Friday, a Bloody Day

(Eds note: Below is both a poem and a news report written about a deadly suicide attack in Farah Province one week before the beginning of the Eid-al-Adha holiday.)

A Poem:

Friday morning
People at the market doing their shopping,
Suddenly a loud noise
Made a difference among people
There were many pieces,
A motorcyclist exploded himself
Did not care about humanity
Killed children and injured women.

Again another suicide-attack
Again innocent children died
Mothers deepen in sorrow
Families won’t be celebrating Eid
Children become fatherless
People, fearful, won’t go to bazaar,
And then the bazaar is almost empty

What is our sin?
Why must innocent children be killed?
Always there is a fear
Mothers don’t allow their children to play
And worry about sending them to school
Lives of Afghans are always at risk
Students do not know if they will make it back home
Mullahs are condemn the suicide-attacks
But there is no one to listen

Why they do it?
Everyone has this question in mind.

_________________________________________________

A New Story:

Friday, November 20, 2009 – A suicide bomber rode his motorcycle into a crowded market area Friday and set off his explosives in an attack apparently aimed at Afghans out doing their morning shopping, killing 17 and wounding 35, officials said.

The attack occurred about 50 yards from the compound of Farah’s governor, Rohul Amin, who is pro-American, but Farah’s police chief said the governor was not the target.

“The suicide-bomber was targeting civilians,” said Col. Mohammed Faqeer Askar. “There was not a police patrol or international forces.” Askar said the nature of the attack showed “the insurgents have become weak and do not have the power to fight face-to-face, so they do this kind of action.”

The attack came on Muslim prayer day, when families traditionally go to the market to get supplies for a shared meal. It also came the day after President Hamid Karzai was inaugurated for a second five-year term.

The attack also comes just a few days after a group of armed gunmen broke into a school in Farah Province and set it afire.

“I was walking and suddenly the bomber exploded,” said one of the injured, Hakmet, who was in the market at the time of the attack. “I did not know what happened, but I know I have pains on my foot and I am in the hospital.”

Ismahel, also injured in the attack, said: “I came out to go to my shop, but I did not know that I would never arrive at my shop. Suddenly I heard a loud noise of an explosion. Then I found myself in the hospital … I still feel afraid.”

“I saw a person on motorbike explode,” said one witness who gave his name as Abdulmalok. “I was far and I did not get injured but I saw many bodies covered with blood. People were frightened.”

One of the injured at the hospital who declined to give his name said he was heading to work when the bomb exploded. “Someone carried me to the hospital and now I will be in bed for many days … my family will face many problems. I don’t know why they did this act.”

The Farah governor condemned the attack, saying it was carried out by people “who do not know what is going in this country. They don’t care about humanity and Islam. They have misunderstood Islam.”

By Seeta

Gunmen Attack, Burn, School

Tuesday, Nov. 17—Armed gunmen broke into a school in Farah Province’s Pusht-e-road District today, holding the guard at gunpoint and setting the building afire, ending for now the education of its 1,200 students, as a sign of growing tension over the future of education in Afghanistan.

Nearby residents criticized as cowardly the burning of the school building as well as desks and chairs. “We condemn this action,” said resident Mohammed. “It not allowed in Islam to destroy the schools and mosques. God won’t forgive the people who did and do this kind of work.”

But as a bright spot, two schools, including one for girls, have opened in recent months in the Zekan village of Anardara and the Hour village of Pusht-e-koh, costing the equivalent of $200,000 USD and paid for by the Farah Provincial Reconstruction Team.

Nawid, a tenth grade student, said the gunmen who burned the school “do not have information about Islam and its principles. As Prophet Mohammad said, learning is essential for all Muslim men and women. So God forbids setting fire to schools where students are going to learn about Islam and the country.”

“It would be better to join in with the reconstruction of Afghanistan instead of destroying it,” said Rahim, 20, a Farah Province resident. “We must work to rebuild our country, not set fire to the schools. I hope the Education Department will respond and rebuild this school very soon, since the students do lose their hopes.”

The head of the Farah Education Department, Atiqullah, said 18 classes were being held at the burned school, and he warned, “It will take time to reopen.”

He also noted the newly constructed schools “fourteen classrooms and have space for 500 students in each village.”

Farah students said they were pleased about the new schools but did express concern about protecting them.

“As an Afghan student, I appreciate those people who built schools for girls and boys in the districts of Farah,” said Fahiam, a tenth grade student at Malaga Miwand Girls’ School. “I also condemn the act of insurgency that burned the school in the Pusht-e-road District.”

About 128 primary schools, 99 middle schools, and 46 high schools for girls and boys are currently open in Farah Province, and about six middle schools were upgraded to high schools in the province this year.

By Seeta

A Line of Fathers

(Eds note: This is a story based on real events and told from the viewpoint of the author’s father.)

When I was a kid, nothing used to bother me more than not having a brother and sister to play with. My father would come home every six months. He was a shepherd and had to take the sheep from one place to another. My father was a very hard worker, kind and enjoyed talking to and helping people. I like his attitudes so much; he was my childhood hero. I was always trying to follow his path. I used to attend school as well as help my dad and mom in the daily work. Life was perfect for me; everything was going all right.

