Shooting Kabul Read Online Free PDF Page A

leave,” Habib had told her. “I could try to find a job here—that would extend our stay—but don’t you think it’s our duty to go back? We are educated. We can help the country get back on its feet after so many years of war. I can help the farmers improve their crop yields, so fewer people will be hungry. You can open a school, like you’ve always wanted to.”
    Zafoona had pursed her lips in contemplation as Habib had pushed on.
    â€œJust last night CNN was showing the Taliban’s visit to the United Nations headquarters in New York. They are an amazing group of young men—inexperienced, sure, but they are bringing law and order to Afghanistan. They’re getting rid of all the corrupt and brutal warlords that took over the country after the Soviets left. Many refugees are returning.” Habib had coaxed, “In your new school you could teach the kids all about the great books you love so much.”
    Zafoona had smiled and relented. She knew her husband was an idealist, and in the end she’d agreed to his plan. Deep in her heart she’d also wanted to see her mother, whose health had deteriorated while they’d been in Wisconsin. Within a year of their return to Kabul, Habib’s dreams had been shattered. The Taliban took control of the capital, and Kabul University was closed. The black-turbaned young men banned the education of girls, and any hope of Zafoona’s opening a school was erased. The once respected and honored Taliban became what they were fighting against, the oppressive warlords and dictators that had preceded them. When the Taliban gave Habib the ultimatum to join them, Habib knewthe family could no longer stay.
    The flight attendant interrupted Fadi’s dark thoughts as she stopped her cart next to them. Noor snapped out of her daze and pulled out her earphones.
    â€œWe have two options for your meal today,” said the flight attendant with a white-toothed smile. “Chicken with pasta or fish over rice pilaf.”
    Fadi looked at her blankly for a few seconds; his brain was slow in getting used to English again, even though his mother had drilled them every day during their homeschooling. “Chicken”? What is “chicken”? Oh yeah, charg. “Chicken, please,” he said.
    â€œChicken,” responded Noor. “Please,” she added as an afterthought. She pushed Fadi’s elbow off the armrest. “Stop hogging my space.”
    Fadi quickly moved his elbow. He didn’t want to provoke her. She was in one of her moods again. The flight attendant gave them their trays and turned to his parents.
    â€œTwo fish, please,” said Habib, lowering his and Zafoona’s tray tables.
    As Habib took the steaming trays of food, Zafoona opened her eyes. She was a little better after the medicines the doctor in Peshawar had given her, but she wasstill weak.
    â€œTry to eat, jaan ,” whispered Habib. “You need to keep your strength up.”
    Zafoona rolled back the tinfoil and eyed the fillet of fish lying on a small pile of yellow rice. As she picked up the fork, her eyes filled with tears. “How can I eat when I don’t know if my baby is hungry or not?” she whispered.
    Deep creases lined Habib’s clean-shaven face. “She will be found,” he said.
    â€œYou could have gone back to Jalalabad again,” said Zafoona.
    Fadi watched his father’s face sag. “I didn’t find anything, jaan . There was no trace of Mariam, or anyone who’d seen her. I barely snuck back across the Pakistan border with my life. I had to bribe the border guard with the last of our cash.”
    Fadi dug his fingernails into his seat. The four days his father had been gone had filled them with constant fear. If the Taliban had caught him, he would have ended up in jail, or worse. It wasn’t till he’d returned, dirty and exhausted, that the family had breathed a sigh of