“It is either your family or Hekmat,” my family told me. “Choose Hekmat and you should forget us all.”
One afternoon after Fershta and her sisters returned home from school, their father told them he had decided to sell them, one by one, by having them engaged to be married.
Homayra’s husband was dead. The children were young and did not know that their father was gone, yet they no longer had a father to hug them, kiss their dirty faces, and play with them.
When I ask you to take care of our child, you say, “The baby is for the mother”
When we divorce, you say, “The baby is for the father”
Farah is a special place for me—
a small and lovely city with kind, helpful people.
There is no electricity, but there is love.
In Afghan culture, if the husband dies, often his wife has to marry one of his brothers. Yalda did not want to marry one of Abdul’s killers.
I was beautiful and smart, but child marriage brought me to this point. I could have studied and had a good life, but I am addicted now and everyone laughs at me.
Three nice children were playing and were very happy. But their grandmother was waiting for her son to come home and bring some food for five hungry and poor people.