On this page, we take the voices of the four main characters from this book and talk about their experiences from their points of view.
Rasheed-by Cole Crump
What does it mean to be a man? A man must be strong, independent, strong willed, and must care for his family. It is also his duty to assert himself as the higher of the sexes. Is it a woman's job to work? To show her face on the street? To have guests over? No. Women of old wore burqas. They stayed home with the kids. They prepared meals, and cleaned the house. The jobs that men do are not a woman's, and the jobs of women aren't to be done by men. We are a strong people not to be governed by women.
But what if the women aren't doing as they're supposed to be? Disobeying the men? Defiling our authority? We have to assert ourselves. We have to remain the higher sex. We have to put them in their rightful place, even if they don't learn their lesson and we have to go through this process again. We have to remain they way we once were.
The world is a changing place. Hell, Kabul is a changing place. Women are beginning to gain more power. That woman from down the street, Fariba, she's an example. She's bossing her husband around. Yelling at him. And worst of all, he lets her. He lets a woman treat him as no woman should. I don't even know why he calls himself a man. If my wives act up, it's my duty to put them in their place, not the other way around. It's a man's world, and I intend to keep it that way.
Mariam-by Sierra Johnson-Golding
I have tried and failed to be what people have wanted me to be. Every time I have looked for something better and tried to meet what I thought were someone’s expectations I have been beat. Some of those times with the belt my husband carried. I at one point in my life had given up all hope. I become nothing to fill the expectations of the people around me. I did exactly as I was told I carried my life from room to room of my husband’s house feeling the penance for not be able to carry my husband’s children of not preventing my own mother from taking her life of not being able to be enough. Soon enough though my husband walked through the door with a new wife that I thought at the time was my new worst enemy but she taught to me something that made all of it seem worth it. She gave me hope through an unconditional love that I had never before understood or received.
One night after Aziza, Laila’s new daughter, had been born I was walked into the kitchen late at night which usually I would avoid if Laila was there but she had fallen asleep in the doorway with the baby tucked up against her. I saw the baby was wide awake and as she started to squeal I thought better of letting Laila wake up to that and the baby with her slow and awkward movements grabbed my finger as if I was the only person she wanted there. This taught me what it meant to love and even more so what it meant to be a mother. This unconditional love brought life back to the dismal place that we called home.
I was given the hope and unconditional love to help carry this burden of guilt I have carried with me my whole life including some that is not even my own. I die with an understanding in my heart for those that loved me in their life and a peace because I am fulfilling the ultimate sacrifice of the unconditional love that saved me. I came into this world as a harami that no part of my weak family system or another could pretend they wanted to hold as they gave me to whoever would take me. “(I) thought of my entry into this world, the harami the lowly villager, an unintended thing. A weed. (I) was leaving the world as a woman who had loved and been loved back. (II was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. A mother. A person of consequence at last.” I believe that it was love that brought me here and I have made the ultimate sacrifice for it.
Tariq-by Pat Min
In jail, you know, it was the closest thing to eternal struggle that I've ever gone through. But compared to what my wife, whom I foolishly deserted when we were only teenagers, went through, my experience was not nearly as horrific. But even then, I had to focus on the moment at hand. If I didn't, who knows, I wouldn't be here and my mother would be long gone as well. As much as it killed me to hold “a shard of glass to" that kid's "throat and" take "his blanket,” getting that blanket for my mother was one of the best decisions I made. Of course I felt bad about it. He might have died from it, which is the worst thing a person can see. Laila saw her evil husband being killed, which is a rare exception to my previous statement.
When I make choices, I subconsciously rate them in how important they are. Unfortunately, neither Laila, Allah bless her, nor myself weighed the magnitude of how much we really loved (and still do love) each other. If I could relive that truly hard decision, I know I would have gladly risked my life by staying in Afghanistan and getting shot 1000 times by the Taliban, rather than go for 10 years without her. Of course, I’m so grateful that she was able to get out from that dead monster’s lair, whom I was “not afraid of...you know.” I am afraid that I won’t get the scars of his abuse out of Laila’s memory, however. Prison was far from fun, but even though the conditions there were bad, I still had hundreds if not thousands of other people to rely on. My wife had two little children, and Mariam, of course, who played an instrumental role in keeping her safe. Besides them, she only had the four walls of that dark house.
