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

educated mother had passed along her ideas about marriage,
and they were not favorable. As a child, my mother was aware of the
pervading evil that kept females helpless in the face of male
power. She knew that marriage for Afghan women meant total
submission to the husband. Should Ajab Khail reveal a different
face after they were married, no one would step forward to help
her. She would be her husband’s property.
    My mother’s opposition to the marriage
created discord within her own family. She argued with her three
brothers, who were excited by this unexpected opportunity for their
family to be linked with the wealthy Khail family. Her brothers
argued that Ajab Khail was a unique match for her. Her life would
be different from other married women, they said. Ajab was highly
educated and sophisticated and they had heard first-hand from their
cousin Rahim that he had been searching for an educated woman to be
his wife and his equal.
    Still my mother was hesitant. Already her
sisters were teasing her, warning her that such a conservative
Pashtun tribal family would require that she wear a traditional
veil, leave her job and speak in Pashto, a language my mother had
never learned. So when my father accompanied Nina and Seema to
arrange the final wedding plans, my mother’s younger brother Walid
took her by the arm to go with him and peek through the keyhole so
she could see her groom for herself. My mother said that although
the man who wanted her was very handsome and appeared distinguished
in his military costume, she remained unconvinced.
    Mother was miserable. She was living a dream
life in Afghanistan. Behind the walls of the Hassen villa, females
were considered humans with wishes and desires too, and she feared
she would lose this after she was married.
    But her father had promised Ajab his
daughter’s hand so there was nothing she could do. Despite the fact
she was from a progressive family, all Afghan girls were expected
to marry someone . Already my mother was considered far too
old for most Afghan men looking for a bride. My mother felt
helpless in the face of overwhelming opposition to her desire to
remain single, and had to give in at last.
    And so the big day finally arrived.
    The year was 1957, a fateful year. It was
when Afghanistan and the Soviet Union signed a pact. Soviet
‘technicians’ started pouring into Afghanistan, and the Soviet
government sent $25,000,000 worth of military equipment into my
country.
    But my parents were unconcerned about the
gathering Soviet menace because they were too preoccupied with
their forthcoming wedding.
    The two families agreed the wedding would
take place at the Khail galah. The Khail family waited for the
Hassen family to arrive. The men were gathered in one area and
women in another, for they believed in sexually segregated
weddings. When the much anticipated caravan of cars finally arrived
at the galah, the Hassen family spilled from the vehicles. Suddenly
loud music rang over the gate and walls. Khail women crowded the
windows of their apartments while their men waiting in the
courtyard exchanged puzzled looks. What was happening? Was that
singing? Were they hearing music ?
    Shair Khan thought he had controlled all
aspects of the wedding to be held in his home. While there would be
music and dancing later in the evening, according to his
instructions the gaiety would be segregated, men dancing with men
and women dancing with women. Never had he imagined that the
bride’s family would bring musicians, singers and dancers.
    The Hassen merrymaking was so loud that even
the livestock became restless. Shair’s gatemen opened the galah
gate and enthusiastic members of the family danced their way into
the courtyard. Drums were beating and cymbals were clanging while
women were keeping time to the music by waving sheer veils and
wiggling their hips.
    The Khail family were horrified. Ajab was
marrying into a family who allowed their women to uncover their
faces and to dance with abandon! And to wiggle their bodies in
front of men they did not know!
    Suddenly shots rang out. The musicians threw
down their instruments, the singers ceased singing and the dancers
froze. Screams rang through the crowd like electric shocks and
several people were trampled while they fought to find shelter from
what they believed was an ambush.
    The trembling guests spotted an angry man
stalking around the courtyard, waving a weapon. One of the Hassen
men recognized their assailant,