cheryl santa maria

It’s early morning in Kandahar.  The sun is beginning to shine through the clouds and a slight breeze is in the air.  Within a few hours it will be hot – a little warmer than usual for October.  The children seem to enjoy it; a small group of them weave in and out of rows of baskets and tables as their parents set up shop.  Soon people will begin to flood the bazaars, in search of anything and everything.  Despite the wars and the misogyny consumerism appears to be alive and well.

For many it will be business as usual.  But there are others who will be a little slow in their step today.

On September 28 Malalai Kaker was shot dead by two thugs on a motorbike.  The Taliban gleefully took credit for her slaughter, warning that any woman who dares to think, speak, and – horror of all horrors – earn her keep independent of a man, will suffer the same fate.

 Unfortunately it was not just the Taliban that wanted her dead.  Many men and even some women in this conservative city viewed her as a dangerous renegade and condemned her refusal to take on a traditional female role.

We can’t cast everyone in the same light.  For every bigot, terrorist and war mongerer, there is at least one activist.  Sadly, at this moment in time, hate and oppression appears to have a much louder voice.

Malalai Kaker was a hero.  She was the first female detective in Kandahar and one of the highest-ranking police officers in Afghanistan.  Two years ago she removed her burqa**.  She was viewed as as an equal among her counterparts but she was prohibited from operating a  motor vehicle. 

 Women in Kandahar are not allowed to drive.

What’s even more interesting, however, is that the vast majority the “pro burqa” commenters appeared to be men.  I will be the first to admit that I am ignorant re: Muslim culture, so I’d be interested to hear how Muslim women feel about burqas.