Chapter 1- Bashira (Only Chance)

Chapter 1- Bashira

   "Bashira!" my mother called. "We must go to the store to get some rice."

   "Yes mother." I replied.

   "Get Abdul from his room." Abdul is my big brother. We're very fortunate to have a man relative left. Here in Afghanistan, women must not go outside without a man. We must wear burkas. Burkas are long cloths that cover the whole body. We have little screens to see through. Our feet can't even be shown. If we do anything wrong, the Taliban will either shoot us, get hung, get stoned to death, get burned, or get beaten to death. We can have no TV, internet, or music. We always fear of the Taliban.

   If we hadn't have had Abdul, we would be starving and not be able to go anywhere. I've seen bunches of women protesting that they're starving or need work. Each one of them had a chance of being killed.

   There were very few girls' schools open here. We got taught how to read and to write. We also learned about the Qur'an. I know how to speak, read, and write Dari and Arabic.

   The morning was chilly, but our burkas kept us warm. Quadira, my younger sister, was still shivering.

   "Mother will find a job eventually. Abdul is our only hope." I thought as I walked. My father and uncles have died in the wars in Kabul.

   We finally met the rice shop. The shop owner was our friend.

   "Nice to see you again Rabia, Bashira, Quadira, and Abdul."

   "Nice to see you too Mohammed." my mother replied.

   "What would you like today?" Mohammed asked.

   "Some rice." my mother said.

   "I'll give you a discount." he went in the back to get rice.

   "Thank you very much." we all say.

   "My pleasure." he says when he returned. My mother handed him money and we started to walk towards the door.

   As we were about to open the door to the outside world, we heard women protesting. We opened the door and saw bunches of women with signs saying "Man zarurat kaar!" and "Man faaqa budan!"

   All of the sudden we heard a truck coming down the lane. "The Taliban." I thought.

   We asked Mohammed if we could stay in the shop until the Taliban were gone. He said that we could as we quiclky backed away from the door. "Thank Allah this shop doesn't have windows." I thought with panic.

   I started to hear gun shots. Loud gun shots. I heard women crying and screaming. Death came into my mind. I felt tears coming out of my eyes. I turned to my mother. She was covering Quadira's ears and crying also. Abdul and Mohammed were standing next to my mom gloomly.

   "Is there a back door to go through that doesn't go in the lane?" my mother asked Mohammed.

   "No, I'm afraid not." sounding miserable. My mom kept crying with me. Even Quadira was crying when she was blocked out by the noises.

   After thirty minuets, we thought it was safe to go out again. We said thank you to Mohammed and headed out the door. The lane shocked us. The Taliban were beating a women in public. You could hear her screams from a mile away. Most of the men came to watch. I couldn't watch anymore. We quickly walked to our home.

 

   "I must get a job soon." mom said while we were eating dinner.

   "Mama, you could be a teacher at my school." I replied

   "I can't teach. I can't read or write our language."

   "I'll teach you Mama."

   "You can?"

   "Yes I will."

   "Thank you my middle child!" I'm the middle child born. Abdul is sixteen, Quadira is ten and I'm twelve. My father died when I was ten in wars. I wish he was here.

   "When would you like to start the lessons?" I asked her.

   "Tomorrow afer dinner."

Author's Note

ignore spelling problems also the signs mean "I need work" and "I'm starving"

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very detail and sad story. I spend time in Afghanistan. Your words describe a life that is even harder in real life. Story is very good. Description of the characters and events are very well written. A excellent start to your story.
Coyote