I’m a janitor now, and just like my job, I have to clean up after the past by treating my wife and kids with nothing but respect. I believe that we must all pay our deeds and physical property forward, and there’s no shame in demanding either from others if you really need it. I took the blanket and it was not the ideal thing to do by any means, but I would let him take mine if we switched roles. I do what must be done. When my best friend, the woman who is now my wife, was abused (albeit to a much lesser degree than by that felon Rasheed) by Khadim, the neighborhood bully, I had a bone to pick with him. Priorities are one of the most undervalued parts of life.
Laila-by Jace Parker
I constantly think of when Tariq told me the news that his family was leaving for Pakistan, I really wanted to go with him because of our relationship. I couldn't leave though; Babi was trying his best to keep our family together. My brothers Ahmad and Noor had been killed fighting against the communist regime that was persisting to flood our country. Mammy hadn't had a good day since Ahmad and Noor left for the war and it went more downhill with news of their deaths. The days had gotten worse as the Taliban were killing innocent citizens on a daily basis due to the rockets being launched back and forth. Babi knew if we didn't leave like Tariq’s family did, we wouldn't be alive much longer. The hard part was convincing Mammy to leave; she wanted to stay in Kabul until it was cleaned up and her son’s acts of bravery were justified. Babi explained that she and I would be dead before she ever saw that day. Mammy was soon convinced to depart for Pakistan, so we packed up our necessities and threw all the rest away.
I was taking some of our belongings outside to throw away, and then a rocket struck our house. I was completely disoriented when I found myself in a new house with different people surrounding me. I had been found in all the rubble by a man who lived up the street, Rasheed. I believe in second chances because I was given a second chance. I could have been left to bleed out and not been given a second chance to live my life, but that wasn't the case.
The second chance that I thought I was gaining turned out to be, in the end, an abusive and non-mutual relationship with Rasheed. I first found out that from Abdul Shariff that Tariq was in an explosion that left him legless and eventually killed him. Then, I realized I was pregnant but not with Rasheed’s child, I knew it was Tariq’s child. I believe that this child would give me a second chance to see a part of Tariq and to somewhat fill his void. During the depression of our country, I had a second child, Zalmai; he idolized Rasheed which was hard because Rasheed was an awful man. We had no money now because Rasheed’s shop caught fire and his temper cost him job opportunities. Rasheed said we had to give Aziza to the local orphanage so we could get by and have more money. I reluctantly agreed and often visited Aziza and made sure she knew this was only a temporary situation. One day as Mariam and I were walking towards the house there was a surprise at the door.
I couldn't believe it; I had thought I was dreaming because I realized the man at the door was Tariq. I didn't know it was possible to be this relieved to see someone. Rasheed had lied to me and kept me in his misery for so long. This is why I believe in second chances, Tariq could have not showed up and I would have thought he was dead. I was given a second chance to reunite and live the life I wanted with Tariq. Zalmai had told Rasheed about Tariq and Rasheed didn't take the news well; he beat me and Mariam with his belt. We retaliated and I remember his hands around my throat when I was this close to suffocation and Mariam hits him over the head with shovel, I could breathe again. Mariam sacrificed her life for me and my family by killing Rasheed and then afterwards she told me to take the kids and move far away with Tariq as she would turn herself into the authorities. I now had a second chance at life and I took full advantage of that chance.
I was finally free with Tariq, Aziza and Zalmai. We had good lives in Pakistan, but as I heard Kabul was turning around I felt the need to give Kabul a second chance. Tariq supported me fully and we first stopped in Herat, Mariam’s hometown. This let me return the favor to Mariam in a way, to give some closure to Mariam’s life. Going back to Kabul was a shock because it was better, but was tarnished from the bombings and years of terrorism. I fulfilled my second chance and am enjoying life more than ever; I work as a teacher at the old orphanage and being able to see my children and Tariq everyday back in my rejuvenated hometown. I believe in second chances because of my life, I have been given second chances and finally was able to give Kabul a second chance and this only makes my belief stronger.
