How ironic is it that when Malalai Joya, the outspoken Afghani human rights activist and politician, wants to escape from public view, she dons a burqua. But even that,
“cannot always hide Afghanistan’s most famous woman. A visit to a maternity hospital in Kabul last month provoked a security alert. Initial irritation among the pregnant women standing in the dusty heat turned to near hysteria as they realised who was behind the veil. A whisper, ‘It’s Joya, Joya is here,’ spread like electricity through the crowd. Women have been known to walk for miles just to touch her. For them, she is their only real hope for a better future.”
As The Telegraph (UK) points out, despite having representation in the parliament, the circumstances of many women’s lives in Afghanistan is still extremely dire,
“Under the Taliban, Afghanistan was notorious for the treatment of its women. Girls were not allowed to be educated beyond the age of eight. Women were barred from working, from being treated by male doctors, from enjoying the most basic freedom of movement, and from appearing in public without the burqa. To those who broke the rules, extreme punishments were meted out.
Today, Afghanistan has a democratically elected government, in which women are well represented: its new constitution requires that two women be elected from each of its 34 provinces. Women make up about a quarter of the country’s parliament. But Taliban insurgency, corruption, the country’s dependence on opium production, and infighting between local commanders over power and territory has left it impoverished and unstable. In many ways, the situation for Afghanistan’s women has not improved, and Malalai Joya, by far the country’s most outspoken female politician, will not stand for it.”
The Telegraph’s description of Joya’s visit to a women’s shelter attests to both the esteem in which she is held and her commitment to bettering the plight of women in her country,
“After a round of phone calls, and with disguises in place, we prepare to visit a series of ‘friendly’ locations in Kabul with Joya and her armed bodyguards – sometimes as many as six, often using more than one car. Dressed in the blue burqa she describes as ‘a shroud for the living’, she takes us to a suburb of Kabul where we stop at an ordinary-looking house. This is a shelter for women, one of several in the capital that house the victims of violence, forced marriages and a variety of other abuses. The inhabitants, about 20 of them, range in age from 11 to 60, but by far the saddest is Alya – a softly spoken 16-year-old, bartered into a loveless marriage at the age of 12.
The stumps of what were once her hands are all that is visible of the terrible burns she suffered when her husband and mother-in-law ‘punished’ her for baking a bad batch of bread. They beat her and threw oil on her; in unimaginable desperation, Alya set fire to herself. Now she cannot comb her hair, feed herself or hold a book. Her pain is constant and, despite medication, unrelenting. In a different society, she could look forward to months of corrective surgery to improve her condition, but the procedures involve costly convalescence and care. Her dreams are simple: she tells Joya, ‘I want only three things – to divorce, to heal my hands and to get an education.’ Alya’s plight moves Joya to tears. She fights for control, whispering in English, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ She has said many times of the women of Afghanistan, ‘Their suffering is my suffering.’
And their suffering is immense. Statistics published by Cure International, a Christian charity dedicated to transforming the lives of disabled children and their families in the developing world, indicate that every day 44 Afghan women die giving birth. The infant mortality rate is 165 per 1,000 live births (compared with seven per 1,000 in the USA). Other statistics are more shocking still: 87 per cent of Afghan women are illiterate, and only 30 per cent of girls have access to education; one in three Afghan women experiences physical, psychological or sexual violence; the average life expectancy for women is 44, and as many as 80 per cent of women face forced marriages.”
Joya offers some sobering thoughts about the role of American and Britain in Afghanistan,
“Joya believes that Britain and America have a responsibility, too. She acknowledges that the withdrawal of international security forces would result in civil war in Afghanistan, but believes that the United States is making a mockery of democracy and the war on terrorism with its support for corrupt Afghan lawmakers. ‘Bush talks about education, but these fundamentalists who are in power are burning schools,’ she says. ‘Bush talks about women’s rights, but women are committing suicide because of violence. They prefer to die than to be alive.’
For the parents of those British servicemen who have died in her country, she has a sobering message: ‘I want to offer my condolences on behalf of the suffering men and women of Afghanistan to those mothers and fathers who lost their dear ones. They think that they come to Afghan-istan to bring democracy, security and human rights, but I tell you that though they shed their blood in Afghanistan, they are not changing the lives of the people.’”
And finally, she offers these wise words, well worth heeding as we begin to observe Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
“Her vision of the country’s future is pragmatic. ‘Society in my opinion is like a bird,’ she says. ‘One wing is man, one wing is woman. When one wing is injured, can the bird fly?’”
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.