Kabul Zoo is one of those places that tells the story of a city as vividly as any museum or historic neighborhood. Opened in 1967, it was born in a very different Afghanistan—one that was stable, outward-looking, and full of optimism. Back then, the zoo was meant to be a symbol of progress, a place where families could escape the city’s hustle and encounter animals from around the world. In those years, it was a popular spot for school trips, weekend outings, and even foreign visitors who were surprised to find something resembling a mid-century European zoo in such a distant corner of the world.
Decades of war and instability have left their mark. Some animals perished, species disappeared, and the infrastructure deteriorated. Yet the zoo endured, which is remarkable in itself. After the fall of the Taliban in 2001, efforts to restore it began, though progress has been slow. Today, lions, bears, monkeys, and rare Afghan birds still live here. One of the zoo’s most famous residents is Marjan, a lion who became a symbol of resilience after surviving a grenade attack during the civil war. Another is Hangil, an elephant gifted by China in 2002, who has since become a beloved figure among visitors.
The zoo is small but well-kept, with shaded paths winding past enclosures that, while far from ideal, offer better conditions than many animals in Afghanistan might otherwise face. In recent years, there have been attempts to meet basic welfare standards, though resources are always scarce. Local veterinarians and dedicated staff work tirelessly to ensure the animals are fed, sheltered from extreme weather, and cared for as best as possible.
For Kabul’s residents, the zoo is more than just a place to see animals—it’s a pocket of normalcy in a city that has seen too much disruption. On weekends, families gather here, children dart between enclosures, and adults sit on benches, watching the scene unfold. There are no flashy attractions or entertainment shows, just the simple interaction between people and animals. In a way, that’s its charm—the zoo doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is.
The zoo’s history mirrors Kabul’s own turbulent past. During the Soviet occupation in the 1980s, it remained open, though fewer people visited. In the 1990s, as civil war ravaged the city, the zoo suffered greatly—some animals starved, others were killed in crossfire, and a few were stolen or smuggled away. When the Taliban took control, they saw little value in maintaining it, yet even then, the zoo didn’t disappear entirely. Locals and staff secretly fed the remaining animals, risking punishment to keep them alive.
Today, the zoo relies mostly on donations and international aid. Occasionally, foreign experts visit to assess the animals or train local veterinarians, but the day-to-day work falls to Afghan staff who continue their efforts despite the challenges. The zoo has become a symbol of perseverance—a place that refused to vanish even in the darkest times.
Visiting Kabul Zoo isn’t just about seeing animals; it’s a chance to reflect on how the city has changed over the decades. There’s no luxury here, no cutting-edge facilities, just a quiet persistence. The enclosures, built in the 1960s, are worn but still standing. The trees planted back then now provide shade. And the animals, despite everything, are still here. That alone makes the zoo special.
For outsiders, the experience might feel unfamiliar. The conditions don’t meet Western standards, and the animals’ lives are far from perfect. But that’s part of what makes it unique. This isn’t a place for entertainment—it’s a reminder that life goes on, even in the most difficult circumstances. Kabul Zoo isn’t just a collection of animals; it’s a piece of the city’s culture, one that has survived wars, regime changes, and economic crises. As long as it exists, there remains a small corner of Kabul where people can pause and simply watch life unfold.
