It is about three in the afternoon. Today is Thursday, the 28th of Hoot, March 19th 2013. After some minutes all the men around the Shah-e-Do Shamshira Masque rush toward on spot. The Mullahs are screaming to curse horrifically on Farkhonda since she has done ‘wrong” by incinerating the Quran. The numbers of the men to batter Farkhonda are increasing. They do not refrain anything to hit her anywhere that it takes. Stones, sticks and anything next to their feet fly over Farkhonda’s head. Finally, Farkhonda inspirited under the fist and kicks of her compatriots. But the story doesn’t end here. Despite dying because of her compatriots battering, she is now mashed under the car’s tires by the men of her territories then incinerated in the drying river of Kabul. After that day, no women dared to walk around Shah-e-Do Shamshira Mosque. It is cursed now.
It does not last here, the story of brutal incidents done to women by men. Some days later, after that irritant incident, another event has shuddered all the Afghan women’s body again. This time the news is about the decapitation of a nine years old girl. Shukriya, one of the 31 hijacked travelers in autobahn of Kabul-Kandahar. After sometimes, 19 people out of 31 were freed; but unfortunately, Shukriya was among the remainder hostages. Shukriya was traveling with her father and mother, and was hijacked by Daesh (the ISIS) and finally after some days, they beheaded the two women, included Shukriya. Among all, one child and four men hijacked by Daesh were sent to Kabul.
It is about the time that the city keeps talking about Farkhonda and Shukriya. The weather gets darker and the silence of the night is commanding on the city that the sound of explosion shakes my body. The echoes of the explosion seem to be too near. But it does not matter anymore to me. I wonder if I don’t hear these sounds two to three times in a month. The next day, the news comes: “some journalists of the TOLO TV were in the car, going back to their homes from workhouse, have been bombed in Darulaman Road. Taliban have accepted that it was their plan.” Most of them were educated young people, who were their home’s breadwinners. Among these people there were some women too. Could I be one of them someday?
There are lots of these stories in Afghanistan. Not too old, not to new, right in the present playing with the lives of individuals. Not only Farkhonda and Shokriya were in these stories, but also there is Marzia’s story. Marzia was acting like a corpse, perhaps thought she was dead, for more than seven hours under the fire and explosions in the American University of Afghanistan. All of these stories pass and only assign some days in calendar. Learning from those stories not to become victims of cremation, stoning, beheading and trapped into death, like Farkhonda, Shokriya, and Marzia and so many other women’s stories of my territories, I still hope to be part of a change in my country. Similar to the great Martin Luther King, I also have a dream that one day I walk on the streets of Kabul free of any fear of dangers around me. I have a dream that one day I can run beside and with the boys of my county. I have a dream that one day I work as a journalist without the fear of bomb explosions. I have a dream that one day the words like “I am a woman and cannot do that and this,” or that “I am man and must do that and this” do not exist anymore and just the words “for the sake of humans” become a common language. I have a dream that one day I can breath the air of freedom and help other children get the best education. And I have a dream that women dreaming in Afghanistan do not fear men. I have a dream…