Market Without Visas: How Airitom Free Zone in Termez Works
Although the countries of Central Asia do not officially recognise Afghanistan’s authorities, they continue to trade and engage in political dialogue with them. Four years after the Taliban’s return to power, economic pragmatism has prevailed over fears of radical Islam spreading across the region.
In late August last year, Termez saw the opening of the Airitom Free Zone — an international trade centre where Afghans can enter without a visa.
Kursiv Uzbekistan visited the site, where merchants and buyers browse goods, discuss deals and even seek medical care.
Airitom Free Zone Revives Border Trade
According to Sanjar Soliev, head of sales at the Airitom Free Zone, the centre welcomes between 1,500 and 2,000 Afghan visitors daily. They are granted visa-free entry for up to 15 days. Around 1,000 Uzbek buyers also come each day.
The free trade zone has 300 shops and is home to 200 Uzbek and 100 Afghan entrepreneurs.
Afghan traders sell a wide range of products from their own country, Iran and China. Popular items include:
- Plastic carpets for 140,000–200,000 soums ($11.24 – $16)
- Afghan tea (200 g) for 20,000–30,000 soums ($1.61 – $2.42)
- Saffron at 20,000–50,000 soums per gram ($1.61 – $4)
- Karakul chapans (traditional coats) for $150–500 ($12 – $40.13)
- Cotton chapans for 100,000–500,000 soums ($8 – $40.13)
Uzbek merchants offer food products, lubricants, construction equipment, carpets and other local goods.
The centre also houses a logistics complex, a Hilton hotel and a modern medical facility offering treatment at discounted rates.
A Small Afghanistan in Termez
Stepping inside the vast shopping complex feels like entering Afghanistan itself. The colours, voices and aromas are distinctive from usual.
Men in traditional trousers and skullcaps greet visitors with a handshake. Women walk beside them, some with uncovered faces, others in niqabs, often accompanied by children.
The market buzzes with lively disputes, bargaining and conversations, mostly in Dari. Uzbek is rarely heard.
Men are friendly and open to conversation, but do not allow strangers to photograph or question their wives and daughters.
Near the entrance, some sit on the benches, some worshippers perform prayers on mats laid across the grass, while nearby stands an Afghan café.
Only men work there, serving families who sit cross-legged on low platforms, eating Afghan pilaf made from Indian rice. Its flavour and spices differ markedly from the Uzbek version.
For a moment, one forgets Termez lies just beyond the walls. The border seems far away.
A Market Connecting Afghanistan and Uzbekistan
Seventy-year-old Khojigul Ahmad arrived with his family to look for goods to resell and to visit the clinic. In Afghanistan, his family runs two porcelain shops. The journey, he says, was easier than expected.
«I thought the border crossing would take a long time, but it was quick. They checked our papers and let us through. By ten in the morning we were already in Airitom,» he explained.
Khojigul admitted that the trip left him with a good impression. He believes such a market is beneficial for both Afghanistan and Uzbekistan.
«Our countries are good neighbours. Such opportunities help business,» he noted.
Struggling Under Restrictions
Abdullo Turkoman has worked in the centre for six months. He first sold eggs but stopped after restrictions on exporting them to Afghanistan. He now sells carpets, tea and saffron.
The biggest obstacle, he says, is regulation. Afghans can only take goods across the border once a month, up to 10 kilogrammes worth no more than $200 in cost. As a result, many sellers incur losses and shut their shops.
Abdullo admits that working under such conditions is very difficult. At present he sells 10–15 eco-mats made from plastic threads a day, but without restrictions he could sell up to 100. They are quite popular among local residents. Abdullo hopes the rules will be eased, otherwise trade will come to a complete halt.
Trade Experience and Hope for Growth
Khursand Tursunov, aged 61, came from Samarkand. For nearly a year he has been trading dried fruits and vegetable and fruit seeds at the international centre. He learned about the centre from an online advert and expected it to be a large-scale market. He decided to bring his produce and sell it wholesale so that it would reach Afghan buyers and, through them, be carried further to Pakistan and Iran.
At first sales went well, but then they began to decline due to difficulties with importing and exporting goods. The Afghans had promised to bring their dried fruits such as raisins and apricots, but it never went beyond a few samples.
The main problem is the checks at the posts: three in total, one Afghan and two Uzbek. Inspections take a long time, passports are taken away, and 30–40 people are often kept waiting in line. Sometimes the process lasts more than an hour. Many customers lose patience and leave, which causes trade to fall.
Tursunov’s business is now on the edge of losses. Rent here is inexpensive at about 3 to 3.5 dollars per square metre, coming to around 1.6 mln soums ($128.4) a month. Yet daily sales rarely exceed 200,000–300,000 soums ($16 – $24). From that he must cover rent, provide for his family, pay for housing and food.
Khursand recalls that business used to be better. On good days his income reached 3–5 mln ($241 – $401), and at times even 15 mln soums ($1,204). But that did not last long. If the situation does not improve, he may have to close down, although he still holds out hope for better days.
Across the Border for Sugar and Oil
Jumaniyaz Murodiy from Mazar-i-Sharif runs a small grocery shop. Once a month he travels to Termez for supplies.
He has been in Termez for four days, staying at a hotel within the centre’s grounds. Before making purchases he always visits several wholesale shops to compare prices. According to him, prices here are lower than in Mazar-i-Sharif.
In Jumaniyaz’s shop he sells sugar, oil, soda, navvat, soap and other essentials, all of which he buys in Airitom.
Getting there is not easy. Leaving Afghanistan is straightforward, but entering involves numerous checks that take time and energy.
Despite this, the trader keeps coming to Termez. For him the centre is both a chance to buy goods at good prices and an opportunity to get a glimpse of life on the other side of the border.
Uzbek Doctors, Afghan Patients
The clinic on the grounds of the trade centre is always busy with patients. Both men and women of different ages come, many of them with children.
Treatment is paid for in soums. The clinic’s chief doctor, Furkat Yuldashev, notes that patients arrive not only from border towns and villages but also from Kabul, which is nearly 1,500 kilometres away.
«All our doctors are from Uzbekistan. I am from Tashkent myself and several other specialists from the capital work with me. But we also have Afghan staff — service workers and interpreters,» he says.
Most patients are diagnosed with traumatic and neurological conditions such as osteochondrosis, joint diseases, consequences of injuries and age-related problems.
67-year-old Haji Shukrullo from the city of Sheberghan came for treatment after failing to receive proper help at home.
«My leg and lower back were in pain. I am feeling better here. I am glad I found help and I hope to return to working the land,» he says.
Shukrullo cultivates rice, cotton and wheat on 10 hectares, selling the harvest to make his living.
A Song of Peace
At the clinic, among Afghan patients, I heard a familiar Russian song: «The sun in the sky, the endless horizon…» («Солнечный круг, небо вокруг…»). A man in a long Afghan tunic smiled and carried on singing: «Let there always be peace!» («Пусть всегда будет мир!»).
His name is Shamsiddin, he is 55 years old and came to the Airitom Free Zone from the city of Faryab. Once a Pioneer, he used to visit Tashkent and fondly recalls those days.
«I remember the Old Town and Chorsu market. We walked there together with Uzbek Pioneers. I liked that song. There was a monument to a Russian man with a beard, I cannot recall his name,» he said with a smile.
He was referring to the monument to Mikhail Kalinin, a Soviet statesman, which once stood in the Old Town. After the collapse of the USSR, the statue was removed.
«Is it still there?» asked Shamsiddin, with a trace of longing for the past in his eyes.
