The Dressmaker of Khair Khana (19 page)

I waited nervously for him to begin.

“Gayle Jan,” he said, “I wanted to meet you because I wanted to thank you. I always hoped that someone would come from a foreign country and tell my sister's story. She was so brave at such a difficult time, and she did so much for all of us--not just my own family but so many other families in Khair Khana and around Kabul. And she is the reason that all of us got educated. I wanted you to know how glad I am that her story will finally be told. And to thank you for coming here.”

For the first time since arriving bleary-eyed in Afghanistan that sunny December morning--for the first time ever on a reporting trip, I admit--my eyes teared. And I realized that Kamila's brother understood better than I did why, at this moment, telling his sister's story matters so much. Brave young women complete heroic acts every day, with no one bearing witness. This was a chance to even the ledger, to share one small story that made the difference between starvation and survival for the families whose lives it changed. I wanted to pull the curtain back for readers on a place foreigners know more for its rocket attacks and roadside bombs than its countless quiet feats of courage. And to introduce them to the young women like Kamila Sidiqi who will go on. No matter what.

Where They Are Today

Sara continues to work for the betterment of her family. Her two sons are enrolled in university, which makes her very proud, and her work allows her to afford a home for her family so she no longer has to be a financial burden on her in-laws. Today she and her children are living on their own in the capital. Sara continues to work as a seamstress while also serving as a cook and house manager.

Mahnaz went on to achieve her dream of becoming an educator. Though it was difficult for her to resume her studies after the five-and-a-half-year ban on girls' education, she persevered, taking the university entrance exam and landing a position as a young professor at one of Kabul's leading institutions of higher education. For two years after the Taliban departed, she continued to wear the chadri, finding it difficult to adjust to the change of being out on the street in a mere headscarf. Her sister, who also sewed with Kamila and her sisters, resumed her studies alongside Mahnaz and went on to become a doctor, just as she had always hoped.

In 1998, after nearly two years of Taliban rule, Dr. Maryam decided to move her family to Helmand province in southern Afghanistan, right next door to the seat of the Taliban. Few women doctors worked in that region at the time, and she was both adored and respected by her community for the services she provided. Taliban officials were also grateful for her work and for her willingness to leave Kabul, and they did nothing to interfere with the treatment of her patients. Many of them, in fact, brought their wives and daughters to her. Some of the women in Helmand whom Dr. Maryam hired and trained during the Taliban years went on to become nurses and midwives themselves, teaching others in their communities about the importance of protecting women's health. Dr. Maryam continues to work as a pediatrician and encourages her talented young daughters, who are now at the top of their own classes, to consider a career in medicine.

Rahela, Kamila's impressive cousin who helped to lead the UN Habitat efforts during the Taliban years, is now a senior government official. She is currently leading an effort to strengthen the country's civil service and, in between managing a demanding career and a family of young chil-dren, is also helping to organize and deliver microloans to wo-men in need in two provinces of Afghanistan. In the coming years she hopes to grow the program, which is funded by donations from local women leaders in the community.

Most of the women involved in the Women's Community Forums programs went on to become leaders in their fields. Many are serving in government, a number are educators, some are running their own community organizations, and others have succeeded in business. All credit the Community Forum program with helping them to discover their leadership potential and to prove to themselves that they did indeed have the ability to make a difference.

As for the UN Habitat Community Forum program itself, it became a role model for the new government's plan to develop rural Afghanistan. The National Solidarity Program built upon the Community Forum's democratic and ground-up model using new Community Development Councils to empower citizens to decide on local development priorities for themselves.

Ali and his brothers are still in Kabul. Though they no longer have their own stores, they continue to support their families and each other. And they refuse to take credit for the good work they did during those difficult years when Kabul's economy collapsed. Only one of the brothers has seen Roya, their former client, since the Taliban left and the government changed. This accidental meeting came in 2004 when Kamila found herself in a taxi with a driver she recognized. He did not recognize her, since he had never before seen her face, so Kamila/Roya introduced herself to Hamid. He marveled at meeting his longtime client and sent his best wishes to her family. Kamila returned his kindness and added that she and her family remained very grateful for all the support he and his brothers had offered them during the Taliban years.

As for Kamila's sisters, they, too, have forged their own paths, supporting one another and their own families. Saaman, who never forgot the joy and beauty of the novels and poetry that had so lifted her spirits through the difficult years, went on to make her family proud by completing her university studies and taking a degree in literature. Laila also successfully completed her university courses. Malika is now among the busiest women in Kabul, managing all at once to help her husband, raise four healthy children, work with Kamila at Kaweyan, and complete her long-deferred university degree. After sifting through years of memories to tell me about the women she worked with and sewed for during the Taliban years, she remembered the satisfaction she found in her tailoring work and was inspired to resume her dressmaking. She is now once again creating suits, dresses, and jackets for private clients, with help and support from Saaman.

