Afghan Women's Writing Project

Whether at the bus, paying for a ride, at the café taking out my lunch card or at the gate looking for my ID, every time I open my small brownish wallet, my eyes move towards the bill at the corner. It is a Ten Afghani bill, old and torn. The color, meant to be a mix of bright tan and emerald green, now is faded green on dusty paper. The sight of this bill is so much like Afghanistan. After the fall of the Taliban, it was meant to be colored white for peace, gray for equality and red for freedom. As the years pass, it is colored with black for corruption, black for injustice and black for inequality.

I still remember that sunny July day outside the Kabul Airport as I waited for my flight to Kazakhstan that would then take me to the USA.  I felt as if I had wings and could fly myself. I believed right then that every dream I ever had was coming true. My world was changing, and I knew it. I sat close to my mother, holding her arm, with my head on her shoulder. My eyes gazed downward and I was lost in my dreams when a knock on the window next to me grabbed my attention.

A woman, probably in her late twenties, was looking at me. She wore a blue burqa , stained and full of holes. I noticed her eyelashes lower as she raised one hand towards my mother and me, asking for money. In her other hand, she held a child, probably her son, around 3 years of age. The little boy frowned and squinted in the bright sun while chewing on a piece of bread. It was clearly a hard, dry piece, as the boy forcefully moved his head backward while taking a bite.

I was suddenly ashamed of my daydreams at a time when millions of my sisters have become beggars or prostitutes to provide for their families. My mother gave the young woman a twenty Afghani bill and asked for a ten in change.  The woman took the money, placed it under her burqa, probably putting it in her bra, and raised her hand to give the change to my mother. I took the bill instead and put it in my wallet.

I have a question for Mr. Karzai, the man who represents Afghanistan as its president. He recently said that the U.N.’s presence or lack of presence would not make much of a difference in the lives of Afghans. Mr. Karzai: Do you know how the common Afghan man and woman live? Every time I look at my dusty bill, I see the true face of Afghanistan. I am reminded that I have left behind hungry, homeless and hopeless Afghan people towards whom I have a responsibility.

By Meena