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High on a hill in the west of the Afghan capital, Kabul, behind a steel gate topped with barbed wire, lies a place few locals speak of, and even fewer visit.
The women's wing of a mental health centre run by the Afghan Red Crescent Society (ARCS) is the largest of only a handful of facilities in the country dedicated to helping women with mental illnesses.
Locals call it Qala, or the fortress.
The BBC gained exclusive access to the crowded centre where staff find it difficult to cope with the 104 women currently within its walls.
Among them are women like Mariam* who says she is a victim of domestic violence.
Thought to be in her mid-20s, she's been here for nine years, after enduring what she describes as abuse and neglect by her family, followed by a period of homelessness.
"My brothers used to beat me whenever I visited a neighbour's house," she alleges. Her family did not want to let her out of the house alone, she says, because of a cultural belief that young girls should not leave the house without supervision.
Eventually, her brothers appeared to have kicked her out, forcing her to live on the streets at a young age. It was here a woman found her and, apparently concerned about her mental health, brought her to the centre.
Despite her story, Mariam's smile is constantly radiant. She is often seen singing, and is one of the few patients allowed to work around the building, volunteering to help with cleaning.
She is ready - and willing - to be discharged.
But she cannot leave because she has nowhere to go.
Qala is Kabul's largest mental health facility and houses 104 female patients
"I don't expect to return to my father and mother. I want to marry someone here in Kabul, because even if I go back home, they'll just abandon me again," Mariam says.
As she can't return to her abusive family, she is effectively trapped in the facility.
In Afghanistan, strict Taliban regulations and deeply-rooted patriarchal traditions make it nearly impossible for women to live independently. Women are legally and socially required to have a male guardian for travel, work, or even accessing many services, and most economic opportunities are closed to them.
Generations of gender inequality, limited education, and restricted employment have left many women financially dependent on male breadwinners, reinforcing a cycle where survival often hinges on male relatives.
Sat on a bed in one of the dormitories is Habiba.
The 28-year-old says she was brought to the centre by her husband, who was forcing her out of the family home after he married again.
Like Mariam, she now has nowhere else to go. She too is ready to be released, but her husband will not take her back, and her widowed mother cannot support her either.
Her three sons now live with an uncle. They visited her initially, but Habiba hasn't seen them this year; without access to a phone, she cannot even make contact.
"I want to be reunited with my children," she says.
Mariam has been in this facility for nine years
Their stories are far from unique at the centre, where our visit, including conversations with staff and patients, is overseen by officials from the Taliban government.
Some patients have been here for 35 to 40 years, says Saleema Halib, a psychotherapist at the centre.
"Some have been completely abandoned by their families. No-one comes to visit, and they end up living and dying here."
Years of conflict has left its mark on the mental health of many Afghans, especially women, and the issue is often poorly understood and subject to stigma.
In response to a recent UN report on the worsening situation of women's rights in Afghanistan, Hamdullah Fitrat, Taliban government's deputy spokesperson, told the BBC that their government did not allow any violence against women and they have "ensured women's rights in Afghanistan".
But UN data released in 2024 points to a worsening mental health crisis linked to the Taliban's crackdown on women's rights: 68% of women surveyed reported having "bad" or "very bad" mental health.
