Palwasha is the oldest girl in a family of four brothers and one sister. She lives in Kandahar. At the turn of the millennium, she was only eighteen, but her father was a drug addict so she was responsible to care for the eight of them. Because the Taliban ruled the country at that time, she was only allowed to go to school until middle school.
Her main responsibility was to serve the unwanted guests who would show up at their house at any time. A group of five or six ladies would come to their home every other day. As usual, her mother had to welcome and take them to the guest room, which was always prepared for guests. Her younger sister, Rehana, would help her bring tea and other drinks to the guests.
Throughout Kandahar, Palwasha was known as a well-mannered, soft-hearted princess of beauty. The stories of her beauty were discussed everywhere and therefore, many men wanted to marry her. She received many proposals even though she had been engaged to her cousin Javid since she was two.
When Rehana was almost sixteen, her mother wanted to find a suitable husband for her. But the problem was that when Palwasha was in the room, people hardly paid attention to Rehana. Her mother would tell suitors she was already engaged, but they would not listen. They would get angry and comment on their old-fashioned home. Since her father was a drug addict, they could not afford to buy new furnishings.
Her mother was tired of welcoming potential suitors for her. She wanted her to be married soon. But Javid was in Pakistan studying at the university, so she had to wait for three more years.
Even though Javid and Palwasha had not yet met, they loved each other. They were in love with each other’s photos and voices and spent hours talking on the phone. Javid told her: “I will never ever leave you alone; you are mine and will be mine forever.” She was very happy and felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
But her happiness was soon to be shattered. Javid would remain a dream forever and they would never meet.
At the end of 2001, a new government came into power and one of her uncles, Ahmed Khan, became a political leader. This was an honor for her uncle, but also for his tribe. He was very rich and owned many houses and fancy hotels in Kandahar. Ahmed Khan’s elder brother, Wali Khan, who lived in America with his family, came to Afghanistan to help Ahmed Khan with his business. Everyone went to meet him, including her family.
Wali Khan instantly fell in love with her and had to have her for his second wife. He was fifty-five; Palwasha was eighteen. She became a goal for Wali Khan. He knew she was already engaged, but he also knew that her parents were in trouble financially.
“I want Palwasha’s hand. I want to marry her,” he told her parents.
Her parents were shocked. Her mother said, “Palwasha is already engaged to her nephew.”
“Could you not find someone within their family, that you engaged her to a stranger?” Wali Khan asked angrily. Then he tried to make her parents feel guilty for giving her hand to Javid.
Her father stayed silent and her mother seemed thoughtful. She preferred to be silent rather than saying something disrespectful.
Wali Khan was married and had two daughters who were older than Palwasha, but he still fantasized about her as his second wife. An older man marrying a young girl is not an odd tradition in Afghan society. He was a man with desires and wishes. More important, he was a man with power who could easily buy her as his property, which he did.
The next morning, Wali Khan came to their house with several tribal elders, including her uncles. Wali Khan again asked her parents for her hand. However, this time the tribal elders who accompanied Wali Khan also told her parents: “It is against their family and tribal honor to marry their daughters to outsiders. Palwasha is only engaged; she is not yet married. If you accept Wali Khan as her husband, he will solve all of your problems and he will give you as much money as you want.” This time, her father and her uncles agreed because Wali Khan could not only benefit from her family, but also provide employment opportunities to every man in their tribe.
Her mother was unhappy with this decision and said: “They should talk to Palwasha first and also with Javid’s family.”
“Palwasha will be all right and they don’t need to talk to Javid’s family,” her father replied.
She was in the kitchen preparing tea while the devil guests were playing a game of hide and seek with her life. A smile appeared on her lips every time she thought of Javid. She was clueless about the decision being made outside the kitchen. She was unaware that her own family was changing her husband like a fashion. No one ever asked her or Javid what they wanted.
Javid’s family was soon informed. They were sad, but Javid was devastated. He came to Kandahar to protect her, but before he could do anything, he was put in jail and tortured. After three days, he was sent back to Pakistan and warned that if he attempted to come to Kandahar again or meet her family, he would be given a death sentence. They threatened to accuse him of being Taliban or Osama bin Laden’s spy.