Then I became aware that my father had a very difficult sickness that he and my mom were hiding from me. It was a kind of digestive sickness.

I was about 12 years old when I lost my father. In the last days of his life, I spent a lot of time with him. I prayed to Allah to make my father well. My father assured me he would be fine and there was no need to worry, but from the hidden cries of my mother, I knew that my dad wouldn’t get well. I was very upset and worried. He was the only man in my life. One day my father was talking to my mother about his sickness and how serious it was. They both were crying inside the house, and I was crying outside of the house. I tried not to breathe, so they would not know that I was there. Losing my father brought me so much sorrow; he was my comrade and the hero of all my stories. I could see stamina, valour and manhood in him.

After my father passed away, I could feel changes in myself. I became unsociable. I couldn’t attend school anymore, because I was the only child and I felt responsible for my mother, who was also not well herself. I took care of our animals and our house and most of the responsibilities that my father used to have. I had to fill my father’s space for my mother.

Every day when I took our sheep to eat grass, I had to cross in front of our school. I don’t remember a day that I didn’t cry when I saw my school, my teachers and my friends. It brought back memories from my school times. I missed every minute of school and wished I had it back. It was hard to see my friends going to school and I asked God to give me another chance to be able to attend.

When I got older, I got married, and I’ve tried to educate all my children. I made a large effort to send them all to school because I understood what a big gift education is. I worked more than 12 hours a day to afford to send my children to school.

I tried to be the example for my children that my father was for me. I have seven daughters and two sons. I am happy with my life, because I nurtured them like a lion. My children are educated and they are a big help to me. Now I am happy that my daughters and sons can help my country and its future in a way they think is the best for all the Afghans, and I am happy to be in the row of fathers who tried to help out their children.

By Fatima

The Sun Prepares Good Landai

(Eds Note: Landai is a specially prepared dried meat, and is a traditional Afghan food)

One autumn day when the air was filled
With wood smoke, when the sun

Twinkled from behind blown clouds
When the wind puffed up the trees, we asked our mom

“Could you prepare landai for the winter?”
“Yes,” she said, “but you must help me.”

We all promised to help, my sisters and I.
Our parents brought a beautiful plump sheep.

The butcher slaughtered the woolly brown sheep
Hung it in a tree to remove its intestines

He cut the meat in one big piece
Separated its liver, its kidney

Mom prepared the meat, sprinkled salt over it
The kitchen air filled with the meat’s scent

The copper smell of raw meat and the waxy scent of fat
Worked their way through ever corner of the kitchen

Whenever mom prepares landai and boils turnips
The turnips I eat smell of the earth
Reminding us of snowy winter days

My mother put the meat with salt in a big basin for half day
Then she drew the water off to ready it for hanging
Put it under the sun’s rays
Until all the water evaporated, leaving the husk of the sheep

The sun prepares good landai
We were happy that day
Knowing we would have dried meat
On winter days

By Freshta

A Poem To The Government

Afghans suffers pain, trial, labor, grief, sorrow, tragedy.
Now the president needs to serve them
Serve for people, serve those who need

Serve for those who have lost their families, loved ones who live only in memory.
Serve for those who have lost their parents, who had dignity but are now called orphans.
Serve for orphans who hide their face with their hands and hear the slap of tongues when they say thanks.
Serve for orphans who watch other parents caress their children
Tears come from their eyes as thunder appears in the sky.
Tears of hopelessness, discouragement, depression.
Serve for people, serve for those who need

Serve for the mother who lost her sons, now passing her life with memories
Her tears are her best friends; she shares her pains and complaints with them.
Serve for those women who lost their husbands in war, suicide attackers who were supporting them and were as the ceiling of their home.
Now their home is without a ceiling and has no support—what will happen to their lives? Who will care for them?
Serve for those women and men who are addicted, don’t have money and, in order to buy drugs, do illegal actions.
Serve for people, serve for those who need

Serve for your country, which has many wounds
These wounds have become a cancer
Find the way to calm these wounds.
Serve for your country, which is losing its sight
Bring light by building schools all over the country for male and female
And pave the way for higher educations abroad, to avoid having to wear eyeglasses
Because if some of our young graduate from university, it is like our country has a little power of sight
But to be educated in developing countries is to find the self-confidence to see completely.
Serve for those women who were exchanged for animals, whose families trampled their rights.
Serve for people, serve for those who need

Serve for those children who leave school to sell gum or water, polish shoes, and wash cars to support their family.
Serve for those children who wash cars in cold weather without warm clothes, Coughing, bending their pants and sleeves so their knees and elbows stay dry
They don’t have hot water but continue washing the car to find 40 Afs for their efforts
Not enough, especially when there is a storm.
Serve for those children who never ask for nice, clean clothes as others have
Never ask for the good food they need, never ask their parents to carry them,
But are supporting their families.
Serve for people, serve for those who need

Serve for Afghan people
Half of them have psychological problems,
Worrying about kidnapping, human trafficking, suicide attackers, poverty and more.
Serve for those with tears in their eyes, wounds on their body, grief in their hearts
But who close their mouths and cry in silence
As the cloudy sky roars with little rain.

Serve for people, serve for those who need.

By Freshta