This is our country, Afghanistan in 2015
Look at our rules, beliefs, and laws
It makes no place for you, who must die
Farkhunda suffered like you
Such cruelty, the inhumanity
Against you Rukhshana
Every stone thrown at your
Innocent body
Breaks our country
Those stupid hands
You begged them Please stop
Those hands are full of dark sins Rukhshana
The mullahs in the mosques
Committing sexual abuse in the corners
Blame their sins and faults on you
We watch those mullahs
We hear
Your screams Rukhshana
I died, my sister, when I saw you
Became speechless hearing you scream
Please don’t kill me this way
If God had ears that day
He would say Don’t throw a stone
At the head of Rukhshana
I wonder about those in power in my country
How they touch the bodies of their wives
How they look in the eyes of their sisters
How can they take the hands of their daughters
When I close my eyes in pain
I cry blood for Rukhshana
Against the mullahs, the ignorant judges
The Taliban and ISIS
They and their prophet
Are my enemy and yours
May your soul be in peace Rukhshana!
By Pari
Photo: Eric Kanalstein / UNAMA
Pari — Your strong, beautifully written poem is a tribute to the women — the ones we hear about and the ones we don’t — who have died violent deaths at the hands of murderous men. My heart aches whenever I imagine the horror and helplessness these women must have felt in the face of their attackers. Those men are truly our enemies. Your stanza that wonders about the men in power in your country and how they can look at their female relatives, is so powerful — a punch that says, without saying — “How can you not change things for the women in your life?” Thank you for writing this eloquent poem. Love and peace, Nancy