[Zakia, 19, never goes out
at all, for fear that she might encounter someone from her own large family.
Her fathers and brothers publicly vowed to kill her and Mohammad Ali when they eloped.
They accused him of kidnapping her and said she had been married already to a man
she had never met, chosen for her by her father.]
By Rod Nordland
Mohammad Ali resting while preparing
soil for a potato crop near his family
home outside the town of Bamian in
Afghanistan. He carries a pistol
for protection.
|
BAMIAN, Afghanistan — After nearly a year on
the run, a pair of star-crossed young lovers are back in the
Afghan village where both their love affair and their problems began.
The young couple, Zakia
and Mohammad Ali, had faced criminal charges and death threats after eloping
and fleeing their village in the high mountains of central Afghanistan last
year. Now, they have had their legal issues resolved and their marriage legally
recognized.
But while his family has
welcomed them back, hers is another matter.
When Mohammad Ali, 22,
works in the fields of his family’s farm, he wears his shirt untucked, and a
black pistol attached to his belt pokes out beneath it. A guard dog is tied up
in front of their mud house, one of several small buildings in a walled
courtyard in their village on the outskirts of the town of Bamian.
Zakia, 19, never goes out
at all, for fear that she might encounter someone from her own large family.
Her fathers and brothers publicly vowed to kill her and Mohammad Ali when they eloped.
They accused him of kidnapping her and said she had been married already to a man
she had never met, chosen for her by her father.
“I know there is still a
risk to us, but we had no choice,” Mohammad Ali said last week. Now that they
were back among the rugged mountain ranges that surround the Bamian valley, he
was glad. “Your homeland is a place you will always love, and every mountain
pass in my country is precious to me,” he said.
Since eloping last March
21, the couple has faced many obstacles. There were months of flight, followed by Mohammad Ali’s capture by
the police in Kabul, who he said beat him daily. Zakia took refuge in a shelter
run byWomen
for Afghan Women, a charity. The group’s lawyers managed to win
Mohammad Ali’s freedom, and the two were reunited and their marriage
recognized as valid.
Even as they became a
cause célèbre — particularly among young Afghans, many of whom mounted Facebook
and Twitter campaigns hailing them as a modern Romeo and Juliet who had the
courage to choose their own mates in defiance of Afghan social norms — the
couple dropped from public view.
They returned briefly to
their village, but before long, one of Zakia’s brothers, armed with a gun and a
knife, pursued Mohammad Ali through the potato fields. He managed to escape,
but Mohammad Ali and a pregnant Zakia then fled to the protection of distant
mountain villages in Yakawlang District.
Zakia was having a
difficult pregnancy, though, and there were few medical services in Yakawlang,
so they returned to hiding in Kabul last August.
“They live in a constant
state of fear,” said Aziza Ahmadi, the acting head of women’s affairs in Bamian
Province. She was among those officials who tried to negotiate an amicable
settlement with Zakia’s family, but they remained vehemently opposed to the union
because they are Tajiks and Sunni Muslims, whereas Mohammad Ali is a Hazara and
a Shiite Muslim. “They’re really at risk if they stay here,” Ms. Ahmadi said.
“It’s better for them to leave the country.”
They tried that, too.
Officials at the United States Embassy, as well as at several European
embassies in Kabul, told them they could consider their asylum request only if
they first fled as refugees to a neighboring country.
In October, they crossed
into Tajikistan on visas, along with Mohammad Ali’s father, Anwar, intending to
apply for status as refugees, in the hopes of then asking for asylum in the
West. Like many Afghans, all three of them have only first names.
Refugee officials had
told them they qualified on at least five grounds, any one of which would
normally qualify someone for asylum, including a serious threat to their lives
based on discrimination because of gender, race, religion, ethnicity and choice
of spouse.
Shortly after they
started the process to register with the United Nations High Commissioner for
Refugees in Tajikistan, Zakia and Mohammad Ali were stopped on a busy street in
the Tajik capital, Dushanbe, during daytime by two men who identified
themselves as police officers.
The officers robbed them
of their life savings, about $5,000, including jewelry that Zakia wore and
cellphones, and then summarily deported them from Tajikistan, according to
interviews with the couple and Anwar, as well as an independent witness who
accompanied them on the trip and was also robbed by the police in Dushanbe, and
whose name is being withheld for his safety so he can continue working in the
country. They were not permitted to return to their hotel to collect their
belongings.
Babar Baloch, a spokesman
for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, said that the agency
could not discuss the couple’s specific case, but that the agency was aware
that “in some instances, asylum seekers may face harassment, arbitrary
detention and deportation” in Tajikistan.
Tajikistan, which borders
Afghanistan to the north, is a former Soviet republic with a record of human rights violations and a
reputation as one of the most corrupt countries in the world.
Women’s advocates
suggested that the couple try to seek asylum in India or Pakistan. Pakistan also has a recent history of mistreating
Afghan refugees,even those registered with the United Nations High
Commissioner for Refugees, and India has few people who speak
Dari, the only language the couple speak. With Zakia’s pregnancy nearing term,
they decided to return to Bamian instead.
“We’re done with running
away,” Mohammad Ali said, sitting at home late last month with Zakia and their
new baby, a daughter named Ruqia, who was born at the end of December. “This is
our proof that we belonged together,” he added, nodding toward Ruqia. “Nobody
can take this away from us now.”
Economically, their
situation at home has been desperate. They were low on food and even fuel
during the bitterly cold winter here, burning bushes and dung rather than more
costly wood or coal for heat. Anwar’s small farm produces potatoes, but
competition from Pakistani farmers made it nearly impossible for many Afghan
farmers to sell last fall’s crop. Anwar’s harvest sits in storage without a
buyer, and it will spoil if one is not found before winter ends.
Mohammad Ali said they
were getting by because an anonymous benefactor in the United States who had
read about their plight had sent them $1,000 via Western Union to help care for
their baby. He used half of the money to buy food and fuel for their family,
which numbers 10 adults and nine children sharing his father’s home, and with
some of the rest, he bought the pistol he now carries.
Bamian’s deputy police
chief, Mohammad Ali Lagzi, said the authorities were aware of the risk to the
couple. “From the time they returned, we are keeping an eye on them,” he said.
“It is the police’s job to make sure every single citizen is safe.”
The couple were dubious
about how much real protection the police could provide in a rural community
where Zakia’s family has a home less than half a mile away.
If they survive, Zakia
said, they want to see their daughter get the education neither of them had.
“It doesn’t matter that she is a baby girl,” she said. “I just want her not to
grow up illiterate as we are.” If they do live to see Ruqia’s adulthood,
Mohammad Ali added, one thing is for sure. “We won’t choose her husband,” he
said. “She will.”
Jawad Sukhanyar
contributed reporting.