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

conscious. After the
cheerleader’s voice begins to tire, and the arms of the
executioners become weary, the stoners will begin to select larger
stones and finally deliver the death blow.
    The sun was about to rise just as my father
caught sight of the galah.
    He could hear the wails of his sisters and,
believing his mother must have already died under a barrage of
stones, he jumped from his still-moving horse. When he caught a
glimpse of the stones, piled high for the stoning, he exhaled in
relief, but then he saw his mother being led to the centre of the
courtyard. She was staring trancelike at the hole in the ground
that was awaiting her body and she did not notice her son.
    Knowing he didn’t have much time, my father
rushed past the gathering crowd, ran inside the galah and shouted
for his brother.
    When he saw his brother, he fell to his
knees, pleading, ‘Brother! Do not kill my mother. I will take her
and my sisters away from the galah. You will never see us again. I
will never return here or to school. I give you all my inheritance,
my brother. Only let my mother live. You cannot kill her. You have
no right under Allah to kill her for such a thing.’
    Without waiting for his brother’s response,
my father sprinted to the courtyard and wrapped his arms round his
mother, shouting for his sisters. ‘Come to me, sisters! We are
taking our mother and leaving the galah for ever.’
    The servants and guards paused, stones in
their hands. They had no desire to execute Mayana. All the hatred
for Mayana and her children came from within the ruling family, not
from the servants’ quarters. With his sisters gathered round his
mother, Ajab moved quickly towards the gate. Suddenly his brother’s
head servant came rushing from Shair’s quarters, shouting, ‘Khan
sahib! Wait! The Khan has said that you must stay. He will honor
your demands for your mother’s life. And he gives you his word that
your mother will not be forced to marry another man.’
    Ajab paused, knowing that his brother’s order
could not now be ignored. To stalk from the galah now would ensure
all members of his family would surely be put to death. His brother
would not tolerate such insubordination, for he would lose face and
this was something he would never allow. The only advantage Ajab
had now was that Shair had given his word through the mouth of his
trusted servant, who had loudly announced it for all to hear. Shair
would be greatly shamed if he failed to keep his word.
    Ajab waited for Shair and kissed his mother’s
cheek, comforting her, telling her, ‘Do not worry.’ When Shair Khan
finally stepped outside to glare at his brother, Ajab moved towards
him, kissing his hands. ‘Thank you for your mercy, my brother.’
    To save face, for the sake of the witnesses,
all was forgiven, and Shair invited his brother to enter his
quarters. Later that day Shair Khan ordered his driver to deliver
his brother back to school in his motor vehicle.
    My father had no choice but to leave his
mother and sisters and return to school, knowing that he must be
educated in order to find a good job and care for them all. His
three beautiful sisters were of an age to be married yet, strangely
enough, Shair still had made no attempt to find them husbands. My
father could only assume that Shair didn’t want his sisters to slip
from his control.
    My father often said that despite his fear
and his youth, he became a man that day, the day he saved his
mother from a gruesome death by stoning.
     

Chapter
III
    The years passed by with few changes.
Grandmother Mayana and her three daughters continued to live under
the cruel hand of Shair Khan, while my father pursued his
education. He was an unusually solemn young man, his head filled
with the responsibilities that faced him. His only goal in life was
to finish his education, settle into a steady job and return to the
galah to protect his mother and sisters.
    After graduating with honors from the
military school, Ajab was enrolled in a British military college in
northern India, which is today’s Pakistan. At the time, India was
still a British colony and most of the students there were British.
Only a few Indian students were allowed and they came from the most
influential families.
    The British method of schooling was very
different from what my father was accustomed to in Afghanistan. The
courses were more difficult and the discipline more rigorous. Yet
he liked his new school, for he knew he was receiving