'Beautiful Corolla': Afghanistan's enduring love affair with Toyota

Kabul: Little is certain in Afghanistan but when the key of a Toyota Corolla turns in the ignition, the engine can be relied upon to roar to life. A humble Japanese runabout with a reliable albeit unglamorous reputation, the Toyota Corolla is said to be the world's most popular car, with over 50 million trundling off production lines since 1966.

Sturdy, uncomplicated and affordable, it is finely tuned for a nation where roads dissolve into punishing terrain, repairs rely on frayed supply chains, and a "make do" mentality has emerged from decades of hardship. "These cars have always been there for people," says mechanic Mohammad Aman. "If you travel with these cars, they can take you anywhere."

In Afghanistan, Corollas are virtually ubiquitous. Even hauling up a mountain in a 4X4 you may be overtaken by a careening Corolla driver.

And Afghans everywhere emblazon their vehicles with English-language tributes romanticising the brand: "Happiness is a Toyota feeling", "Toyota sets the standard" and "Beautiful Corolla" have become the unofficial slogans of Kabul's grinding traffic jams.

Everywhere, families cram into the car, with passengers far outnumbering seats. "In other countries everything is used in the way it's intended," said auto dealer Azizullah Nazari. "But in Afghanistan people don't care much about such standards." The 39-year-old has sold imported Corollas to suit any budget - $1,500 to $14,000 - and many seem to have taken a circuitous route to the country.

He points to a pristine white model apparently originating from Canada. Its interior is lined with Korean newspaper and it has a Ghanaian number plate. Another has a bumper sticker from a US university; one more has the incongruous coat of arms of a district in central Germany. But all their roads have led to Afghanistan, where "people have a special craze for Toyota", Nazar insists.

Such is Afghans' faith in the car that the capital's largest repair market is not served by paved roads. Shuhada-e Salehin is a jungle of interchangeable spare parts where Corollas are praised for their workaday dependability. "Some people's rides are simple, but some have a passion for making them fancy," explains mechanic Aman.

Begrimed with engine grease, his colleagues peer under the hood of an impossibly battered 1991 wagon - its paintwork cracked like a dry riverbed, the back wheel chocked with a stone, a peeling "fantastic Corolla" decal stuck to the window.

Next door, others fiddle with tendrils of wiring in the footwell of a Corolla adorned with cursive verse: "HighSpeed Toyota. Top and fantastic car in the world. Compatible with all condition." A dull green model nearby is improbably branded "Dramatic Classic Car".

Out in Kabul's afternoon traffic, 27-year-old cab driver Naqeebullah pilots a sun-bleached Corolla three years his senior as he scouts for fares. He estimates 80 percent of vehicles on the road match his. "All cars have failed to show results apart from the Toyota Corolla," he puts it simply. Swaying from his rearview mirror is a prayer card. "Glorified be the one who has made this means of transport subservient to us," it reads.