Chapter 43
43. Mariam Upstairs, in Mariam’s room, Zalmai was wound up. He bounced his new rubber basketball around for a while, on the floor, against the walls. Mariam asked him not to, but he knew that she had no authority to exert over him and so he went on bouncing his ball, his eyes holding hers […]
Chapter 42
42. Laila In a paper bag, Aziza packed these things: her flowered shirt and her lone pair of socks, her mismatched wool gloves, an old, pumpkin-colored blanket dotted with stars and comets, a splintered plastic cup, a banana, her set of dice. It was a cool morning in April 2001, shortly before Laila’s twenty-third birthday. […]
Chapter 41
41. Mariam In the summer of 2000, the drought reached its third and worst year. In Helmand, Zabol, Kandahar, villages turned into herds of nomadic communities, always moving, searching for water and green pastures for their livestock. When they found neither, when their goats and sheep and cows died off, they came to Kabul. They […]
Chapter 40
40. Laila FALL 1999 It was Mariam’s idea to dig the hole. One morning, she pointed to a patch of soil behind the toolshed. “We can do it here,” she said. “This is a good spot.” They took turns striking the ground with a spade, then shoveling the loose dirt aside. They hadn’t planned on […]
Chapter 39
39. Mariam SEPTEMBER 1997 This hospital no longer treats women,” the guard barked. He was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down icily on the crowd gathered in front of Malalai Hospital. A loud groan rose from the crowd. “But this is a women’s hospital!” a woman shouted behind Mariam. Cries of approval […]
Chapter 38
38. Laila Laila was glad, when the Taliban went to work, that Babi wasn’t around to witness it. It would have crippled him. Men wielding pickaxes swarmed the dilapidated Kabul Museum and smashed pre-Islamic statues to rubble—that is, those that hadn’t already been looted by the Mujahideen. The university was shut down and its students […]
Chapter 37
37. Mariam SEPTEMBER 1996 Two and a half years later, Mariam awoke on the morning of September 27 to the sounds of shouting and whistling, firecrackers and music. She ran to the living room, found Laila already at the window, Aziza mounted on her shoulders. Laila turned and smiled. “The Taliban are here,” she said. […]
Chapter 36
36. Laila As daylight steadily bleached darkness from the sky that spring morning of 1994, Laila became certain that Rasheed knew. That, any moment now, he would drag her out of bed and ask whether she’d really taken him for such a khar, such a donkey, that he wouldn’t find out. But azan rang out, […]
Chapter 35
35. Mariam From that night on, Mariam and Laila did their chores together. They sat in the kitchen and rolled dough, chopped green onions, minced garlic, offered bits of cucumber to Aziza, who banged spoons nearby and played with carrots. In the yard, Aziza lay in a wicker bassinet, dressed in layers of clothing, a […]
Chapter 34
34. Laila Of all earthly pleasures, Laila’s favorite was lying next to Aziza, her baby’s face so close that she could watch her big pupils dilate and shrink. Laila loved running her finger over Aziza’s pleasing, soft skin, over the dimpled knuckles, the folds of fat at her elbows. Sometimes she lay Aziza down on […]