That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
—With silence and tears.
Dedicated to Farkhunda
I’m on the brink of collapsing- excessive fatigue! It’s 134am and I’m exhausted! Been cooking and cleaning all day (my sisters in laws and her fiancé was over for lunch). So glad it’s over!
Daym, first suicide bombing ever- for Algeria. 30 killed. Won't get into that, too tired!
Here's my speech I promised to paste (it was directed to Australians):
Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you today as an Australian afghan. I
am
first generation Australian- born and raised in Western Australia and grew up
in a traditional Afghan family. Torn between two cultures- east and west, I
found it very difficult finding my identity while growing up. Trying to ‘fit
in’
with my traditional afghan family but I was consistently told I’m
too
‘australianised’ that left me in a state of confusion. Gradually, I learnt to
accept
my individuality as being neither a complete afghan nor a true blue
aussie but a
combination of both.
This is my final semester of
university
studies which I am completing externally, undertaking a double
degree. I am in
the process of completing Bachelor of Arts majoring in
Justice Studies and
Bachelor of commerce majoring in business law.I came to
Afghanistan only five
weeks ago with only one goal, ‘give more, take
little’. Since childhood, I
remember my parents longing to return to
Afghanistan. They’d cry when they see
images of Afghanistan on TV. I didn’t
understand what the big deal was. I mean
Australia by far had better living
standards and was blatantly more developed so
that meant that my parents
should be better off in Australia, right? WRONG! I’ll
explain
why.
My father left Afghanistan for America to pursue his
studies at the age of 17, only a year before the Soviet invasion. Mum had
left
Afghanistan 27 years ago. So it seemed like a lifetime for
them.although
Australia is a ‘lucky country’ and is the land of ‘bread and
butter’- it wasn’t
home for my parents. this bond they had for Afghanistan
didn’t make sense to me
until we arrived to Afghanistan in March 07. Dad
knelt and kissed the ground
while mum got teary, i was eager to face many
challenges to come my way- whether
I was prepared was a different matter
altogether.
As you may
already be aware, Kabul is a very small
city- smaller than my hometown, perth!
But the poptulations is more than
double! The cruel war has disadvantaged many
Afghan families, leaving them
in a state of despair and poverty. The Taliban
using Islam, the religion of
peace as a mechanism for war. they killed innocent
civilians. They might not
have killed women and children, but they brutally
tortured them emotionally.
they killed men, who in this patriarchal society play
an integral role in
the family. not only did they kill men they deprived a
family of a father, a
brother, an uncle, a friend, a son, a husband- the list
goes on. As I
prepared my speech this morning, news broke that Ajmal Naqshbandi
who was
held captive by the Taliban has been beheaded. My deepest thoughts and
condolences goes to their families. Sadly, the cruelty of this regime is
evident
in todays society.in fact, it’s right before your eyes in this very
room. These
children are victims of a disadvantaged war.
I was
privileged
enough to visit Hope House only a few weeks ago, it was the day i
became a
witness to the cruel imposition of the Taliban . Children of a
disadvantaged
'war'. An unforgettable experience, almost demoralising.
Meeting sixty deprived
children and a number of widows. Deprived of
emotional, educational and basic
care which every human being
deserves.
From a distance the three storey
sanctuary grew larger and
larger as we drove closer, the middle aged gatekeeper
came out via the side
door to check who we were before allowing entry. His stern
face broke into a
friendly one as a smile spread across his face. Realising who
we were, the
gates opened as our 4WD made it's way inside. Little children stood
and
looked on.I tried smiling, but i couldn't. I was frozen. I kept an eye open
for Kaka Sidiq ( Khola Mahbobas brother) but the children were much too
distracting. The car stopped in the middle of the oval as directed by the
orphanage helpers. Curious to explore, i thoughtlessly stepped out of the
vehicle into a puddle of mud. For the first time, i didn't care. Curiously,
i
followed my family upstairs. Mum began conversing, starting by asking them
what
position they hold in the orphanage. Gradually, it came to light who
they were.
Widows of the disadvantaged Taliban 'war'. One of the widows gave
explicit
details about the brutal death of her husband. The Taliban had
demanded him to
release information about the whereabouts of chief Northern
Alliance leaders
(Ahmad Shah Masood's party). It was obvious to the Taliban
that the man hadn't
information about the party as he wasn't involved. Just
an excuse to beat the
poor man. That's when the torture began. He was hung
by his ankles from the
ceiling and beaten for two hours consecutively.
Finally, he was acquitted. A few
days later he died. Unsure, his wife
presumed it was internal bleeding. Leaving
behind his wife and four
children.I couldn’t take it any more! My eyes became
too wet to see, I
dropped my head and waited for them to finish. Every pair of
eyes in the
room told a dreadful story, a horrific past. yet they continue to
smile,
this was only a fraction of kabuls poor and needy. Some of the children
told
their stories with no emotion. As if losing a parent was alright. Suddenly,
I realised why I was in Kabul. It was for children like them. how could I be
so
selfish and turn away from these faces. my moral conscience would’nt
allow it.
Even if I did go back to Australia, I’d be sure to leave something
behind and
contribute somehitng. A pledge to the poor and needy. I know I’ll
face many
impediments along the way… what doesn’t kill me can only make me
stronger.
There are thousands more in need out there, waiting
to be
given a fair chance. They continue to smile yet in every voice of
every man, in
every infants cry of fear, in every cry of every child. In
ever voice I hear the
culety of war, the unhealed wounds, the pain and
sufferings- hoping and praying
for a day to come.
As for me, my
journey continues… I am a
pessimist when I say one person can do only so
much, but I hope, like Mahboba
and Sidiq rawi to become an inspiration
for others to help developing
nations including Afghanistan. Leave
government policy aside, which in my
opinion isn’t doing much but if every
person can do what Mahboba has done,
accommodate for 60 orphans, the world
would be a better place.
If
it weren't for Australia, I
wouldn't be here today. I appreciate everything
Australia has given me- the
education and the expertise to help Afghanistan. It
would be selfish of me
if I didn't acknowledge that. But Afghanistan is in
desparate need of me, I
don’t want to return without leaving something
behind.
I have one request for you to help the afghan people the Ausralian way and ‘give them a fair go, mate’.
Thank you.
I will write more tomorrow! By the way, I recieved my grade for an assignment- Distinction! Not bad for someone who has no access to uni facilities ay? ;)
Ba omideh khaw, khuda negahdaar.......zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
PS Saw another Tolo Tv presenter today - Masood Ahmadi i think his name is.
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