1997

By 1997, the Taliban had been in power in Kabul for nearly a year, and their decrees had reshaped every aspect of daily life. For Mariam and Laila, living in Rasheed's house in Deh-Mazang, the year was defined by the birth of a son, the intensification of Rasheed's brutality, and the first signs of a drought that would soon bring the city to its knees.

The Birth of Zalmai and the Deepening of Domestic Tyranny

In the spring of 1997, Laila gave birth to a son, Zalmai. The delivery was a harrowing ordeal. When Laila went into labor, the Taliban had just announced that Malalai Hospital, a women's hospital, would no longer treat women. The family was turned away and forced to go to Rabia Balkhi Hospital, a facility so under-resourced that it had no clean water, no oxygen, no medications, and no electricity. The waiting room was a chaotic mass of desperate women and children. When Laila was finally seen, the doctor discovered the baby was in the breech position and needed an emergency caesarian. The hospital had no anesthetic. Laila, in agony, told the doctor to cut her open anyway. Mariam, who had fought her way through the crowd to get Laila seen, stood by her head, holding her hands, as Laila endured the surgery without pain relief. Mariam would always admire Laila for how long she held out before she screamed. Zalmai was born healthy, but the experience underscored the Taliban's systematic neglect of women's healthcare. Rasheed was overjoyed to have a son. He immediately moved Zalmai into the bed he shared with Laila, bought him a new crib with painted lions and leopards, new clothes, new rattles, and a battery-operated mobile with bumblebees and a sunflower that played a tune. He took Zalmai to his shoe shop every day, letting him crawl under the workbench and play with scraps of leather. His patience with Zalmai was a well that never ran dry. In contrast, his treatment of Aziza, Laila's daughter from Tariq, became increasingly hostile. He called her "that thing" and complained constantly about her crying, her smell, and the mess she made. He bought a television and VCR on the black market, but when Aziza touched it, he snatched her wrist away and declared it was Zalmai's TV. The favoritism was stark and cruel.

The Escalation of Violence and the First Signs of Drought

Rasheed's violence toward Laila and Mariam escalated in 1997. When Laila punched him after he slapped her for objecting to his plan to send Aziza to beg on the streets, he responded by shoving the barrel of his gun into her mouth. The threat of death became a constant presence. The drought that would define the coming years began in 1998, but its effects were already being felt. The winter of 1997 had little snow, and the spring rains failed. Water tables dropped, shallow wells dried up, and the Kabul River, without its yearly floods, turned into a dry, public toilet. The lines at the deep wells grew so long that Mariam and Laila would spend hours waiting their turn. The drought compounded the already severe poverty caused by Rasheed's lost income and the Taliban's restrictions on women working. Hunger began to cast a pall over their lives. Rice, boiled plain and white, became a rare treat. They skipped meals with alarming regularity. Rasheed sometimes brought home sardines or stolen bags of apples, but the family was slowly starving.

The Growing Bond Between Mariam and Laila

Despite the hardship, 1997 also saw the deepening of the bond between Mariam and Laila. After years of hostility, they had become allies, sharing chores, raising Aziza together, and finding small moments of joy. Mariam, who had never been wanted like this before, found in Aziza the first true connection of her life. She taught Aziza verses from the Koran, drew elephants for her the way Jalil had shown her, and made her a doll stuffed with beans. The two women would sit in the yard, drinking tea and eating halwa, watching the fireflies, and sharing their stories. Mariam told Laila about Jalil, Nana, and the jinn. Laila told Mariam about Tariq and the truth of Aziza's parentage. This friendship became a lifeline, a small sanctuary of trust and affection in a world of violence and deprivation. But the year also brought a new fear: the Taliban's raids on homes to confiscate banned items like televisions. Mariam and Laila dug a hole behind the toolshed to bury the TV, a desperate act of concealment that foreshadowed the even more desperate measures to come. In Laila's dreams, it was Aziza they were lowering into the ground, a nightmare that reflected the constant, gnawing fear of loss.