Editor in Chief: Moh. Reza Huwaida Friday, March 29th, 2024

Sorry, My Small Sister!

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Sorry, My Small Sister!

She was playing in the world of her childhood, full of innocence, simplicity and sincerity. Her doll was her only bosom buddy that listened to her patiently. She was baring her soul to her doll, whispering her fantasies in its ear, picking a fight with it in her dream world and holding it back with an apology. She knew nothing about blood, hostility, aggression or evil, and always talked to her doll about her parents’ kindness, sympathy and love. Sometimes her lips touched the doll as a sign of interest as her mother always kissed her with deep motherly love.

She was only three years old and the men’s barbarity never touched her ears. The world seemed to her quiet and peaceful. She treated her co-players as her doll. She could see only the charm and beauty of the life and men seemed to her the incarnation of virtue and humanity. Her tears were the lost resort to impose her will on her parents and friends. She was a child and the world appeared to her childish.

She did not know that she was a girl born in a patriarchal community. She did not know that hundreds of girls are harassed on the streets, tortured in cellars, their nails are pulled out, corrosive gas is sprayed on their faces on the way to schools and their ears and noses are lopped off and killed in cold blood just because of their gender. She had no idea that being born a girl in her community was the unluckiest fate. She could neither realize her mother’s painful emotions nor interpret her bitter tears being shed uncontrollably. When other children, older than her, were talking about wolf, she wished to see one so as to approach and touch it like her doll. Bear meant to her no more than a teddy bear that she was playing with everyday; snake meant one made of plastic which could never produce poison or hurt anyone, dog appeared to her a faithful animal that she saw a cartoon of it on TV and monkey looked a funny animal to her. So, she lived in the world of childhood unaware of all evils.

One day, she was playing with her doll as usual; suddenly three men kidnapped and then raped her in a garden. Perhaps, she would think that her tear may move them as it does other human beings, but the attackers were too fierce to feel a tinge of mercy. Hence, her screams were falling on deaf ears.

She is lying in bed in a hospital holding her doll. Her mother is sitting beside her with tearful eyes and broken hearts. All her mothers’ wishes and dreams were in vain. When she gave birth to her, she was worrying about her daughter’s fate. Her mother knew that being born a girl in the traditional society of Afghanistan is a big risk. She wished good luck to her daughter and hoped to see her, one day, in the white gown of wedding with her favorite person. She prayed that her child may not meet the bitter destiny of Afghan children. Her dream does not seem to be changed into reality.

The child does not know what happened to her; whatever happened changed her world to the worst one. Now, she knows the true meaning of wolf. She believes that wolf is no more a desired animal but a fierce one which has not an iota of mercy. Currently, her world is pitch black and she looks to everyone with mistrust. She even doubts the sympathy of her father. She has terrible nightmares and men seem to her wicked animal that will enjoy hurting people. Whoever walks to her, she fears to be harmed. In her mind, there lies no beauty in men and she only sees the sharp teeth of smiling person which is ready for biting. People seem as sheep in wolf’s clothing. She feels insecure and uncomfortable in the land of devilish creatures. In short, the men’s faces are nauseating for her.

She realizes that someone has harmed her but she is too small to know that her life has been ruined. She still does not know that being raped means losing dignity in her traditional society. She has no idea that being girl is a crime and she was victimized due to her gender. But she remembers that the attackers were her sworn enemies. She remembers that the kissing of the men was not akin to the sympathetic kisses of her mother, but like a poisonous bite of a snake. She is left with great disappointment worrying how to survive among the devilish creatures.

Her little heart is filled with great pain. Now, she has a lot to tell her doll but a lump in her throat does not let her to express. She may give vent to the doll. She is tired with men, perhaps she wishes her doll could listen and speak to her because a lot of questions arise in her mind. This incident will leave a bleeding wound in her heart that may never heal. Hence, her childhood started with bitter experience which may disturb her for the whole life.

I would like to apologize to her with deep sense of guilt, albeit it cannot undo the harm: dear child, I’m awfully sorry to hear you fell victim in this age, but you will grow and become the builder of your nation. You will become a heroine as many girls and women are. Don’t lose your morale, don’t succumb to failure, cross the tortuous path of life with great determination, you are a history maker. Dear child, there are not only devilish creatures but also divine ones – that will honor your dignity and respect your rights. You will change your fate and will save the life and dignity of your fellows. I am sorry my small sister for what was done to you! Hope you will accept the apology of your compatriots and well-wishers.

Hujjatullah Zia is the newly emerging writer of the Daily Outlook Afghanistan. He can be reached at outlookafghanistan@gmail.com

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