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and tribal leaders. When he was
forced to abdicate, Afghanistan lost an intelligent reformer who
would have brought much needed change to my country.
    During this year of national turmoil, my
father learned that his mother was dangerously ill with influenza
and so he did something he had never done before. He requested a
private meeting with his brother, the dean. When admitted into
Shair’s office, my father asked, ‘My brother, may I have permission
to visit my mother? I have heard that she is gravely ill.’
    Shair didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no
either. Instead, he brusquely told my father, ‘Return to my office
at the end of the day.’
    My father’s hopes lifted. Perhaps his brother
had changed and would let him go home. However, when he returned to
his brother’s office later that day, Shair was waiting for him and
slapped his face numerous times. He pushed my father to the floor,
shouting, ‘Here is your answer. NO! Did you think you would
receive special treatment because you are my brother? Know
this, Ajab, you are no more important than any other student at
this school. You may not visit your mother until classes are
out.’
    Shair should have been his brother’s
protector, but instead he seemed determined to harm him. My father
was constantly on guard against the next attack, never knowing when
or where his brother might strike. Another more serious incident
occurred a few years later. My father was innocently walking past
his brother’s office one day and, for no reason, Shair rushed from
his office and gave him a violent shove. My father had been at the
top of a long flight of stairs at this point. Caught completely
unawares, he went into freefall, tumbling down head first.
    At that very moment Prince Daoud, a young
member of the royal family, happened to be walking past. A very
surprised Prince Daoud reached out and caught my father, saving him
from injury. Shair pretended he had nothing to do with my father’s
fall, but the prince was aware that something was seriously wrong.
But he was only a young boy himself at the time and without the
power that would come to him later he could nothing against the
powerful Shair Khan.
    While my father was trying to stay out of his
brother’s way, Mayana retreated even further into herself, living
only for her children. Her daughters were growing more beautiful by
the day, and she became anxious about what the future might hold.
In Afghanistan, beautiful girls were married young, and to the
highest dowry bidder.
    Peekai, the eldest, had sky-blue eyes and
dark black hair. Her face was so exquisite and her eyelashes so
long that some of the female servants would gather to watch her
sleep and admire her beauty. Zerlasht, the middle daughter, had
vivid green eyes, with blonde hair. Noor, the youngest daughter,
had blue eyes and light brown hair. All the girls were exotically
beautiful, although Peekai was the most lovely of the three. Word
of her beauty spread throughout the land, stirring the Afghan king
to inquire about her age and a possible engagement, but Shair lied,
telling the king, ‘She is not yet of a marriageable age.’ Shair did
not want one of his hated half-sisters to marry into an influential
family where she might be in a position to help her mother and
siblings against his brutality.
    Years had passed since Shair had threatened
to marry Mayana off. She had almost convinced herself that he had
forgotten all about it when he summoned her once again.
    Shair said, ‘The day has come. Your marriage
has been arranged. Your husband is old, but he is rich enough, and
that is what matters.’
    Burning with determination, Mayana reached
for the poison she still carried in her snuffbox. The moment the
guards and servants realized her intent, they all jumped on her,
attempting to knock the arsenic from her hands. But Mayana was
resolute and she clung to the poison, twisting, shouting, fighting
with all her strength. However, she was finally overpowered