Wali Khan was highly arrogant about achieving his sinister goal and it wasn’t long before he came to Palwasha’s house with his family and friends to celebrate his engagement. He brought many expensive gifts, jewelry, clothes and an abundance of fruits. He also brought thousands of dollars. Everyone in the family was happy, except Palwasha and her mother.
The mullah was called to tie their nikah – their marriage ceremony. Everyone stared at her when the mullah asked if she accepted Wali Khan as her husband. She wanted to reject him and to say no, but she couldn’t. Her mother cried, “My sweetheart, I know you are forced to marry Wali Khan but you have to accept him, if only for the sake of your father and family honor.” Palwasha was very lonely and there was no one to protect her or support her decision, not even her mother. She had to sacrifice her desires and dreams for the happiness of her family and tribal honor. The lump in her throat did not let her speak a word and she had to nod with tearful eyes. The bitter tears rolled down her cheeks could melt the heart of stone.
Everyone danced and enjoyed the party and there were plenty of sweets and drinks. After dinner, one by one, the guests left. Wali Khan was now formally Palwasha’s husband. He was allowed to be alone with her in the same room.
Palwasha was sitting in her room, lonely and crying, when suddenly Wali Khan entered. Her body wrenched in fear as she saw the old man with his big belly leering and coming closer to her. He grabbed her hand, but before he could say anything, Palwasha shouted loudly, and ran to the door and escaped. She ran next door to her uncle’s house and locked herself in one of the rooms. Her family came and knocked on her door to find out why she ran, but she would not talk to anyone.
Even though the weather was chilly that night, she felt as if her world was on fire, burning and melting her in bloody tears. She opened the window and sat in the corner on the floor. She looked out the window to the sky and cried for her destiny. She cried for being a powerless woman who is not permitted to make her own decisions. She cried for being a woman who is ordered to do what men want. She cried for being away from her love Javid. She looked at her hands, her fingers, and her palms to search for her destiny line and for Javid’s name between those lines. She looked at the sky, searched for her and Javid’s stars and saw the distance between them. She searched for the moon to cry to her. She searched for Allah to implore and to beg Him for Javid, whom she loved very much. She asked him why she was born to a drug addict father. She felt hopeless, for she found nothing. There was no one to feel her pain and to brush away her tears. That night, everyone was angry with her, perhaps even the sky, the stars and the moon. She spent the whole night looking to the sky crying, crying, and crying until dawn.
Wali Khan spent that night burning in anger in her room at her house. The next morning, he left without informing anyone. In the coming days, he tried many other times to be alone with her before he left for the United States. But she would not be with him.
Following her marriage to Wali Khan, she spent her days and nights lonely and sad in her room. She was not eating or drinking properly. The only thing she did was look at and talk to Javid’s picture. She had sacrificed her happiness for her family and she had lost her love. In a few months, her family settled in a better home because of the continued support of Wali Khan. Her brothers and sister went to school. They got new home furnishings and bought a new car.
When Wali Khan arrived in the United States, his first wife and daughters had been already informed of his engagement to her. They were very angry at him. His wife, who was from a very wealthy and aristocratic family and owned most of Wali Khan’s property, told him that if he married her, she would kick him out of her home. His daughters warned him that they would marry American guys.
Wali Khan could afford to lose his property and his life, but he never wanted his daughters to marry foreigners. He was a well-honored person among his tribe, and his brother was a well-known Afghan leader. Therefore, for his daughters he had to give up.
It was almost one year from the day after Wali Khan left when they received a divorce letter. It was a dreadful, unforgettable day for everyone. Her parents cried and bashed their heads on the walls to penalize themselves. They said they were to blame, embarrassed and regretful for playing with her life and destiny. But now it was too late. She had lost two beaus. She cried: “she was divorced! She was divorced twice!” She pulled her hair. She couldn’t bear having the stain of being divorced since it was considered infamy in the traditional custom of her village.
Things got crazy for her and she felt like she was losing her mind and her health. She spent nearly three months in the hospital suffering from a terrible headache. After she recovered, her family tried to keep her happy, but she did not feel like she could trust them. Palwasha stopped meeting relatives and friends, going out or attending parties. She wanted to avoid people who might feel pity for her or who might talk about her ex-husband. She spent another six months in her locked room asking herself crazy questions like why didn’t she stand up against her family, why didn’t she try to escape, and why didn’t she die before being apart from Javid?
