have also been hit. One man who worked for a company with more than 400 employees, including as many as 80 carpenters, said that a few months after the new requirements, the company had gone out of business:

We were told to go home. They promised they’d call us back to work once house construction was allowed again. We kept calling the owner, but the company never resumed operations. I waited for six months. When I realised that it was the end, I rented a shop on the outskirts of Kabul. It’s now been more than two years since I opened my own shop. But believe me, I can only find enough work to pay the rent for my shop. My life used to be good! I was earning a good wage under the Republic. I have now spent all the money I earned over the last twenty years. Fortunately, one of my sons is abroad with his family. He sends some money from time to time and I live off that money. 

Nowadays, many families depend on daily wages, if work can be found, or, like the carpenter, remittances sent by relatives abroad. As reported in a previous AAN report on remittances from the Gulf, these are a lifeline for many households and for the country as a whole: the World Bank estimated total remittances in 2022 at 1-1.2 billion USD, double the amount sent home in 2019. As a means of comparison, in 2022, UN shipments of dollars used to pay for humanitarian aid amounted to 1.8 billion USD. (AAN). Since the collapse of the Republic, hundreds of thousands of Afghans have migrated to Western countries and many send money to their impoverished relatives in Afghanistan. Remittances from Iran and Pakistan, on the other hand, have been shrinking because of the high number of Afghans forced to return from those countries.

Impact of the new requirements on homeowners

AAN also heard from several homeowners and a wakil-e guzar (neighbourhood representative), all of whom said that for those with only customary documents (urfi qabala), the new regulations amount to an outright ban on building. It is impossible for them to get permission because the IEA says the land they want to build on is state land. They cannot build new homes nor build extensions to their existing houses. However, the interviewees also said that, even for holders of legal deeds (sharia qabala), getting a building permit was extremely difficult, as there is an additional hurdle: the deeds need to be verified by the Land Department. Trying to get that verification, they reported, is complicated and marred by bureaucratic delays and corruption.^[6]

The IEA is strictly enforcing the requirement for a building permit, with government engineers and other employees patrolling the city’s various districts, making it impossible for citizens to build a house without one. When needed, the IEA enlists district police officers for this purpose. They check for construction work and ask owners to show them their written permission from the municipality. If they do not have a permit, the police order them to halt the work. If the owner does not stop, they return with officials from the municipality and machinery to pull down houses and destroy whatever work has been carried out. A wakil-e guzar told AAN that they had been told in a WhatsApp group to inform the head of the district whenever they noticed construction work in their area. “If any construction work is found ongoing,” he said the message stated, “and the representative of the street or wakil-e guzar has not informed the relevant officials, they will both be dealt with according to the law [ie held accountable].”

One of our interviewees, Gul Alam, who possesses only customary ownership documents, told us about the new room in his two-bedroom house that he had wanted to build to accommodate his newly-married son:

I was adding a room for my son, who was getting married last year. I’d started work when the municipal officials arrived. They asked me for my permit and then stopped me building the room. I waited for nine months, but there was still no progress. Finally, I rented out my house for 5,000 Afghani [USD 70] a month to someone else and I rented a house with four rooms [for myself] for 9,000 Afghani [USD 130].

Yet, proving land or house ownership and securing a permit from the ministry and municipality is a lengthy and tedious process, as a land developer explained:

I have a lot of experience in this, know the offices and officials very well, and know how to get permission. Still, it takes me more than three months to get a house construction permit. It must take poor people, who are unfamiliar with government offices and this kind of work, twice as long.

According to a house construction company, it does take that long – more than six months – for an ordinary person to get proof of ownership from the Land Department and Housing. That can also entail, said the developer, either getting a recommendation from someone with good connections or facing a demand for a bribe. Another interviewee, Ahmad Khan, who does have legal deeds for his land, said:

I had my sharia qabala in my hand. I wanted to build a house for myself in District 7. I went to the municipality to get permission. I was told to go and bring proof that the land where I want to build the house belongs to me. I struggled for two months, but couldn’t get the proof of ownership I needed to get a permit to build a house. Finally, I decided to continue paying rent for the house I live in, which costs 8,000 afghani [USD 120]. I gave up because I knew I would either have to pay a bribe, although nobody had asked for one, or have a trustworthy person recommend my case. I didn’t know anyone to give me a recommendation and I didn’t want to pay a bribe either. Therefore, I gave up trying to prove my ownership. 

Like Ahmad Khan, others who tried to use their legal documents to prove land ownership and obtain a building permit also reported failure, while others, like this man, said they did finally succeed, but only after paying a bribe:

I have legal documents and I tried to get permission to build my house from the Emirate. First, I tried to prove ownership of my land using my legal documents, but because of bureaucracy and the lengthy process, I couldn’t prove it and couldn’t get a building permit. I struggled for more than a year. I was exhausted and abandoned the application in the middle of it all. But then I found an Emirate official in the relevant department and asked him to help me. We agreed that I’d give him USD 2,000 and that he’d help me get a permit. I gave him the sum in advance and, finally, I built my house.

