Shaima was one of my best friends in eighth grade. She loved to talk, but she had a hearing problem and was tormented by the loud shrieking of students. So she didn’t do well in her lessons, but she was very friendly and that was important to me.
Every day we went to the basketball stadium to play games. Shaima and I were some of the laziest players on the team, but we were happy. I was happy all through eighth grade until the day of our final test in geography class. When I came to school, I saw that everyone was crying rather than studying for the test.
“What’s up, guys?” I asked. “Why are you crying?’’
“Shaima is not coming back to school,’’ they answered.
“Why?” I asked.
“Her father forced her to get engaged,” they said. Shaima’s family was not in a good financial situation. Her father wanted Shaima to bring in money for the other children so he forced her to marry. She was 16, too young to be married, but she didn’t know how to avoid the biggest trap of her life.
I didn’t do or say anything. I was too afraid. My friend needed me more than ever, but I knew nothing could be changed. Now I feel only sorrow. Is Shaima alive? Is she happy?
***
Another good friend, Vahida, sat next to me in school. She was very afraid of our English teacher because her family didn’t allow her to go to the English course outside school. She had lots of problems in English, but I helped her by doing her homework.
One day when I came into class, I found Vahida crying. “What’s up?” I asked.
“I have no friends,” she said. “No one in class thinks about me, even for one minute.’’
“I’m your friend,” I said.
“Really?” she said. “I never thought I would be your friend.”
I didn’t want to become friends with a lazy girl. But Vahida’s sweet, caring nature and her kindness influenced me, and we became best friends. She taught me the meaning of friendship. Every time I saw her smiling, school seemed perfect to me, until one day, a day that changed my life.
“Are you Alia?’’ It was Vahida’s cousin’s daughter.
“Yes. Why?’’
“Vahida won’t be coming back to school. Her mother is sick and wants her to do the housework instead of going to school.”
I don’t know how I passed that day. I cried for two hours in class. Vahida was just 15, too young to stay home and do the housework. She should be learning. The next morning Vahida came to school to say goodbye. I asked her to stay, but she said, “I can’t.”
That was the last sentence I heard from Vahida: “I can’t.”
By Alia, age 13
Wow, Alia. These two stories–vignettes–they say so much. The pitfalls that every girl must avoid…and how many girls *cannot* avoid them. I imagine being you in the classroom, and losing your friends one by one, and it’s almost like you’re losing them to a sickness, or someone has grabbed them and stole them away in the night. But there’s no disease, no soldiers, just the traps…the traps laid out for girls that keep them from being able to stay in school and have any control over their future. This is moving work, Alia. And very instructive. Please keep writing. Stacy
Dear Alia — This is such a sad, poignant essay about the loss of two dear friends to the traps laid for women in Afghanistan. The last line in your essay about the last thing you heard from Vahida was “I can’t” felt like a punch in the stomach to me. Such horrible hopelessness from her — something that I’m sure your other friend who was forced into marriage felt as well. I hope you will keep writing and telling us these truths about the things that happen in your country. You are doing very important work. Best wishes, Nancy
Keep up the writing, Alia. Thanks for sharing these heartfelt moments with us. Take care, Seale
Your story was really touching because it made me think about people who are in situations than I never imagined me in. In reading this story I realized how hurt I would be if my friends were to never come back to school. I too have two friends who I am extremely close with and if they didn’t show up to school the next day, I wouldn’t know how to talk or write about it. I commend you on this piece of work because it takes a strong young lady not only to handle a situation that can hurt one’s emotions so much but to then go out and write about it. I am looking forward to reading more of your work.
I am a Arabic & Maori girl living in New Zealand. This story is touching but it also speaks the hard truth of what some girls have to go through in order to get an education, many take education for granted. Many developed countries in fact. As I am a half caste, I know how girls and women have to go through in order to get to school, in order to get an education. This story shows a small fraction of tough times the women of Afghanistan have to go through, in fact women in the Middle East have to go through. I am still waiting for the day where women have equal rights, where girls can go to school without getting death threats. We have come into this society where it is okay to marry your daughter at the age of 16. She should be in school becoming something bigger then just a housewife, she should be devoting her life to her dreams and aspiration. This story is no only touching, this story is powerful and shows the cold hard truth of this generation today, how girls don’t know when they’re last day of school will be.