Unfair Talibs

Rahim Khan, an old family friend, was greatly ill. He coughed nonstop all day, sometimes coughing up blood; he was also not eating and losing weight rapidly. Finally, he decided to get some help by leaving Kabul and travelling to Pakistan to seek out consultations with doctors. Trusting me to maintain the big house he was living in, he left. He planned to return with good news soon. Shortly after Rahim left, there were apparently rumours surfacing around Kabul that a Hazara family was living in the big house by themselves. A couple days later, Taliban officials came to investigate this rumour and I told them that my family and I were living with Rahim Khan and that he was away at the moment. They didn’t believe me! They accused me of lying! Even though the neighbours supported me and my story, they still did not believe me – or they chose not to believe me. They ordered my family and me to pack our things and leave the house by the end of the day. When I protested, they took me out to the streets. They ordered me to kneel down and they shot me, in the back of the head. Farzana then attacked them feeling disbelief and hurt, and was shot after. This was truly unfair. Those Talibs were unjust with the way they treated my wife and me. They were inhumane. They shot us without even thinking about it. How can people treat other people so cruelly? Do they have no feelings? No sense of love?

Stop genocide today. These are some links that promote awareness of genocide:
http://www.never-again.com/home.php
http://www.blackgenocide.org/gap.html

The Violation

It was a beautiful day, perfect for kite flying. It was the day me and Amir won the kite flying competition. In the morning, we got ready for a day of kite flying. We were determined to win. Throughout the day, one by one we took out every single kite from the sky. Amir was amazing at flying kites. At about midday it was between us and another blue kite; Amir waited for the perfect moment, ignoring his bleeding hands, to cut the kite – he beautifully swooped his kite and with a flick of his wrist, he was the last one standing. The only thing standing between him and the winning was going to find this last kite. It was my job to find it. I could not let Amir down; I would find it no matter what. I finally found the kite and was on my way back to find Amir, when Assef and his friends cut me off. They cornered me into an alley and raped me. They took away my dignity and my pride. Assef kept repeating that I was just a Hazara and that no one would care about what he was doing. This is how society was! Can you believe that? After that torturous day, I did not feel the same. What was wrong with me? How could I let this guy do this to me? I should have fought back harder. I was so embarrassed and ashamed by what happened on this day, I wanted to forget about whatever happened. I only told Rahim Khan and Dad because I needed to tell someone. They were so understanding and considerate. I am glad I told them. They comforted me and told me everything was going to be okay. Amir, on the other hand, was so weird to me after that day. We kind of stopped talking to each other and eventually just drifted apart. I wonder why he acted so differently. What did I do wrong? Why would he suddenly just ignore me? It hurt so much to see that Amir was avoiding me. We were the best of friends one day; how could that change all of a sudden?

Here are some links that helped me through this tough time:
http://www.rainn.org/
http://www.dancinginthedarkness.com/

A Lower Class

Amir and I were best friends, like brothers even. We did everything together; we always got into mischief, played games, ran in the streets together. We were inseparable. He and his father treated me and Dad like family. They bought me a birthday present every single year! I was so lucky to have such amazing employers. Amir and I even have a special spot that we would always go to, it was our climbing tree. We would always go there and Amir would often read to me. One day while we were walking there, Assef, the town bully, approached us. They were so mean and rude! They always ragged on Amir because he played with me. Apparently, he’s not supposed to play with a Hazara or the ‘help’. “Flat-Nose” is what he constantly referred to me as and always, always, always made fun of my father. What a bully. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t! He makes me feel so bad, he makes me want to just go home and cry all night. I hate him. He is so rude and disgraceful. He worships Hitler! Of all the people to worship, Hitler? No wonder he treats people the way he does. How can someone treat others so horribly, just because of their race? Skin colour? It’s so unfair! Racism; it’s such a cruel thing. Being abused by people who think they are better than you, can you imagine this? It is such disrespect. I hate bullies, I hate them.

Here are some help links:
http://www.kidshelpphone.ca/Teens/Home.aspx
http://www.bullying.org/
http://www.eraseracism.com/help-erase-racism.html
http://www.stophate.us/racism/racismhelp.html
http://www.childline.org.uk/explore/Pages/Explore.aspx