For the Love of a Son: One Afghan Woman's Quest for Her Stolen Child

the Communists, then he switched to the Taliban, now
he has turned and is helping the Americans against the
Taliban.’
    Nothing surprised me when it came to Kaiss.
The man had no real loyalty to anyone. He switched political sides
as easily as I turned over in bed.
    I decided on the spot that I couldn’t wait a
minute longer. ‘Nadia, I am coming too. I am coming home to find my
son.’
    Nadia screamed at me down the phone.
‘ NO! Maryam, you cannot. Your presence here will put
everyone’s life in danger.’
    ‘How is that?’
    Nadia put a male cousin on the line, who
patiently explained. ‘Kaiss has made careful plans for the day when
you would try to see your son. He has spread many lies and turned
everyone here against you. When he first came back Kaiss reported
that Duran’s mother was a non-Muslim American woman who was dead.
He never admitted the fact that he had kidnapped Duran. When our
family reported the truth to the authorities, they called on
Kaiss’s tribe. Tribal elders have agreed to question Kaiss. They
will ask him again why he left America. If they decide he is lying,
he will be forced to wear the chador.’
    Forcing a man to wear the chador was a huge
insult. But sometimes when men lied or behaved in other shameful
ways, the tribal elders would rule that they must wear it. If this
happened to Kaiss, I knew he would be ridiculed by everyone. In
fact, he would be forced to leave the country to hide his
shame.
    My cousin continued. ‘However, Maryam, if it
is determined by the elders that you, and not Kaiss, are at fault
for the divorce, then you will be put to death, regardless whether
or not you are an American citizen.’
    ‘Oh? So the punishment is to insult the man
but to murder the woman?’ My blood was boiling. ‘You know what? I
am coming to Afghanistan and I am going to take my ex-husband to
court. With the Americans there it will be a different story.’
    My cousin raised his voice. ‘Do you think
Afghan tribes follow American law? Kaiss will say and do anything
he likes and they will believe him because he is a man. You know
that women hold no power. You know that a man’s word is taken over
a woman’s word. Nothing you say will be believed, because you are a
woman. If you come to Kabul, you are going to start a war between
two tribes, Maryam. Then who will look after our children?’
    I was trembling with rage when my cousin told
me: ‘Your son now knows about you. If he wants to see you, he will
contact you. If he does not want to see you, then that is your
fate. Now, please leave us alone!’
    Nadia got back on the phone and said, ‘Now do
you understand?’
    I was devastated with disappointment, waiting
impatiently for Big Duran to contact me, daydreaming about our
first conversation. What would I say to my son? What would he say
to me? It seemed easy: I would tell my son how much I loved him,
and how much I had missed him.
    To my despair, however, I heard nothing from
Duran. There was total silence. It was clear Kaiss had hardened my
son against me. With a heavy heart I recognized I might never see
my Big Duran again.
    In the summer of 2003, Little Duran and I
visited my cousin Zeby who was living in Düsseldorf, Germany. We
were enjoying a lazy morning eating breakfast when the telephone
rang. From Zeby’s words I could tell it was Khalid. Then she
whispered into the phone: ‘Oh my dear God, thank you.’ She began to
weep.
    I rushed over to her. I saw her write a
telephone number on a pad. The first two numbers were ‘93’, which I
recognized as the international country code for Afghanistan.
    I completely lost my composure and began
throwing myself around the room like a child. ‘ Duran’s phone
number! He called! ’
    Zeby tried to calm me down.
    I could not contain my excitement and grabbed
the phone from her.
    ‘Khalid? Khalid? He called? He called?’
    ‘Love,’ he said to me in his soft voice.
‘Take a deep breath. It is good news for you. Listen, your sister
is in Kabul again. She has located your son. He has called you.’
Khalid’s voice broke. ‘He left his number. Call him. I will hang up
now. Let me know what he says.’
    I was floating on air, mindless with joy.
Perhaps Nadia had finally recognized her role in the loss of my
son. If she was the one who brought us together, I would forgive
her for everything.
    I kept misdialing Duran’s number. The
combination of trembling fingers and blinding tears made it
impossible.
    Finally Zeby’s