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

allowed
one moment’s happiness since the day their father died. Their lives
had been taken away when they were in their prime, when they should
have been cuddling up with their own sons and daughters.
Grandmother Mayana felt she had failed her daughters. Now they were
gone for ever, and there was nothing she could do but mourn their
loss so deeply that her son feared for her sanity.
     

Chapter
IV
    My father was welcomed into the highest ranks
of society when he returned to Afghanistan. Yet he was strangely
uninterested, choosing to live a quiet life instead. He took up
residence in the galah, offering what consolation he might to his
mother, and his career took the remainder of his attention. His
combination of language skills, high education and travel soon
resulted in his appointment as a major in Intelligence in the
Afghan military. His branch of government was increasingly busy
during 1953 as Pakistan had bombed tribal villages in the Afridi
area, creating tension between Karachi and Kabul – it appeared the
two Muslim neighbours would never enjoy peace. There were stirrings
of an alliance between Afghanistan and Russia when a protocol was
signed at Kabul. Our government was enthused because the Soviets
signalled they were choosing Afghanistan over Pakistan.
    There were other notable changes. The Afghan
government was slowly awakening from years of isolation, putting
Afghan labourers to work on improving transport facilities, on
irrigation projects and in oil exploitation.
    On a personal level, talk of marriage
surrounded my father. Generally Afghan people marry young, but my
father remained unmarried even as he neared middle age. But in 1953
my father was thirty-six years old, and all the family agreed the
time had come for him. Shair considered the matter solely his
business, and announced that my father’s superior education would
work in their favour when it came to negotiating for a bride from
an influential family. ‘I will find my brother the best wife,’ he
smugly claimed.
    My father had his own ideas about the kind of
woman he would like to marry. After years of residing in Europe, he
had discovered that he took pleasure in the company of women who
were educated, women who could be a man’s friend as well as
romantic partner. He had admired how the English often chose love
over family expectations, and he had concluded that he must marry
an equal, a woman who would be his partner in every aspect of his
life. Of course, my father had to gain permission from his older
brother before he could marry such a woman, so he mustered his
courage and told Shair, ‘Brother, I have decided I will marry an
educated woman, someone who will be my equal in life.’
    As a man who believed females to be only
slightly above beasts of burden, and that the purpose of a woman
was for nothing but a man’s pleasure and as a vessel to bear sons,
Shair was stunned. Never had he heard a man speak like that about
women. His own father, Ahmed Khan, had married seven women during
the course of his life, and those women had played no role in life
outside serving him and bearing his children. Admittedly Shair’s
father had shown surprising partiality towards Mayana, but Shair
had never respected his father for showing his love for his
youngest wife, but instead viewed his devotion as an affront to
manhood.
    Shair’s ideas were not unusual. Most men in
Afghanistan scorned and mistreated females and nearly all Afghan
women lived in subjection verging upon slavery. To hear his own
brother speaking of treating a woman as his equal was almost more
than Shair could bear. For the first time he regretted sending his
younger brother to Europe.
    Shair was so opposed to the idea that once he
gathered his thoughts, he began shouting. ‘You will not be allowed
to taint our family bloodline with an educated woman! Do you think
you will marry a girl who will only speak Farsi? Do you think you
will marry a woman who will want to work outside the home? Do you
think you will bring a woman into the family who will expose
herself to other men? No! No! No!’
    My father stood quietly with his new-found
calm and determination. Although the ingrained fear of Shair and
the habits of his childhood were difficult to overcome, his
education and experiences had given him enough confidence to defy
his brother on certain topics. He cleared his throat and spoke
softly. ‘If you will not allow me to marry the woman I want, then I
will not marry at all.