The Favored Daughter (34 page)

With all the roles in place, the parliament opened for business. This was another truly historic event, and it was broadcast on live TV both in Afghanistan and around the world. As the speaker was not present, I had to chair the first plenary session. I looked around and once again realized that here I was chairing a parliament in which former presidents, ministers, and mujahideen leaders were all sitting. But I wasn't nervous. Debating is one of the things I enjoy most in life, so to have the chance of chairing such an important debate was wonderful. I simply loved it.

That day went very well, and afterwards a number of male MPs commented on how surprised they had been that a woman had managed the task of keeping order so well. They too now recognized what an important symbol this was for Afghan women and for the nation.

But very soon the jealousy started. Some of the old MPs, the corrupt ones, are losing power and public support day by day. And they know it. These oldstyle politicians who use guns and intimidation as their means of communication could not stomach the fact that a young woman like me was growing in political popularity and influence. When I would walk past them in the corridors or step down from the podium, I would hear them muttering, “A woman is chairing our parliament and we must just sit here and watch? She cannot be allowed to continue.”

I tried to ignore them and started focusing on providing the services that voters had wanted when they elected me. The Kabul-Faizabad road, for example, was still a dirt track with no asphalt. I started to lobby for funds to build a proper highway that would for the first time link Badakhshan with the capital city. On a political visit to the United States, I met President George W. Bush and his wife, Laura. I found Laura to be a very pleasant, warm woman and I liked her immensely. She seemed genuinely committed to civil issues—children's rights, education for women, school-building projects, human rights. I got the sense that as a mother herself she understood the plight of women and children in developing countries. She asked me many intelligent questions about the situation in my country and listened carefully as I outlined what I thought she and the United States could do to help. I felt encouraged by her support.

I also used my time in the United States to try to gain wider support for construction of the road. The US ambassador told me he couldn't make me any promises, but that my request had been noted. Four months later, I learned that the US Agency for International Development had approved the budget for the road. I was thrilled.

The road is now complete and it has improved the lot of Badakhshanis immeasurably. What was once a three-day journey to Kabul now takes less than a day. The road takes in some wonderful scenery, and I think it's the most beautiful in all Afghanistan. Some Badakhshanis have nicknamed it “Fawzia's road.” The road on the other side of the Atanga Pass is still not complete, despite my best efforts. But I will not rest until this road is also built. I feel I owe it to my father to complete the dream that he so bravely started.

In recent years, I have met several other famous international politicians, including Tony Blair, Gordon Brown, and David Cameron, the previous and current prime ministers of the United Kingdom. I met Hillary Clinton twice. I find her an incredibly inspiring woman who has a definite grace and power about her. I also met Stephen Harper, the Canadian prime minister, and Peter MacKay, the Canadian defense minister.

I have yet to meet President Obama, but I hope I shall. Afghans followed his campaign and subsequent election very closely, and he became a very popular figure here. There was something very inspiring to us about his journey to become the first black president of the United States. Many Afghans also regarded him as someone who would favor negotiation over war and who had a very strong understanding of foreign policy and global issues.

As the years have passed, I have made some very good friends and allies at the international level, among the fraternity of diplomats and among aid workers and journalists. I believe we all have something to learn from each other and that cooperation between nations is essential. For too long, Afghanistan has allowed itself to be a pawn that is moved and shifted by the hands of more powerful players. I believe that Afghanistan can and will one day take its rightful role as a power player within the Asian region. As a nation, we need to learn to work more strategically with our allies and stand up to our enemies.

We don't have to be a nation that the world either fears as terrorists or pities as victims. We are a great people and we can be a great nation. Achieving this for my country is my life's ambition. I'm not certain what God's purpose is for me, only that he has one. It may be that he has chosen me to lead my country out of the abyss of corruption and poverty or simply that he wants me to be a hard-working MP and a good mother who will raise two shining stars as daughters.

Whatever the future holds for me and my nation, I know that God alone wills it.

 

TWENTY

A DREAM FOR A WAR-TORN NATION

Let me share with you a memory.

Two years ago I went to one of the villages in Badakhshan in order to hear the problems of the people and to find out what I could do to help them. On the way the weather became dark and we had to spend the night in one of the houses in the village. The family that we spent the night with was one of the richest families of what was a very poor village. The house owner guided us toward his home, and the young people of the village had lined up on the both sides of the road to welcome us. After greeting them we went on toward our host's house.

A beautiful young woman, about 30 years old, wearing ragged clothes and a red scarf came out of the house to welcome us. I greeted the woman and she bent to kiss my hands. I was embarrassed. I did not expect the young and beautiful woman to respect me in that way. I hadn't done anything for this woman or for her village, so I didn't allow her to kiss my hands. The woman, who seemed unhappy and worried, invited us into the living room. The room was small and dark. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did I noticed she was heavily pregnant.

The woman brought us green tea, dried mulberries, and walnuts. I asked her how many children she had. She replied that she had five children and was now seven months pregnant.