“My identity is hiding somewhere in the kitchen, where destiny told me to be. I don’t know where it is. If you look for it, maybe you could find it. On my father’s favorite plate? In my brother’s soup bowl? On the shelf covered with salt? In the morning, I am the broom eating dust. At 10’clock, it is time to cook the bread in the wood-fired oven. Eleven is time to cook lunch. Then I wash the dishes. After that, the cow calls me: Come on! Milk! Milk! Then back to the kitchen, more cooking and washing…. In my dreams, I see myself big, I go to school, books in my hands. I see a nice office with a computer and my favorite clothes, a pink handbag. But nothing comes true. It is always the same, I am without dreams. There is empty space in my soul. The kitchen is my past and future. I am Afghan woman….”
This poem, which is sung by an Afghan girl, reflects truly the daily activity of many Afghan women and girls. However, Palwasha decides to change her fate despite all the bitter challenges occurred in her life.
One day after her divorce Palwasha’s aunt, who was a teacher and lived in Kabul, came to visit her family. She couldn’t stop crying seeing Palwasha so weak and sad. She wanted to help her.
Her auntie said: “Look, my sweetheart, Palwasha, I know whatever happened to you is wrong and your family is to blame for it, but it does not mean you should end your life over it. You are a young woman and you have a long life ahead of you. Don’t harm yourself by crying and thinking useless thoughts! I want you to be happy and make a future, which I believe is very bright. I want you to get an education and become an independent woman who can help herself and other women in their country.”
She had never thought of going back to school after so many years. She wanted her auntie to keep talking to her. Her words were like ointment healing her wounds, giving her strength to think about the future instead of looking back. She refreshed Palwasha’s dying soul and broken heart.
Palwasha looked at her aunt, hugged her very tightly, and cried with her so deeply. After crying, she felt as if her heart was painless and her sadness and sorrows had disappeared. She replied, “I promise I will not to cry anymore, I will try to forget everything, and I will change my destiny to be the power of education.”
The air was fresh and the birds were chirping the next morning when she walked on their lawn. Her family was pleased to see her outside after such a long time. That morning, she went to school along with her sister. She had high hopes for the future as she walked to school. However, as excited and happy as she was to be going back to school after ten years, she was also concerned about being too old to be a student.
As they arrived at school, Palwasha got scared seeing so many girls walking on the grounds. She wondered if they knew her and if they knew she was divorced twice, if it was written on her forehead. She wanted to run from them and hide.
Her sister Rehana saw her to her classroom; she was afraid as she entered. Palwasha thought she would be called grandma because she was too old to be in the ninth grade, but she was surprised to see girls older, younger, and her age in that classroom. They were survivors of the Taliban and family rules. Their faces clearly described stories full of sorrows, but still they didn’t seem as hopeless as she was. They were struggling to make their future bright. She spent almost four years with the same classmates, laughing, talking and studying together.
She was over twenty-five years old; mature both in age and education, when she graduated from high school. Throughout those years in school, she learned that forced marriage is never allowed by any religion. All religions give equal rights to women and allow them to make their own decisions. Education is the only weapon that empowers women to fight for their rights against the cruelest nation in their society.
Now she is teaching at school. She wants to be an Afghan female leader so that she can support all vulnerable women who are deprived of their equal rights. Palwasha doesn’t want to allow other cruel men like Wali Khan to destroy more lives. She intends to break the unnecessary traditional taboos ruling in her village and many other villages.
The Afghans’ traditional restrictions which are formed in the shape of culture are no more a mystery for the world. The jaw-dropping superstitions and anti-female customs ruling in our villages are mostly contradictory to our religious instructions. However, people respect them as sacred texts and holy tenets of religion. Our religion never considers women inferior rather it highly values the rights and dignity of women. Hope our people stop violating women’s rights and the parents should respect their daughters’ choices regarding their life-partners and realize that living with one who is not loved or even hated under the same roof, under duress, for a whole life is not less painful than a living in a hell. Moreover, trampling upon one’s rights and forcing a girl into marriage is a big sin in our Islamic sharia. Hope such stories may not be repeated in our society anymore.