Chapter 35
‘Zemestan khalas shud – winter is finished – fellow Afghans. Spring is with us.’
Naveed sits outside the base hospital at Bagram Airfield, listening to Malalai Farzana on a small hand-crank radio, a gift from Mr Jake. Nasera lies next to him. He reaches down and pats her.
‘Not too much longer,’ he whispers, glancing towards the main doors of the hospital.
He’s waiting for Anoosheh. He’s been waiting quite a while, but is happy to sit there for as long as it takes, knowing that the end result will be well worth it.
‘Let us follow nature’s example,’ Malalai Farzana continues. ‘Let us end our long winter of war. Let us chase it from our land once and for all. Let us replace it with a bright new spring of hope.’
The radio lies in Naveed’s lap. He treasures it dearly and listens to it every night – that is, if his sister hasn’t grabbed it first. He listens through the day, too – that is, if his mother hasn’t taken it.
‘And we can make it happen, brothers and sisters, as long as each of us does our bit. Together we can do it!’
Malalai Farzana is spreading her message of peace and unity and hope. Naveed is sure there are other Afghans doing just the same as him, for she often broadcasts now, and they say her following grows each day.
He has heard her several times now on the little radio, and each time it almost feels as if she’s talking directly to him. Ever since that day with Cousin Akmed on the back of Mr Omaid’s truck, he has felt a powerful personal connection to her words.
Say no to violence. Say no to vengeance and hatred. Seek better ways to solve differences – through talking, not fighting; with words, not weapons.
They were her words that day. He remembers them coming from a radio somewhere, and they have never left his thoughts.
Naveed pulls Nasera closer and gives her a hug. ‘You did your bit that day,’ he tells her. ‘You saved many lives by stopping Akmed. And later, at Mr Kalin’s warehouse. Many lives.’
That discovery was extremely important, Jake later explained to Naveed. A major attack on Bagram Airfield had been planned to take place soon after the riots over the Quran burnings. Salar Khan was to supply the weapons and explosives for the attack from the huge stockpile hidden beneath Mr Kalin’s warehouse. It would have been a disaster for the Americans – a disaster for everyone, in fact. Casualties on both sides would have been enormous, the causes of peace and democracy dealt a fatal blow.
‘Mr Jake says I deserve a medal for that,’ Naveed tells Nasera. ‘But we both know who really deserves a medal, eh?’ He rubs her vigorously all over. ‘You’re the real hero.’
Besides, Naveed has taken away things from that day that are far more important than any medal.
He discovered a personal strength he never realised he had, when he decided to stay with Cousin Akmed. He learned of courage and selflessness, too, when Mr Omaid joined them on the back of the truck. With those two simple acts, something truly important happened to Naveed. Weakness, fear and hopelessness died. Strength, power and courage were born. Naveed saw that he – a boy – could make a difference, that he really did have a part to play in the future of his country.
Naveed also made a true friend that day, in Mr Omaid, someone he not only likes but respects as well. The whole family does. The funny little round man often visits them, bringing treats and laughter. He’s won Anoosheh’s heart with his magic tricks, and made their mother laugh on many occasions. Nasera likes him, too.
And then there’s Pari. Dear Pari. With Salar Khan imprisoned, her nightmare of marriage to the cruel old man was suddenly over. Naveed has seen her often since then, and his heart rejoices at how her face glows again as it once used to.
So much good has come to them, Naveed thinks, since Nasera and Mr Omaid and Mr Jake came into their lives. He feels a wave of warmth for the young Australian – without Mr Jake none of this would have happened. He saw Nasera’s potential and developed it. He organised all the paperwork for Naveed and Nasera to get into the explosive detection course, along with a recommendation from his boss. And he made Anoosheh’s legs happen.
But that’s not all. Over the last few weeks Mr Jake has worked tirelessly on Akmed’s behalf, persuading the Americans that he is not a bad person, just a troubled young man preyed upon by jihadists. Mr Omaid has helped as well; he has gone guarantor for Akmed and promised him work as a truck driver when he is freed. That will not happen for a while yet, but at least Akmed now has hope for a better future.
