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| credit: Gencraft AI |
Kamel: father
Arman: elder son
Naghma: daughter
Babek: younger son
Mina: Babek’s wife
Part 4
Arman risked being stopped by the Taliban as he drove in
the early hours towards the prison complex to look for his family. He parked where
he had a partial view of the entrance and waited. He stood by his car and lit a
Marlboro, still available and his favourite smoke since his dad worked for the British.
An official vehicle slowly drew up and parked before government buildings near
the prison. He had no time to get back in the car before the chauffeur opened
the passenger door and a Taliban officer got out. He looked over and walked towards
Arman. He shuddered with fear; he knew it was a crime to be loitering at this
hour, but the officer examined him closely, hesitated, then held out his hand. Arman
was amazed but extended his hand in return, a tradition they had both learned
from the west. It dawned on him that this was the Minister for Agriculture, Irrigation
and Livestock who had presented Arman with his awards.
‘In the name of Allah, I am honoured to see you again and to
give further praise for your ground-breaking work for our magnificent nation. You
may remember me; I am Abdul Rahman Rashid and here is my card. That is my office
you see over there alongside the Pul-e-Charkhi. You may call on me if it
pleases you, and in gratitude, I will be honoured to bestow any favour I consider
worthy, should you have need.’
Arman bowed, gave humble thanks and Abdul Rashid turned and
walked to the headquarters. He was still reeling from the encounter, when a few
men came out of the Pul-e-Charkhi gates and among them, was Grandfather, leaning
on Babek and both walking slowly in unsteady steps. He embraced them and cautiously
helped them into the Toyota.
Arman gave his familiar knocks and Mother unlocked the
door. She was overjoyed to see the men but incensed at their state, especially
her father’s and extremely concerned that the women were not with them. She boiled
water to bathe their weeping wounds. Grandfather’s treatment had been similar
to Babek’s but he was ninety years old and far more frail. Five lashes were
more than he could endure and he too had been given dire warnings. Babek shouted
in fury;
‘What are these
rodents doing to our country? They are mad, mindless criminals.’
Arman and Mother helped grandfather lie down on the low divan
and he was asleep in moments. Both knew sleep was healing. Another tap on the
door and it was the women. Babek held Mina close and then Naghma; Arman put his
arms round both. The women spoke of their
mild treatment, each recognising there would be no second chance. They wept to
be back home but when Babek revealed the joyful news of seeing father in the
prison yard, everyone was astonished. It was Arman’s turn to tell his story and
for him to digest the significance of the favour handed to him by the minister.
After hearing his father was alive, a request was already taking shape in his
mind.
It was already morning and Arman had to go to work, but the
explosion of ideas concerning his father, helped him face the day. Babek was on
a two-day break so had a second day to recover. He knew his name and address but
not his employment, had been recorded at the prison. Staff was depleted in
every field, especially health. For this reason his crime was unlikely to be
followed up and in any case, how could they do without him? Arman came home
that night exhausted but excited; he had an appointment to see the minister and
would prepare a request for his father’s release.
‘Salam Alaikum,’ said Abdul Rashid in a warm greeting,
placing the customary hand over his heart and Arman did the same.
‘My father, Kamel Aziz, is an honourable man,’ explained
Arman. ‘His only sin was to be an educated man who spoke English and to be selected
by the British army to be an interpreter to the officers. When the army left,
he was arrested as a traitor. As you
know, many things changed during the war and my father used his skills to
maintain his family but was never once disloyal.’
Arman made his case with passion and the minister sat immobile.
It was impossible to read his thoughts and Arman feared he had said too much. Abdul
Rashid remained silent, looking beyond Arman, staring at the wall. Then he
spoke;
‘Arman Aziz, you have done well; in your studies; in your
contribution to our great nation, and now in your earnest plea for Kamel Aziz.
Tomorrow, I will go to the Pul-e-Charkhi prison and announce your father’s
release. I have an honourable relationship with the prison governor; he is my
brother. You are a worthy son and I believe your father is a good man.’
There was no more to be said, Arman gave his most gracious
thanks, bowed and left the building.
The next day, Kamel Aziz brought light into the darkest corner and the family gave praise to Allah.
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