Rasheed-by Cole Crump
What does it mean to be a man? A man must be strong, independent, strong willed, and must care for his family. It is also his duty to assert himself as the higher of the sexes. Is it a woman's job to work? To show her face on the street? To have guests over? No. Women of old wore burqas. They stayed home with the kids. They prepared meals, and cleaned the house. The jobs that men do are not a woman's, and the jobs of women aren't to be done by men. We are a strong people not to be governed by women.
But what if the women aren't doing as they're supposed to be? Disobeying the men? Defiling our authority? We have to assert ourselves. We have to remain the higher sex. We have to put them in their rightful place, even if they don't learn their lesson and we have to go through this process again. We have to remain they way we once were.
The world is a changing place. Hell, Kabul is a changing place. Women are beginning to gain more power. That woman from down the street, Fariba, she's an example. She's bossing her husband around. Yelling at him. And worst of all, he lets her. He lets a woman treat him as no woman should. I don't even know why he calls himself a man. If my wives act up, it's my duty to put them in their place, not the other way around. It's a man's world, and I intend to keep it that way.
Mariam-by Sierra Johnson-Golding
I have tried and failed to be what people have wanted me to be. Every time I have looked for something better and tried to meet what I thought were someone’s expectations I have been beat. Some of those times with the belt my husband carried. I at one point in my life had given up all hope. I become nothing to fill the expectations of the people around me. I did exactly as I was told I carried my life from room to room of my husband’s house feeling the penance for not be able to carry my husband’s children of not preventing my own mother from taking her life of not being able to be enough. Soon enough though my husband walked through the door with a new wife that I thought at the time was my new worst enemy but she taught to me something that made all of it seem worth it. She gave me hope through an unconditional love that I had never before understood or received.
One night after Aziza, Laila’s new daughter, had been born I was walked into the kitchen late at night which usually I would avoid if Laila was there but she had fallen asleep in the doorway with the baby tucked up against her. I saw the baby was wide awake and as she started to squeal I thought better of letting Laila wake up to that and the baby with her slow and awkward movements grabbed my finger as if I was the only person she wanted there. This taught me what it meant to love and even more so what it meant to be a mother. This unconditional love brought life back to the dismal place that we called home.
I was given the hope and unconditional love to help carry this burden of guilt I have carried with me my whole life including some that is not even my own. I die with an understanding in my heart for those that loved me in their life and a peace because I am fulfilling the ultimate sacrifice of the unconditional love that saved me. I came into this world as a harami that no part of my weak family system or another could pretend they wanted to hold as they gave me to whoever would take me. “(I) thought of my entry into this world, the harami the lowly villager, an unintended thing. A weed. (I) was leaving the world as a woman who had loved and been loved back. (II was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. A mother. A person of consequence at last.” I believe that it was love that brought me here and I have made the ultimate sacrifice for it.
Tariq-by Pat Min
In jail, you know, it was the closest thing to eternal struggle that I've ever gone through. But compared to what my wife, whom I foolishly deserted when we were only teenagers, went through, my experience was not nearly as horrific. But even then, I had to focus on the moment at hand. If I didn't, who knows, I wouldn't be here and my mother would be long gone as well. As much as it killed me to hold “a shard of glass to" that kid's "throat and" take "his blanket,” getting that blanket for my mother was one of the best decisions I made. Of course I felt bad about it. He might have died from it, which is the worst thing a person can see. Laila saw her evil husband being killed, which is a rare exception to my previous statement.
When I make choices, I subconsciously rate them in how important they are. Unfortunately, neither Laila, Allah bless her, nor myself weighed the magnitude of how much we really loved (and still do love) each other. If I could relive that truly hard decision, I know I would have gladly risked my life by staying in Afghanistan and getting shot 1000 times by the Taliban, rather than go for 10 years without her. Of course, I’m so grateful that she was able to get out from that dead monster’s lair, whom I was “not afraid of...you know.” I am afraid that I won’t get the scars of his abuse out of Laila’s memory, however. Prison was far from fun, but even though the conditions there were bad, I still had hundreds if not thousands of other people to rely on. My wife had two little children, and Mariam, of course, who played an instrumental role in keeping her safe. Besides them, she only had the four walls of that dark house.
