Nadia Hashimi - The Pearl that Broke Its Shell

“How are you two doing?” Hamida said. They looked at us differently now. Yesterday had changed things.

“Fine, thanks. You?” Badriya was curt. It wasn’t helping the situation.

“Still surprised from yesterday. We were hoping to block more of those nominations. But I guess it was their naseeb to get approved.”

Naseeb. Did Sufia really believe that? If she did, why bother voting?

“Maybe so,” Badriya said in agreement.

I searched for something to say that would tell the ladies I was on their side but without riling Badriya’s nerves.

“Sometimes people surprise you, don’t they?” I said. “Maybe something good will come of it.”

“An optimist — there’s something we don’t see often.”

I had no reason to think Qayoumi was anything but the bastard they said he was. I had almost no reason to believe anyone would do anything good, really. My “optimism” was just words, strung together in hopes of making me look neutral. I wanted to be friendly with these women. They were independent and happy, something I’d tasted only as a young boy.

“Sufia and I are going to the resource center this evening. Maybe you would want to join us?”

“Thank you but I can’t,” said Badriya. “I’m going to my cousin’s home tonight. I haven’t seen her in over two years.”

I looked at her, surprised. Was she telling the truth? She spoke up, seeing the look on my face. “My mother’s cousin lives here in Kabul. I haven’t seen them in so long and my aunt is getting older. They’ve insisted that I come by and visit them. They live on the other side of the river, by the women’s hospital.”

“Well, if you ladies are going there tonight then maybe another—”

Badriya looked startled. “Us? Oh, no. I’m going alone. Since it’s my cousin, you know,” she said, fumbling her words as she tried to undo my accompanying her. “And Rahima- jan said she didn’t want to go anyway.”

Eyes on me for confirmation.

“Well, you kept saying they were such nice people. Maybe I should go after all, huh?”

Badriya’s eyes widened. “Really? You want to go? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” she said. Her glare told me the answer she expected.

“No,” I said. “You know what? I think I’ve changed my mind. You should go and see your aunt and cousins. Maybe I’ll go to the resource center instead. It would be great to see what they offer. I wouldn’t mind taking some lessons while we’re here.”

Hamida’s eyes lit up. It was as if she saw me in a new light.

“That’s a great idea! That’s what we’ll do. While Badriya visits her aunt, we’ll go to the resource center. We can go meet directly after the session closes today and then head over to their office. You’ll be ready to go then, right?”

I agreed, satisfied that I’d gotten my way, even if Badriya had gotten hers as well. We parted ways when the session closed and I followed Hamida and Sufia. Badriya had taken Maroof and the guard. I was left with no one, which made me feel more free than alone. We picked up some dinner from the cafeteria and carried the plastic bags with us.

“Do they have these classes all the time? Is it like a school?” I asked. I was getting more and more excited at the thought of returning to a classroom. Even if nothing came from the lessons.

“They have different instructors. Haven’t you heard Sufia speak English? Where do you think she learned to say so nicely, ‘Hello, how are you?’ ” Hamida mimicked cheerfully.

I had no idea what she’d said but I was impressed that they were learning English. Even more than that, I wanted to learn how to use the computers I’d seen in the parliament’s library. The library was a small room in the basement level with three bookcases, two of which were empty. The book collection was sparse but the woman in charge was determined to amass a collection with works on politics, law and history. I thumbed through the books and realized how much there was to learn about government. It was not as simple as raising paddles.

The computers caught my eye. There were three of them but more were coming, we were told. The three were all being used by men whom I recognized from the assembly. I tried not to stare over their shoulders but I wanted to know what they were looking at on those screens. I watched from the corner of my eye as they punched slowly and carefully at the keyboard, piecing letters together in a way I’d never before seen.

The women took me to a small, newly constructed building with small windows and a sign out front in both English and Dari.

Women’s Training Center, it read.

“This is really just for women?” I asked. “The men can’t come here?”

“Absolutely not, just like the hammam. ” Sufia chuckled. “Thank God, someone finally took our involvement seriously. You know, Rahima- jan, international organizations send teachers and computers. All of it is available. We just have to use it.”

“Do many of the women from the parliament come here?”

“Hardly!” Hamida said. “So many of those women have no idea what they’re doing. I had no idea what I was doing either but now it’s my second term and I am just starting to realize how much we still have to learn before this assembly is really functional. We’re like babies, just learning to crawl.”

An image of Jahangir, his knees rough and dark from crawling about, his palms slapping against the floor with excitement. I missed my son.

Sufia must have read my face.

“You have children?”

I nodded. “I have a son.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Almost three years.”

“Hm. You were how old when you married?”

“Thirteen,” I answered quietly, my mind still on my little boy’s face. I wondered what he was doing.

“Your husband must be much older, judging by Badriya’s age,” Hamida said, pausing before she opened the door to the training center.

I nodded. I realized they both were trying not to look as curious as they were.

“Your husband… what does he do?”

I drew a blank. I wasn’t quite certain what he did and I was even less certain how to avoid explaining it.

“I don’t know,” I said. I blushed when I saw the way they looked at me.

“You don’t know? How can you not know?”

“I never asked him.”

“Never asked him? But you live there! You must have some idea what he does.”

This outing was not as innocent as it appeared. They were interested — probably after seeing Badriya’s bizarre voting trend. But talking too much would come back to haunt me.

“He has some land. And he provides security for some foreigners, some people who are trying to build something in our province. I don’t really know the details. I keep out of his business.”

“I see,” Sufia said in a way that made me feel like I had just given everything away.

I needed to stop talking.

“Did Badriya talk to you about the candidates? The people she voted for?” Hamida tried to sound casual.

“No,” I said, reaching for the door. This conversation had to end. “We don’t really discuss the parliament issues. I’m just here to help her with paperwork and reading the documents.”

“Can she not read?”

From the first day, I’d liked these women. I really had. But they were making me very uncomfortable right now, hitting every nerve. I was certain I was going to pay for this later.

“Let’s go in, please. I can’t wait to see what they have inside.”

They relented. I followed them into the center, where an American woman was sitting at a computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She looked up and smiled brightly to see us, the first visitors she’d had all week.