‘Hey, Navvy.’
Naveed spins around. Mr Jake is jogging up Disney Drive, Stingray at his side. Nasera immediately bounds off. When she reaches the Australian, he hurls two balls into the air and the dogs chase after them. As Naveed laughs at their antics, he hears Malalai Farzana concluding her speech on the radio.
‘It will be a long struggle, fellow Afghans, make no mistake. It will be a long journey. But if we stand together, if we walk as one, if we help each other along the way, we will get there. We will!’
He nods in agreement, turning off the radio just as Jake joins him.
‘Don’t tell me Anoosheh isn’t out yet?’
Naveed throws his hands in the air. ‘Long time waiting, Mr Jake, loooong time waiting.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s women for you, mate. Get used to it,’ he says with a comical grin as he sits down beside Naveed.
That grin makes Naveed want to laugh. But at the same time a shadow of sadness drifts over him. For he knows in his heart that Mr Jake will leave Afghanistan soon; his contract will finish and he will have to go, as most of the foreigners will. Naveed knows that this is how it must be. Malalai Farzana has been telling him so for a long time.
We Afghans must govern ourselves without foreigners holding our hand. It is our only way forward.
Yet all the knowing in the world will never fill the hole left when his friend does eventually go.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jake asks, seeing the sadness in Naveed’s eyes. ‘You okay?’
Naveed lowers his gaze. ‘You good man, Mr Jake,’ he says, fighting back the tears. ‘You most good man.’ He keeps his eyes on the ground, but the tremble in his voice gives him away.
‘Hey, little mate,’ Jake says. ‘What’s with the sadness? You should be happy. This is happy hour.’
Naveed nods vigorously. He wants to tell Mr Jake that you can be happy and sad at the same time, but the words stick in his throat. It doesn’t matter, though, because when he looks up he sees that Mr Jake understands. Naveed smiles back at his friend, but before he can say anything, the hospital doors burst open. His mother comes rushing out.
‘Ayee,’ she cries. ‘Look at my daughter, my beautiful daughter.’
Seconds later Anoosheh appears in the doorway. She steadies herself on the railing for a moment, staring across at Naveed.
‘Look at me, brother,’ she says, her voice trembling.
Naveed cannot do anything else but look at his sister. He cannot take his eyes off her, barely able to believe that the girl standing before him is the same one who entered the hospital that morning. She’s so new and different, so tall and proud.
She wears a new perahan toombon bought especially for this occasion – a blue outfit, the blue of lapis lazuli, with gold trimming on the shirt and trousers. Special shoes provided by Dr Radcliffe poke out from beneath the trousers. Her face glows. Her eyes sparkle. All Naveed can do is gape, sure he will burst with the joy bubbling inside.
Anoosheh lets go of the railing, walks over to her brother and throws her arms around him. They hug silently, words completely out of place.
Their mother joins them, wrapping them in her arms, and in that moment, Naveed knows that his father is there as well. He can feel him, larger than life, folded around them all. And he can hear him.
In every darkness there is light. Always look for the light.
A giant troop carrier thunders down the runway and up into a cloudless blue. Its roar is deafening, but Naveed o
nly hears his father.
The darker it gets, the harder you must seek.
His eyes follow the mighty metal bird as it rises over the Shomali Plain towards the mountains of the Hindu Kush. But his spirits have already risen higher still.
You are right, Padar. The world lives on hope.
Author’s note
More than thirty years ago I spent time in Afghanistan. My wife and I were on a six-month overland trip to Europe through Asia and the Middle East using local transport. I now realise that the seeds for Naveed were in fact planted then. I was spellbound by Afghanistan, its people, its culture and history. I tried to return in the mid-eighties, when travelling alone through Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, but by then the country was embroiled in a fierce war with Russia that lasted a decade, leaving an estimated two million Afghans dead and almost as many disabled. The war didn’t end there, though; like a cancer it grew into another decade, and another.
