Residents reached their boiling point last week, after a second kidnapped boy was killed. Hundreds of men poured into the streets, demanding that President Hamid Karzai fire the provincial governor and police chief. Some threw rocks at military vehicles and chanted, "Down with the warlords!" Witnesses recalled some adding, "Bring back the Taliban!"

Both provincial officials are former militia leaders -- commonly called warlords in Afghanistan -- whose fighters reportedly preyed on residents before they were driven out by the Taliban. They regained power, like a number of other current officials, by joining the U.S.-led military forces that defeated the Taliban in late 2001.

In response to the protest, Karzai dispatched a top security aide to Kandahar and promises were made to bolster the local police force with reinforcements from the capital. There were also reports that Karzai might transfer the police chief to another province. But residents are demanding more action by Karzai, who was elected in October after making campaign pledges to remove the warlords from power.

"We don't want any more promises on paper," said a landowner and tribal leader who, like many residents, spoke on condition of anonymity for fear of retaliation by the government. "We want Mr. Karzai to keep his word."

The Kandaharis' complaints echo those of Afghans across the country. Last Monday, demonstrators in the northern city of Mazar-e Sharif called for the resignation of Gen. Attah Mohammad, the strongman who governs their province, complaining that he had stolen people's land.

Human Rights Watch, a U.S.-based advocacy group, charged last week that numerous former warlords, who hold many provincial governorships and top police jobs, "have been implicated in widespread rape of women and children, murder, illegal detention, forced displacement, human trafficking and forced marriage." There are also allegations that some militia leaders and civilian officials are involved in drug trafficking.

The rising discontent in Kandahar could prove particularly problematic for Karzai, who was born here and has drawn much support from the region's Pashtun ethnic group to which he belongs. Many Kandaharis, once alienated by the harsh rule of the Taliban, say their early support for Karzai is now giving way to a grudging nostalgia for the Taliban era.

At that time, many said, a person could walk around the city carrying quantities of cash and drive roads long after dark without fear. Today holdups are common, few people venture out after sunset, and many are haunted by a sense of vulnerability.

Nazar Khan, who sells television sets in a bazaar, said that as a teenager, he hated the Taliban for banning music and forcing him to listen in secret to his favorite singers. "But at least under the Taliban we had security," Khan said.

Because of the kidnappings, Khan now drives his four older children to school and takes them to his stall afterward to keep a close watch on them. The 2-year-old stays with him all day.

"One moment I'm making a sale," he said. "The next minute I'm turning around and wondering: Where did my son go?"

There is much about Kandahar that underscores how far it has progressed since the Taliban's ouster. Bazaars are filled with merchandise, from photos to VCRs, that would have been unthinkable during the Taliban era. Picking through the wares are scores of women -- most of them veiled because of tribal custom, but far more numerous than they would have been in the days when the Taliban morals police prowled markets with leather whips.

Above the streets, satellite dishes peek out from rooftops. At the soccer stadium where the Taliban once staged public stonings of alleged adulterers, painters prepare the grounds for a youth tournament.

Still, residents say, the outward trappings mask entrenched problems, from lack of jobs to street crime. Many said they personally knew someone whose motorbike, car or other property had been stolen, often at gunpoint. Zahir Jan, 35, a stadium painter, said he longed to find a better job but would be satisfied with the government if it weren't for the kidnappings.

"Imagine how things are, that we are wishing for the Taliban again," he muttered.

Khalid Pashtoon, a spokesman for Gov. Gul Agha Shirzai, said reports of kidnappings were greatly exaggerated. In most cases, he said, children reported missing had merely wandered off.

"Sometimes people in Kandahar get confused," Pashtoon said. "They've been raised amid continuous fighting, and they have a very pessimistic mindset. . . . But most of this is just rumor." As for the street protest last week, Pashtoon said there were signs that members of a Taliban splinter group were involved.

Khan Mohammed, the police chief, said that since he took office six months ago, the number of robberies in Kandahar has dropped dramatically. "If before we had five to 10 robberies a week, now that's what we have in a month," he said.

Mohammed said that apart from the two boys killed recently, the police had received "no reports of kidnappings at all" and had made no arrests. But several residents said they personally knew of other children who had been kidnapped for ransom.

Members of the Afghan Independent Human Rights Commission noted that many kidnappings may not be reported to police. The logbooks at Kandahar's independent radio station indicated that it had received 10 to 15 requests per month to broadcast reports of missing persons, most of them children. But the station does not keep track of the circumstances of each child's disappearance or whether they are found.

Whatever the facts may be, there is a widespread perception here that children are frequently kidnapped. Furthermore, some people suggested that instead of tracking down the culprits, the police themselves may be involved. Mohammed, the chief, categorically denied the accusation, and no residents could provide hard evidence. Instead, they pointed to suspicious circumstances.

Abdul Qader, for example, said a friend's young son had been kidnapped several months ago and then released. "Now, every time that boy sees men in uniform, he becomes afraid," Qader said. "Why would he act that way unless some officials were involved?"

Then there was Qader's own experience with the police. He did not report his son's disappearance, he said, because he believed the police would not help him. Instead, he broadcast appeals for information on television and radio.

After news of his son's death became public, Qader said, the governor called him in for a meeting. Qader said Shirzai promised to track down those responsible. Instead, he said, national intelligence police arrested one of Qader's cousins and two of his brothers.

Pashtoon said police had obtained evidence that one of the brothers, who remained in custody, was a member of an organized crime gang from Pakistan. Qader said that the charges were baseless and that, after two weeks, he finally persuaded the police to release his brother.

"The governor said he would help me, but instead he caused me even more pain," Qader said.

© 2005 The Washington Post Company