I was worried about the woman because she did not look right. She left the room again and came back with a big plate of sweet Afghan rice pudding that she had made for us. She spread out a cloth and then put the big wooden bowl of rice on it.

Dinner was a good time for me to try and engage her in conversation in order to get more information. I started by talking about the weather. I said: “It's summer but your village is high in the mountains and the weather still feels cold; in winter it must be very cold here.” The shy woman replied: “Yes, in winter we have a lot of snow, we can't even get out of the house it snows so heavily.” I asked her: “How do you work then? Is someone helping you with the house work?”

She replied: “No one helps me. I wake up at four in the morning. I clear the snow until the doors of the stable are accessible, then I feed the cows and other animals. After that I prepare dough and bake bread in the tandoor oven. Then I clean the house.”

“But you are heavily pregnant,” I said. “Do you still do all this on your own even when pregnant?”

“Yes,” she replied. She seemed surprised that I was surprised by her answer.

I told her I didn't think she looked well and that I was worried about her. She told me she felt very ill: “I work all day and at night I cannot move because I am in so much pain.”

I asked her why she didn't see a doctor. She told me that it wasn't possible because the hospital was far away.

I told her that I would talk to her husband on her behalf and tell him he must take her.

She replied: “If my husband takes me to the hospital then we would have to sell a goat or a sheep in order to pay for my treatment. He would never agree to that. On top of that, how would we get there? The hospital is three days walking and we don't have a donkey or horse.”

I told her that her life should be more important than a goat or a sheep. If she is healthy she can take care of the whole family, but if she is sick then she can't look after anyone.

She shook her head and smiled a slow, wistful smile of sadness: “If I die then my husband will marry somebody else, but the whole family is fed by the milk of the goats and the meat from the sheep. If we lose a goat or sheep then who will feed this family? From where will this family get food then?”

I HAVE NEVER FORGOTTEN this poor woman. And I doubt she is alive today. Her multiple pregnancies, her poor diet, her exhaustion, her lack of access to a doctor. Any one of these things could have killed her.

There are hundreds of thousands of women like her across Afghanistan.

Her attitude was typical of many. The typical Afghan woman does not fear death and wants to keep her family happy and satisfied at any cost.

Brave and kind, she is ready to sacrifice herself for the sake of others, but what does she get in return? Normally very little. And a husband who puts the cost of a goat or a sheep above his wife's life.

When I remember this woman, tears come to my eyes and I feel more compelled than ever to help all those others like her.

I have a dream that one day all the humans in Afghanistan will have equal rights. Afghan girls have talent, skill, and the capacity to be educated. They should be given every opportunity to be educated and literate, and to participate fully in the political and social future of the country.

I dream that the culture of ethnic division disappears in Afghanistan. I hope also that the Islamic values that have shaped our history and our culture are kept safe from false and wrong interpretations.

The Afghan people are the main victims of terrorism worldwide, but Afghanistan is also known to the world as the main producer of terrorists. I hope that with active diplomacy and good representation we will be able to change this understanding.

Afghanistan is traditionally a poor country but we have great resources. I hope our untapped mineral wealth can be used to combat poverty and give our country importance.

Afghanistan as a nation has witnessed great struggles. We have never accepted invasion nor been colonized or conquered. That is something we Afghans are proud of. We are warriors by nature. But this does not mean that the doors of globalization and global opportunities and cooperation should be closed for Afghanistan.

I dream that one day Afghanistan will be a nation free from the shackles of poverty. I dream it will no longer be labeled the worst place in the world for a woman or a child to be born.

Since 2001 and the fall of the Taliban billions of dollars of aid money have been spent in Afghanistan. I am grateful for every penny of it, but unfortunately much of it has been wasted or misdirected, or fell into the wrong hands, such as those of corrupt local politicians or American contracting companies who took great profits but built poor quality roads and new hospitals without proper plumbing.

Despite their good intentions some of the decisions taken by the United Nations and the international community have proved only mixed successes. At a meeting in Geneva in 2002 it was decided that the United States would train the newly formed Afghan National Army, Germany would be responsible for the police, Italy would look after the justice system, Britain would take counter narcotics, and Japan would focus on disarming illegal groups. This so-called Five Pillar approach had at its heart the issue of security, yet almost ten years after Operation Enduring Freedom began Afghanistan is still far from stable.

A large part of the problem is that for far too long Afghanistan's leaders have acted like the country is theirs to do with as they please. They forget that there's a whole nation of people living here—real people, good people, with families and businesses and children and dreams for their future. Instead Afghanistan has been run like the personal fiefdom of a few powerful men. Their agenda has generally been entirely selfish.

In the case of the Soviets, Afghanistan was as a stepping stone in their ambitions for empire, as they jealously eyed Pakistan's warm-water ports. Afghanistan lay in the way, and as such was largely an inconvenience to be subjugated as part of a greater game.