Nadia Hashimi - The Pearl that Broke Its Shell

“Arif- jan, I’ve come here today to discuss an important and honorable matter with you. For that reason, I have brought my elders with me, as well as a few members of my family whom you have met before. I’m sure you recognize my uncle’s sons, my father and my uncle. You have fought with me for years and I respect you for that. From one man to another, we both know that there are traditions in our culture.”

“You honor me with your visit, sahib, and I have been proud to fight under your leadership. We’ve done great things for our people thanks to you.” I’d never heard Padar- jan speak in such a way with anyone. Abdul Khaliq unnerved him. “And I am honored to have your family in my humble home. Dearest uncles, I appreciate you traveling this far to be our guests.”

The men nodded, acknowledging my father’s platitudes. Abdul Khaliq’s father cleared his throat and began to speak. His voice was raspy and he had a light lisp.

“My son speaks highly of you, and of course, your family is well respected in this town. I’ve known your father for many years, Arif- jan . He is a good man. That is why I’m sure we will see eye to eye on this matter as well. As you know, my son is a man who takes pride in meeting his duties as a Muslim. And one of the duties that Allah has outlined for us is to build families and to provide for women and children.”

I could feel my heart pounding. Madar- jan stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder and the other covering her mouth, as if she thought she might let out a scream otherwise.

“Of course, dear uncle…” Padar’s voice trailed off; he was unsure what to say. Abdul Khaliq began to speak.

“And you came to me recently talking of your concerns. That you have young women at home and not enough money with which to provide for them. I have been thinking about your situation and am here to offer a solution.”

Abdul Khaliq’s father gave him a look. Let me do the talking, his eyes said.

“We must often think of what is in everyone’s best interests. In this case, you have a young woman whom my son would like to honor as his wife. Our family is large and well respected, as you know. Your daughter would do well to join our family and a union between us would be cause for celebration. Of course, as a result, you would be better able to provide for your family as well.”

“My daughter?”

“Yes. If you give it some thought, I’m sure you’ll see it’s the wisest choice.”

“But my eldest is—”

“We are not here for your eldest daughter, Arif- jan . I’m speaking of your middle daughter. The bacha posh . My son has expressed an interest in her.”

“The bacha posh …”

“Yes. And do not be surprised. You have kept her as bacha posh beyond what anyone should accept. You are breaking tradition.”

I turned around and looked at my mother, my face drained of color. Padar was silent. I knew he was wondering how Abdul Khaliq knew about me but word had way of traveling. I remembered the day in the bazaar, the way Abdul Khaliq had looked at me and the way he had smirked and nodded when the man next to him leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

My mother’s fingers tightened as she wrapped her arms around me. She was shaking her head, willing her husband to refuse this man and praying he could do so in a way that wouldn’t offend him or his guns.

“With all due respect, sir… it’s just that… well, she is a bacha posh … but I have two other daughters older than her. And as you said, we are people of tradition and usually the younger daughters are not given until the eldest… I just don’t think…”

There was a long pause before Abdul Khaliq’s father began to speak again, slowly and deliberately.

“You are right. It would be improper to give your middle daughter’s hand without the other two being wed as well.”

For a second I could breathe. But it was only a second.

“But this can be easily arranged. My cousins are here, Abdul Sharif and his brother Abdul Haidar. They are looking for wives as well. We can arrange for each of them to take one of your daughters. They are strong men, able-bodied, and will provide well for your girls, who are now young women and should not be kept idle at home. Let these men bring honor to your home and ease your troubles.”

“Abdul Khaliq, dear uncles, you know I hold you in the highest regard, but… but this is a matter… well, tradition dictates that I should consult my family, as you have done. I cannot make such decisions without the presence of my father and our gray-haired family members.”

Abdul Khaliq’s father nodded in understanding.

“Reasonable. This is not a problem. We shall return in one week’s time. Kindly arrange to have your father and your elders here so that we may meet with them.”

It may have sounded like a request but Padar- jan knew it was more of a command. They would not take no for an answer.

As soon as the last man was out the door, Madar- jan ran up to my father.

“Arif, what are you going to do? The girls are so young!”

“It’s none of your business what I’m going to do! They’re my daughters and I’ll do what’s right for them. It’s not as if you’re capable of doing anything.”

“Arif, please, Rahim’s only thirteen!”

“And he’s right! She shouldn’t be a bacha posh any longer! She’s a young woman and it’s shameful to have her out on the streets and working with Agha Barakzai at this age. You’ve given no thought to her decency, have you? Do you know how this looks for my family’s name?”

Madar- jan bit her tongue. If only my father knew…

“You think you can come up with a better plan for this family? There is no money, Raisa! You’re thinking of nothing but yourself. And you’ve seen what happens to girls who stay in their fathers’ homes for too long. There is talk about them. There is scandal. Or worse! What will you do if some bandits come and take your daughters by force? This man, this family, they can provide for your daughters! They can give your daughters a respectable life!”

Madar- jan searched for a way to argue back. But a lot of what her husband said was true. She was barely able to feed us with what he provided. Padar- jan ’s brothers were in no better a situation, not to mention the two widows and their children.

“Maybe I can ask my sister, Shaima, to be here when they return. She could reason with them.”

“ Khanum, if your insolent sister dares step foot in this house on that day, I swear to you I’ll cut her tongue out and send her hunched back rolling down the street!”

Madar- jan shuddered to hear him talk about Khala Shaima in that way.

“Abdul Khaliq is a powerful man and he’s in a position to improve our family’s lot. This is a matter I’ll discuss with my father. You should concern yourself only with fixing what you’ve done. It’s time to undo Rahim.”

There was nothing more my mother could say to him. He’d been intimidated by Abdul Khaliq, and from what we’d overheard, it sounded like my father had planted the idea in Abdul Khaliq’s mind. I thought back to what Shahla had told me about their fight.

He wants this, I realized. My father wants to marry us off.

The thought sent a chill down my spine. I realized what my mother knew as well. Men could do what they wanted with women. There would be no stopping what Padar had set in motion.

King Habibullah had taken the throne in 1901, just as Shekiba turned eleven years old. This was two years before the cholera epidemic that claimed her family and half her village. That was all she knew about the man. She was a girl from a small village and knew nothing of the palace or life in the capital of Kabul.