For me, Afghanistan is a treasure-chest of indelible experiences. Take the Buddhas of Bamiyan, for instance, two huge statues (one 53 metres high, the other 35) carved into cliffs about 230 kilometres north-west of Kabul. On the outskirts of tiny Bamiyan, our truck was stopped by a soldier standing on a raised platform at a roundabout, hand up, blowing a whistle, rifle ready. His uniform was tattered and ill-fitting, he had no shoes, and his firearm was actually made of wood. We were the only vehicle on the road, not even a cart and donkey within cooee. But the little traffic controller double-checked that all was clear before whistling and waving us on. Later that afternoon we sat on top of the Buddhas and stared out over fertile flood plains that stretched forever. We were wrapped in a rich cloak of history, yet I found myself thinking about the little traffic controller who took his job so seriously.
In March 2001 the Taliban destroyed the Buddhas with dynamite. When I saw those ancient statues blown to bits, I wept for the great loss of history and culture in that brutal, mindless moment. But I also wept for the little traffic controller, for I knew that his whole world had been blown to bits as well. That’s what the beast of war does. In part I’ve written this book for people like him, a book which has in fact been brewing in me for years.
Politicians love reminding us that war is about courage and heroism and acts beyond the call of duty. But without diminishing our soldiers’ role in Afghanistan, I knew I had to write about the little people in that war – women and children, widows and orphans, the injured and maimed. I wanted to write as well about those who seek to mend the shattered lives that war spews out – doctors, teachers, aid workers, ordinary men and women – those who try to build something from the rubble and ruin. To me all these little people are in fact huge people. In researching Naveed, I found real rays of hope in the individual stories of men, women and children, real grounds for optimism in the way Afghans are helping Afghans climb out of their nightmare. They are the real heroes of the war in Afghanistan, with stories more uplifting and inspiring than you can ever imagine.
A small but vital example. In researching the subject of Arms and Explosives Search (AES) dogs, I came upon the MDC – the Mine Detection Centre – which operates out of Kabul. Landmines, roadside bombs and IEDs are among the biggest killers in Afghanistan. In the first half of 2012, for instance, almost 1200 Afghan civilians were killed and 2000 wounded by them. The MDC is operated by Afghans, and runs an eighteen-month program that trains dogs and their owners in explosives detection. This program is not just about transforming dogs into highly skilled mine detectors; it’s about helping Afghans make a real difference in a country that is among the top three most mined on the planet.
There is a growing realisation among Afghans that they alone can rebuild their country. And as the West prepares to walk away from the mess it helped create, the importance of that realisation is greater than ever.
‘It will be a long struggle,’ says Malalai Joya, that immensely brave woman, the Voice of the Voiceless. ‘But if we can unite for justice and democracy, our people will be like a flood that no one can stop.’
Only the little people can prove her right.
Timeline
1919 Third Anglo-Afghan War: Kingdom of Afghanistan gains independence from Britain.
1933 King Mohammed Zahir Shah begins four-decade reign.
1950s Afghanistan develops close ties with Soviet Union during Cold War.
1973 Shah overthrown and Democratic Republic of Afghanistan established.
1978 Saur Revolution: People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (PDPA) seizes power in a pro-Soviet communist coup and installs socialist agenda. Islamic militant groups known as Mujaheddin build resistance in country regions.
1979–1989 Soviet War in Afghanistan: PDPA requests support of Soviet Union against Mujaheddin resistance. 100 000 Red Army troops enter Afghanistan. Thousands of refugees flee to Iran and Pakistan.
1989 Soviet troops withdraw. Estimated 2 million Afghan people dead, 1.5 million disabled. Infighting continues as US, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia support Mujaheddin’s attempts to oust communist government.
1989–1992 Afghan Civil War: Soviet-backed government collapses; Peshawar Accord establishes Islamic State of Afghanistan but civil war follows as Islamic warlords vie for control.
1994–1996 Islamic militant group the Taliban seizes control of Kandahar and Kabul and sets up Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan. Enforces law and order through civilian massacres and strict interpretation of Sharia law. Osama bin Laden, leader of international terrorist group al-Qaeda, finances the Taliban and sets up training camps in Afghanistan.
