Read For the Love of a Son: One Afghan Woman's Quest for Her Stolen Child for Free Online

humiliations for the woman
formerly elevated above them all.
    Although he was only a small child, even my
father was not spared. He was ordered to forget play and told that
he must earn his keep. Any time Shair left the galah, my father
Ajab was to climb to the highest point of the stone tower to keep
watch for his older brother’s return. He must stare at the road,
watching for the dust from the horses’ hooves, and as soon as he
saw it he was to run as fast as his little legs would take him down
the stone stairway to the main gate. He was also in charge of
collecting the Khan’s gun and hat.
    The Khan was often away until very late in
the day. My father was too young to stay awake until the early
hours, so on that first night he fell into a deep sleep while on
watch. He was startled awake when his brother Shair pulled him up
by his arms and slapped his face. He warned him, ‘If you ever fall
asleep again, Ajab, your punishment will be severe.’
    After that, my father was terrified of
drifting off to sleep again. As well as the threat posed by his
older brother, there were other dangers for the young child.
Afghanistan has a huge number of venomous snakes, scorpions and
tarantulas, so he spent much of his young life looking out for
those deadly creatures while trying not to fall asleep. Years later
he told me how his great fear would cause him to talk to himself,
or jump up and down, or even pinch his flesh between his little
fingers, anything to keep him awake.
    Shair’s next order was that the family had to
move. The King of Afghanistan had recently presented Shair with a
few hundred acres on the outskirts of Kabul. Shair built a much
larger galah on this land. The basic design followed the model of
his father’s old one, but the interior was much more modern and
built to the standards of an extravagant palace, including every
feature needed for daily life independent of any city or village.
Although the new galah was undeniably luxurious, my grandmother and
her children had lost the familiarity of the only home they knew.
Sadness engulfed the entire family, yet there was worse to come
when further restrictions were placed on Grandmother and her
daughters.
    Although the poor of Afghanistan learned to
satisfy themselves with simple foods like coarse bread and a little
fruit and vegetables, the wealthy were accustomed to delicious
dishes of fowl, mutton, rice and special sweets. The Khail ruling
family ate only the finest foods but Shair ordered that from now on
my grandmother and her children were only allowed enough to keep
them alive. They were permitted tea, but no sugar to put in their
tea. They were allowed bread, but no butter or jam to spread on the
bread. Grandmother’s hungry daughters pleaded for small chunks of
cheese, anything to relieve the monotony of their bland diet, but
their pleas were ignored. When Shair Khan heard of their hunger and
cry for food, he told them, ‘Lick your fingers.’
    My grandmother’s heart shattered when her
hungry young daughters wept, pleading for something sweet. She
dreaded that Shair would do something to separate her from her
children and she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear being far away
from them, unable to offer her love as comfort.
    My grandmother was still in her twenties, a
young woman who remained physically lovely, despite having given
birth to four children and the recent traumas she had had to
endure. Shair called her to appear before him and she shivered in
fear at the anticipation of this meeting, for his loathing for her
seemed to expand with each passing day. When she faced her stepson,
his face was contorted with hatred. His voice full of spite, he
announced, ‘Mayana, an old man far from our galah has offered a
large sum for your dowry. You will be married soon.’
    Grandmother Mayana felt faint. She understood
what such a marriage would mean for her family. Cultural law
demanded that her children remain under the control of Shair Khan
if she