According to another homeowner, although there is less demand for bribes under the current government than under the Republic, when such requests are made, the amounts are enormous. “People can’t just adopt the shortcut of giving a bribe and getting a go-ahead for their construction work. It would cripple the house owner financially.” Despite the IEA’s repeated claims of easing the permission process, all our interviewees said that, in practice, it remains complicated.

Maybe the most telling is a story of a homeowner who possesses a customary document and tried to obtain permission to rebuild his house. For this, he went to the relevant department but was told that customary document holders are not allowed to build houses at all. Ultimately, he decided to seek help from someone in the government. He said he got in touch with an Emirate official and made a deal with him, though the outcome was ultimately disastrous:

I gave a 2,000-model Corolla car to this Emirate official. He instructed me to proceed with the construction of the house. I began working on it, feeling confident that no one would stop me. For about two months, I worked on building my house. After that period, officials from the municipality, along with the police, arrived and brought a crane to demolish my home. I pleaded with them many times not to destroy it, but despite my pleas, they demolished my house and left. Additionally, my 2,000-model Corolla, which is worth around USD 5,000, was lost.

Trying to sell a house

The next problem for those holding deeds, whether legal or customary, is trying to sell the house. AAN heard from a property dealer in Kabul who said the new requirement was also affecting the housing market: “When attempting to sell someone’s home, buyers request proof of ownership from the Land Department, which most people don’t have.” Selling land with only customary documents, he said, is even more of a challenge: “The IEA has repeatedly sent us letters warning that we [property dealers] should not sell land, houses, shops or other assets belonging to people who only possess customary documents.”

On 1 August 2025, the IEA circulated a draft law on land deeds (AAN received a copy).^[7] It states that the IEA will sell land to those claiming to own it by the possession of customary documents, subject to certain caveats, that they have not been found guilty of land-grabbing themselves, and with a limit on the maximum amount of land they and their relatives can re-purchase (see caveats in footnote 7). The law would also outlaw those identified by the Land-Grabbing Prevention and Restitution Commission as usurpers of land from buying land. It remains unknown when the law will be ratified and when land prices will be finalised.

The future of Kabul’s housing market

Kabul Municipality’s most recent move, in late July 2025, to allow and even promote building activities, demonstrates the government’s interest in attracting investment and raising funds through issuing building permits. But these policies have also restricted the ability of most residents to build or make improvements to their houses and have sharply reduced employment in one of Kabul’s most important labour markets.

After years of crisis, the property market in Afghanistan, especially in Kabul but also in other major cities, has seen increased demand and rising prices, which have only intensified since the start of mass forced returns of Afghans from Iran and Pakistan – more than four million since September 2023 (IOM). Most returnees seek to settle in cities, although not all are permitted to do so by the IEA. While many face economic hardship, some still have cash to invest – whether to pay rent in advance or to purchase flats and houses. This has intensified competition in the housing market, with many Kabul residents complaining about eviction pressures driven by rising rents.

Supply, however, has not kept pace with demand. Although high-profile construction projects have restarted and some partially constructed buildings are now being completed, including high-rises that had long been abandoned due to the ban or lack of funding, these are largely driven by large investors rather than ordinary residents. For the average Kabuli seeking to build or expand a home, getting a building permit for those with legal documents is difficult and complicated, and for those without recognised ownership documents, it is next to impossible.

The decline in property sales caused by the new regulations has not led to a fall in land or house prices. As AAN reported in December 2024, prices did fall after the collapse of the Republic, but only for about two years. Since then, demand has picked up, but supply has not, pushing property prices – and rents – to skyrocket. They are now almost back up to where they were during the Republic. Afghans with some capital to invest, such as households with family members abroad sending remittances, are trying hard to invest in property. But property, especially property that can be legally sold, has become increasingly difficult to find and this heightened demand, in turn, keeps driving up prices.

The IEA’s attempt to regulate Kabul’s long-out-of-control construction sector and to prioritise government and municipal planning in urban development has so far been only partly successful, for example, in building roads. These gains, however, have come at a very high cost for Kabul residents, both old and new. Policies which end up creating roadblocks in the lives of ordinary citizens risk opening the door to abuse and corruption, as law-abiding citizens are forced to seek loopholes and shortcuts to get around them. Addressing the crises in employment and housing in a fair and equitable way will require a major readjustment to the policies implemented so far.

Edited by Jelena Bjelica, Fabrizio Foschini and Kate Clark