After two years of living in Kabul, I returned to Mazar-i-Sharif. Much had changed there, but I had changed even more. I didn’t look at things as I had when I was a child. I saw Fatema, my childhood friend. In my memory, Fatema was always so young and happy. But now she was sad. And my joy at seeing my childhood friend turned to sorrow.
Fatema used to live happily, unwed, with her family, but she was past the age of twenty-five. By that age, most Afghan women are already married. Her mother had married off her two brothers and two sisters. She wanted Fatema to be taken care of. So she married Fatema to a widower old enough to be her father. By doing this, she destroyed Fatema’s dream of studying and finding someone she loved to marry.
“They destroyed my future because of my age,” Fatema told me. “They thought that by marrying me to a rich man, he would make me happy and give me all the things they wanted. But they were wrong. My happiness was not in money.”
It hurt me to see my friend in this state and be unable to help her because I am a woman. I worry about the women of Afghanistan. Day by day, violence increases against us. We are victims of our culture. I can share Fatema’s story, but there are other women and girls who can’t tell their stories because they are afraid.
Until when should women suffer and be victims of torture? Until when should they hide their tears of pain? Until when should they be exchanged for money? Is it right that we can’t decide the future of our own lives? We had hoped a new government would change things in Afghanistan, but everything is the same as before. Women still live in cages like slaves. I need to explain the pain of our people and the pain of our women. But can I explain it with words?
After leaving Fatema’s house, I saw a small girl trying to clean a car. People on the street were laughing at her. I thought: Why is she on the street? Why isn’t she studying instead? How can I take them out of the darkness? I know I alone can’t do anything, but we as a people must start anew. We should never let any girl be a victim of her family. We must give women the courage to let their voices be loud and to know their value. We must not ignore women when they talk about their rights.
Who will stop these crimes against women? Who will hear our voices? Who will hold our hands and take us out of the darkness? Who can hear the meaning of our tears? Who will bring peace to those who are begging on the streets?
For all the questions, I have one answer—unity. Our country is one of the poorest in the world because women live like slaves and do not participate in society. We as a people have forgotten to value each other as human beings. We are all equal. It is our combined hands that can destroy or build our country. If we do not try, nobody will help us.
By Shogofa
Dear Shogofa,
You ask all the right questions and your answer is the only one. What a strong piece you have written here! In gratitude for your voice,
Rachel
Dear Shogofa.
Like your experience, is happening also in some area in my country; Indonesia. You are not alone. So for me; the project to help you and others in the future is letting the girls go to study for free. the girls can choose to be a teacher, a nurse, a midwife or whatever that older people like your mother can give permit.
God bless you.
E´una tragedia epocale questa, dal medioevo si prolunga ancora sino ad oggi in molte parti del mondo. La razza umana é molto lenta ad apprendere il rispetto e il valore della vita, voi donne ne siete vittime designate.
Coraggio. non si puó far altro che continuare a lottare.
Shogofa, Wonderful writing.
“…to value each other as human beings. We are all equal. It is our combined hands that can destroy or build our country”…
This is a message for the whole world. Thank you.