Read Online For the Love of a Son: One Afghan Woman's Quest for Her Stolen Child by Jean Sasson - Free Book Online
Authors: Jean Sasson
Tags: Islam, women in the middle east, islamic women, muslim women, islam and gender, losing a child, divorce, womens studies, gender studies, womens rights, women in afghanistan, stolen child, middle eastern women, middle eastern memoir, islam and divorce
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Pashtun are generally farmers while a
few are nomads, making the black goat-hair tent their home.
The Tajiks are the second largest ethnic
group, mainly living in the Panjshir valley north of Kabul, as well
in the north-eastern provinces of Parwan and Badakhshan. Some
Tajikis also farm the land, but many are herders of sheep and
goats.
The Pashtun and Tajik each had their own way
of living, their special cultures defined by an unwritten code.
Geographic factors greatly influenced the preservation of the
diversity between the two tribes. The two groups do not even share
a language, with the Pashtun speaking Pashto, and the Tajik
speaking Dari Persian, or Farsi. While the Pashtun rigidly avoid
contact with the Tajiki people, the Tajikis are more tolerant of
other ethnic groups. Due to their tolerance for diversity and
change, Tajikis tend to become more easily urbanized than do the
Pashtun.
Certainly no tribe was more intolerant than
my father’s clan and the more intolerant a group, the more unified
they become. Pashtun men feel an overwhelming need to dominate and
defend what they know. If any Pashtun suffers harm to his honor, he
will be expected to seek revenge by physical retaliation or by
insisting upon compensation in money or property. Sometimes a
Pashtun man’s code of behavior conflicts with the strict
interpretation of Sharia (Islamic) law. When this happens, a
Pashtun man will often ‘do Pashto’, choosing the tribal way over
the religious code. To a Pashtun man, nothing is more important
than ‘doing Pashto’, regardless of who might be harmed.
My father was a rare man for Afghanistan, who
opposed the ancient tribal codes, perhaps because he had personally
witnessed the terrible hurt such ignorance and inflexibility could
cause. Still, he was not willing to go to war against his brother
just so he could marry a Tajiki woman.
‘Forget it, Rahim,’ my father replied. ‘I
have enough problems as it is. My brother will not even agree for
me to marry an educated Pashtun girl. He would never accept a
Tajik. He really would murder me.’
Rahim knew my father had a valid point.
‘Well, she is only half Tajik,’ he said, trying to justify his
idea. ‘But it is the half that counts. Her father is Tajik. Her
mother is Pashtun.’ Both men knew that in Afghanistan, it is the
man’s family who are most important.
‘Hear my words! Forget it, Rahim,’ my father
warned.
But Rahim remained so sure the woman was a
perfect match for my father that he kept trying to convince him.
After much persuading, my father eventually told Rahim, ‘OK. I will look at her. But I will not meet her. I will take one
look. One glance only .’ My father knew he could not marry a
woman of the Tajik tribe, yet he didn’t want to cause offense; he
truly disliked racial or ethnic prejudice. He had nothing against
the Tajik, in fact a number of his male friends were Tajik. It was
only because there was such tension between the two tribes that he
simply didn’t feel up to the all-out family war that intermarriage
would lead to. But what harm would one quick look do?
*
Years later, my father would tease my mother,
telling her, ‘I realized that Rahim would never stop praising his
cousin until I had at least taken a look. After one quick glance,
my plan was to make my excuses and leave, claiming that his cousin
was too tall or too short, or too heavy or too skinny.’ My parents
would look at each other with knowing glances, chuckling at what
they both knew.
The two friends had set out to drive to Kabul
to take that one, fated look. Along the way Rahim told his friend,
‘Ajab, I warn you. This cousin of mine is unique. You will be
struck by a bolt of love.’ My father dismissed Rahim with friendly
curses. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to travel the rough road
from the Khail galah to Kabul only to look at a girl impossible for
him to marry.
Upon arrival my father parked his car outside
a school gate and, before he could
few are nomads, making the black goat-hair tent their home.
The Tajiks are the second largest ethnic
group, mainly living in the Panjshir valley north of Kabul, as well
in the north-eastern provinces of Parwan and Badakhshan. Some
Tajikis also farm the land, but many are herders of sheep and
goats.
The Pashtun and Tajik each had their own way
of living, their special cultures defined by an unwritten code.
Geographic factors greatly influenced the preservation of the
diversity between the two tribes. The two groups do not even share
a language, with the Pashtun speaking Pashto, and the Tajik
speaking Dari Persian, or Farsi. While the Pashtun rigidly avoid
contact with the Tajiki people, the Tajikis are more tolerant of
other ethnic groups. Due to their tolerance for diversity and
change, Tajikis tend to become more easily urbanized than do the
Pashtun.
Certainly no tribe was more intolerant than
my father’s clan and the more intolerant a group, the more unified
they become. Pashtun men feel an overwhelming need to dominate and
defend what they know. If any Pashtun suffers harm to his honor, he
will be expected to seek revenge by physical retaliation or by
insisting upon compensation in money or property. Sometimes a
Pashtun man’s code of behavior conflicts with the strict
interpretation of Sharia (Islamic) law. When this happens, a
Pashtun man will often ‘do Pashto’, choosing the tribal way over
the religious code. To a Pashtun man, nothing is more important
than ‘doing Pashto’, regardless of who might be harmed.
My father was a rare man for Afghanistan, who
opposed the ancient tribal codes, perhaps because he had personally
witnessed the terrible hurt such ignorance and inflexibility could
cause. Still, he was not willing to go to war against his brother
just so he could marry a Tajiki woman.
‘Forget it, Rahim,’ my father replied. ‘I
have enough problems as it is. My brother will not even agree for
me to marry an educated Pashtun girl. He would never accept a
Tajik. He really would murder me.’
Rahim knew my father had a valid point.
‘Well, she is only half Tajik,’ he said, trying to justify his
idea. ‘But it is the half that counts. Her father is Tajik. Her
mother is Pashtun.’ Both men knew that in Afghanistan, it is the
man’s family who are most important.
‘Hear my words! Forget it, Rahim,’ my father
warned.
But Rahim remained so sure the woman was a
perfect match for my father that he kept trying to convince him.
After much persuading, my father eventually told Rahim, ‘OK. I will look at her. But I will not meet her. I will take one
look. One glance only .’ My father knew he could not marry a
woman of the Tajik tribe, yet he didn’t want to cause offense; he
truly disliked racial or ethnic prejudice. He had nothing against
the Tajik, in fact a number of his male friends were Tajik. It was
only because there was such tension between the two tribes that he
simply didn’t feel up to the all-out family war that intermarriage
would lead to. But what harm would one quick look do?
*
Years later, my father would tease my mother,
telling her, ‘I realized that Rahim would never stop praising his
cousin until I had at least taken a look. After one quick glance,
my plan was to make my excuses and leave, claiming that his cousin
was too tall or too short, or too heavy or too skinny.’ My parents
would look at each other with knowing glances, chuckling at what
they both knew.
The two friends had set out to drive to Kabul
to take that one, fated look. Along the way Rahim told his friend,
‘Ajab, I warn you. This cousin of mine is unique. You will be
struck by a bolt of love.’ My father dismissed Rahim with friendly
curses. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to travel the rough road
from the Khail galah to Kabul only to look at a girl impossible for
him to marry.
Upon arrival my father parked his car outside
a school gate and, before he could
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