Someone once said that each child born into a family was like a little flower in a field. From the moment they are born, everything they do is part of their training towards their future.
Yes. That is true. Just as a mother would love to see her son grow up to become a strong man, so would a mother like mine wish for my daughter to grow up and become a strong woman, a woman who would change her country from the inside by taking on a man’s role.
Released from prison in 1972, as required by law. AFGHAN WAIRA - A woman imprisoned by Afghan law for being seen in public, driving her husband to a political rally.
Yes, that’s what she did, my mother. She walked into prison because the president at the time, Daoud Khan, broke the other laws he made for women, and put her behind bars, refusing let her free unless she wore veiling and abaya when she went outside.
I don’t know for sure what happened, I was just a little girl at the time. But her time in prison was hard. She wasn’t allowed to wear any clothes except didar (head scarf) and abaya. Her head had to covered even when she slept, and her entire body covered when she went out in public.
The president said that if anyone noticed her face, they could be caught and punished as well as her. It was as if his own daughters were at risk.
When my mother left prison (that time), they didn't give her much money. She was just a phase full person who had stayed in prison too long.
An amnesty law in the 70s was passed. It ended the sentences of thousands of prisoners.
My mother got out of prison, but she was forced to become a low-paid worker. It looked as if she had hit rock bottom.
That evening, my father came over to see how she was.
She got up and showed a pile of rugs she had woven in prison.
At first, my father didn't know what to do. Then my mother waved her hand and said:
“We will rent a shop and sell these rugs."
They didn't have to rent a shop, because my father had already rented one. They sat down, and worked out what they needed.
So they went shopping.
My father took a bus and got back home carrying all kinds of things.
My mother set up a loom in the shop.
They sat and discussed what they would give their future daughter, not knowing that a girl would be born and be wrapped in nothing but her father's arms.
The beautiful girl was born
Five days later, my mother carried the heavy takhtaar on her shoulders and the baby wrapped in nothing but her father's arms and came home.
We lived in a village at that time, but now all the houses there are gone.
People in the village were poor, but lovely. At noon, people used to sit on the carpet in the street, and talk. The town was small and had a beautiful mosque.
My mother went round with her waiara (a long piece of cloth wrapped round a woman's waist, and covered with a cloth topped by a long scarf) but no one said she was required to cover her hair.
She had tried to wear a head scarf in prison, but the guards had told her in no uncertain terms that they wouldn't allow a woman to have her head uncovered. They had said she could hide her hair under a hat, but her neck and ear had to be free as well.
I had been born, and she was happy.
My mother told my father that my first word was mama, which means 'mother', and he was very strong and happy.
She said:
"You are my strength, my love. You are my everything."
We were a happy family. I was very happy with my father's big family.
We didn't have a mother because of the law, but we were happy. My father never worked for a living. He and his brothers worked for themselves and had trade going with the other village people.
When I was five, I was the brightest in my school. I was a very good student.