I’m a janitor now, and just like my job, I have to clean up after the past by treating my wife and kids with nothing but respect. I believe that we must all pay our deeds and physical property forward, and there’s no shame in demanding either from others if you really need it. I took the blanket and it was not the ideal thing to do by any means, but I would let him take mine if we switched roles. I do what must be done. When my best friend, the woman who is now my wife, was abused (albeit to a much lesser degree than by that felon Rasheed) by Khadim, the neighborhood bully, I had a bone to pick with him. Priorities are one of the most undervalued parts of life.
Laila-by Jace Parker
I constantly think of when Tariq told me the news that his family was leaving for Pakistan, I really wanted to go with him because of our relationship. I couldn't leave though; Babi was trying his best to keep our family together. My brothers Ahmad and Noor had been killed fighting against the communist regime that was persisting to flood our country. Mammy hadn't had a good day since Ahmad and Noor left for the war and it went more downhill with news of their deaths. The days had gotten worse as the Taliban were killing innocent citizens on a daily basis due to the rockets being launched back and forth. Babi knew if we didn't leave like Tariq’s family did, we wouldn't be alive much longer. The hard part was convincing Mammy to leave; she wanted to stay in Kabul until it was cleaned up and her son’s acts of bravery were justified. Babi explained that she and I would be dead before she ever saw that day. Mammy was soon convinced to depart for Pakistan, so we packed up our necessities and threw all the rest away.
I was taking some of our belongings outside to throw away, and then a rocket struck our house. I was completely disoriented when I found myself in a new house with different people surrounding me. I had been found in all the rubble by a man who lived up the street, Rasheed. I believe in second chances because I was given a second chance. I could have been left to bleed out and not been given a second chance to live my life, but that wasn't the case.
The second chance that I thought I was gaining turned out to be, in the end, an abusive and non-mutual relationship with Rasheed. I first found out that from Abdul Shariff that Tariq was in an explosion that left him legless and eventually killed him. Then, I realized I was pregnant but not with Rasheed’s child, I knew it was Tariq’s child. I believe that this child would give me a second chance to see a part of Tariq and to somewhat fill his void. During the depression of our country, I had a second child, Zalmai; he idolized Rasheed which was hard because Rasheed was an awful man. We had no money now because Rasheed’s shop caught fire and his temper cost him job opportunities. Rasheed said we had to give Aziza to the local orphanage so we could get by and have more money. I reluctantly agreed and often visited Aziza and made sure she knew this was only a temporary situation. One day as Mariam and I were walking towards the house there was a surprise at the door.
I couldn't believe it; I had thought I was dreaming because I realized the man at the door was Tariq. I didn't know it was possible to be this relieved to see someone. Rasheed had lied to me and kept me in his misery for so long. This is why I believe in second chances, Tariq could have not showed up and I would have thought he was dead. I was given a second chance to reunite and live the life I wanted with Tariq. Zalmai had told Rasheed about Tariq and Rasheed didn't take the news well; he beat me and Mariam with his belt. We retaliated and I remember his hands around my throat when I was this close to suffocation and Mariam hits him over the head with shovel, I could breathe again. Mariam sacrificed her life for me and my family by killing Rasheed and then afterwards she told me to take the kids and move far away with Tariq as she would turn herself into the authorities. I now had a second chance at life and I took full advantage of that chance.
I was finally free with Tariq, Aziza and Zalmai. We had good lives in Pakistan, but as I heard Kabul was turning around I felt the need to give Kabul a second chance. Tariq supported me fully and we first stopped in Herat, Mariam’s hometown. This let me return the favor to Mariam in a way, to give some closure to Mariam’s life. Going back to Kabul was a shock because it was better, but was tarnished from the bombings and years of terrorism. I fulfilled my second chance and am enjoying life more than ever; I work as a teacher at the old orphanage and being able to see my children and Tariq everyday back in my rejuvenated hometown. I believe in second chances because of my life, I have been given second chances and finally was able to give Kabul a second chance and this only makes my belief stronger.