1998 Taliban consolidates control over northern and western Afghanistan. Estimated 4000 civilians executed at Mazar-i-Sharif as Taliban targets Shiite Hazaras.
2001 Ahmad Shah Masood, leader of the Northern Alliance, main opposition to the Taliban, is assassinated by al-Qaeda. On 11 September four US airliners are hijacked and used in terrorist strikes on the World Trade Center and Pentagon. More than 3000 killed.
War in Afghanistan: The US and its allies launch military operations in Afghanistan. Operation Enduring Freedom dismantles al-Qaeda and removes the Taliban, who refuse to hand over Osama bin Laden. Allied forces and the anti-Taliban Northern Alliance recapture major cities and towns. Taliban regime collapses and leaders retreat to remote mountains and Pakistan.
Bonn Agreement: Prominent Afghans meet to re-create the government of Afghanistan. The United Nations Security Council, with the support of the Northern Alliance, installs Hamid Karzai as interim administration head and establishes the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) to oversee security and train Afghan National Army.
2002 Interim government in Kabul is established. Bagram Airfield becomes main base for US forces.
2003 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) assumes leadership of ISAF and deploys first contingent of foreign peacekeepers from 49 countries. Taliban and al-Qaeda regroup to launch renewed ‘jihad’.
2004 Afghans vote in first parliamentary elections in more than thirty years. Hamid Karzai assumes Presidency of Islamic Republic of Afghanistan.
2006–2009 NATO countries pledge to increase military and civilian support to Afghanistan. US troop numbers boosted to almost 100 000. Hamid Karzai sworn in for a second term as president.
2010 NATO agrees to hand control of security to Afghan forces by end of 2014. Insurgent attacks peak at estimated 1500; almost 10 000 people killed.
2011 Battle of Kandahar: Major offensive strike by Taliban. US forces kill Osama bin Laden in Pakistan. US and NATO countries begin to withdraw troops. President Karzai negotiates a ten-year partnership with the US to retain some US troops post 2014.
2012 Violent protests follow burning of copies of the Quran by US soldiers at Bagram Airfield. Estimated thirty people killed and more than 200 wounded.
2013 US continues its training and advisory role as NATO hands over security to estimated 350 000 Afghan forces. ISAF gives control of last 95 districts to Afghan forces. Australia announces withdrawal of t
wo-thirds of its troops by the end of 2013, leaving a small contingent to train the Afghan military in 2014.
Glossary
ajala kon hurry up
Allahu Akbar God is greater
Amrikai an American
aram shoo calm down
azan call to prayer
baradar brother
baradar-e bozorg big brother
barmanu mythical giant creatures said to live in the caves of the Hindu Kush
bebakhshid forgive me; sorry
bukhari heater
burqa traditional costume, covering a woman’s head, face and full body
buzkashi equestrian sport with a goat carcass
chai spiced tea
chapan coat
chapli kebab minced meat and flour served with nan
haram forbidden
hich it’s nothing
loonge turban
jahiliyyah the old ways that existed before Islam
karakul sheepskin hat
khwahesh mikonam you’re welcome
khan the Pashtun title for a village head or a rich, respected person
khoda hafez goodbye
khoda ra shuker thank God!
komak help
korma a lamb stew with onions, sultanas and spices
Kuchis Afghanistan’s nomadic people
madar mother
man hoob hastam I’m fine
mohem nist no problem
muezzin prayer caller
Namaaz e Eshaa the name of the late night prayer
Namaaz e Sohb the name of the morning prayer
Namaaz e Zohr the name of the noon prayer
nan bread
padar father
perahan toombon traditional costume of matching shirt and trousers
qabili palao a dish of baked rice, fried raisins, carrots and nuts
quroot mint and garlic sauce
raka’at ritual movement and words during prayer
salaam alaikum peace be upon you
sug khob good dog
tashakor thank you
Naveed Page 14
