‘A Pretty Toy In My Family’s Hands’: the Afghan Women’s Writing Project

The Afghan Women’s Writing Project was set up in 2008, inspired by the novelist, Masha Hamilton, who wanted to provide the incredible Afghan women that she knew with a forum to share their stories. This arena, unbiased by the media or the influence of male relatives, allows these women to assert their voices, even if they often have to do so secretly and without the knowledge of their families.

In honour of Channel 16’s multi-partner ‘Green Scarves for Solidarity’ campaign, we will be featuring an AWWP story each week until the end of October. Last week, we featured one by a woman brave enough to be running for Parliament.

This week, our story provides an insight into one Afghan woman’s frustration at being forced into life-changing decisions by her family.

‘A Pretty Toy In My Family’s Hands‘

I was sixteen years old, attending school and thinking about my future goals to be either a doctor or a journalist. I knew nothing of life, and I had no thought of marrying. One day my uncle, who is a doctor, came to our house and said, “You should not study, because you are a girl. You should get married.” I thought it was a joke because my uncle is a doctor and knew the value of education. I come from an educated family; almost all my relatives were educated. I was polite and said nothing. I got him tea, and then went to do my homework.

The next day, several relatives arrived at our house. I was not aware at first of what was going on, but then I understand they were at my home to buy me. I was such a pretty toy, a pretty toy to play with. The family that was proposing the marriage was discussing my cost with my father. At that time, I did not know I had any right to say I was not for sale.

Finally, they sold me for 6,000 US dollars. This is when my life problems started. My fiancé was uneducated and he forbade me to go to school. After one year, when I was seventeen, my husband divorced me, but I was already pregnant.

My baby arrived prematurely. The night he was born, I nearly died. It was a very bad night. All the doctors were working to save me and my child. My body was in a lot of pain, and I had no information about becoming a mother. When the midwife handed me my newborn, I remember she said, “You are still a child. Why do you want to give birth to another child?”

After the birth, my ex-husband took my son and left me with nothing. Here again, I did not have information. What should I do? I didn’t know. There was nobody to tell me, “It’s your right to take care of your own child.” Again, my family played with me.

After one year, I began to work and started my new life. I understood the things that were done to me were completely wrong. But I didn’t fully feel my anger. I worked in my province for four years. Then I decided to continue my education, and I asked my office to transfer me to another province, because in my province it was not possible for me to study.

I moved and began school. And one day, our teacher was giving a lecture about psychology.

Read the rest of the story here.

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