Afghan Women's Writing Project
She is not a commodity to be hidden,
under black Hijab.
Worthless people do not know the worth
The key is within you.
Open Heaven’s door with love,
With kindness, honesty.
Find paradise where you are.
Now my younger sisters will not be forced to marry a man who sees women only as feeble-minded, second-class citizens or weak members of society.
The Mullah laughed and turned to the girls and teased: “Oh, I will see how you girls will go to school!”
I have wanted to go to South Africa ever since reading about Nelson Mandela’s hard work for peace and his anti apartheid movement.
I am going to draw your dreams in Baba’s big rocks
Your smiling face in Buddha’s visage
We will laugh out loud
Holler and hoot
I feel homesick for the
Crowded streets of Kabul
For the loud voice of the potato seller in the alley
“Look, we are Muslims. A good Muslim always follows the Islamic rules. Give this letter to your father and tell him that he should not listen to music anymore.”
When we would go outside to the trees every evening to gather almonds and walnuts, she recited Hafiz’s poems along the way and I walked by her side.
Let’s learn from the gardener
Whose dreams are green
History is changed by the small actions of ordinary people. —Zahra A.
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