As for Mr. and Mrs. Sidiqi, they continue to live in the north, enjoying the beauty of Parwan and relishing visits from their eleven children and dozens of grandchildren. Mr. Sidiqi remains among the most ardent and articulate supporters of girls' education I've ever met. As he often says, “It is much better to earn a living with a pen than with power,” and it is a never-ending source of pride to him that all his daughters have been educated. The youngest of his nine girls is now finishing her college studies in computer sciences.

Kamila's brothers also succeeded in their studies. Both men completed university degrees that were funded by their sister's work, and each expresses tremendous gratitude for his sister's encouragement and support--emotional as well as financial--over the past fifteen years. As Najeeb told me, “Besides being my sister, Kamila is my friend and a leader in our family.”

Afghanistan's future remained very much on the minds of Kamila and her family as they finally began to look ahead in our conversations, after so many months of looking back. Their belief in their country's potential is powerful, unflagging, and often, I found, beguilingly contagious. Kamila continues to dream big, working to grow Kaweyan and to become one of the nation's leading entrepreneurs. Each day she defies the many setbacks that face her and others who are trying to make a difference in Afghanistan: escalating violence, rising corruption, and an increasingly anxious international community whose work is now regularly aborted by security lockdowns and intensifying threats to its safety.

Women I have met want nothing more than peace. But they fear that the world is growing eager to reach a deal in which their rights will be part of the price of security. And they worry their country's problems will be balanced on their backs once more. Neither they nor the men I have interviewed in the past two years believe that an abandoned Afghanistan will remain an isolated problem for long.

With grace and dignity the individuals to whom this story belongs push forward each day. They believe, as they always have, that something better is possible.

I, for one, hope they are right.

After years of working with Afghan women as an entrepreneur and community leader, Kamila was invited to Washington, D.C., to address the U.S. Global Leadership Campaign's 10th Anniversary Gala Dinner. (U.S. Global Leadership Campaign)

This story grew out of reporting I began in 2005 during my first and second year of MBA study following nearly ten years in daily news. I believed then and believe even more strongly now that the stories of women entrepreneurs, particularly in countries fighting to recover from conflict, are worth telling. Not only are these courageous women working each day to strengthen their families and grow their economies; they are also serving as role models for the next generation of young men and women who can see firsthand and for themselves the power of businesswomen to make a difference.

I want to thank all the individuals interviewed who made this story possible. This begins with Kamila and her large and welcoming family, who crammed interviews into their busy days packed with work and children. They opened up their homes and shared their histories, and I am deeply grateful for their immense generosity and their unwavering hospitality amid even the most challenging circumstances. During the years of research and reporting on the story of Kamila and her sisters, I learned just how many young women went to work each day on behalf of their families during the Taliban years despite being shut out of classrooms and offices. The efforts of these unheralded heroines who joined NGOs, staffed home businesses, and taught classes at hospitals and homes around the city meant the difference between survival and starvation for many families. It is a privilege to me to share their stories of perseverance and persistence in the face of constantly evolving obstacles.

I offer my humble thanks to the young women who worked with Kamila. For many of them, I was the first foreigner they had ever met and ours was the first interview they had ever done. Despite their initial nervousness, they shared their experiences and their impressions from those bleak years whose memories haunt them more than a decade later. For them, Kamila's house was a refuge and a haven from their problems as much as it was their place of work. I have striven to stay true to both the facts and the spirit of these young women's stories: they were breadwinners and valued employees at a time when families had no place else to turn.

To the shopkeepers who worked with Kamila I owe thanks for not only their stories but their hospitality. They graciously sat for hours of interviews both at their offices and in their sitting rooms not because they found their own story at all compelling or welcomed the attention, but because they were glad to help the visiting foreigner who had so many questions about all the work they did so many years ago. Their lives have long moved past that period, but their humility, character, and courage have not dimmed with time.

To the women involved in the Community Forum programs, I want to offer my appreciation for sharing so many details about how and why the program proved so powerful. In listening to a formidable roster of forum alumni discuss their work, which served as a source of hope at so difficult a time, I saw just how much this Herculean effort to keep women working during the Taliban years meant to so many. Their sterling record of grassroots, community-owned organization, mobilization, and leadership is among the most significant success stories I have seen during years of tracking what works--and what doesn't--when it comes to development projects.

Heartfelt thanks to the dozens of international aid workers who lived in Afghanistan during the Mujahideen and Taliban years and who patiently shared their varied impressions of the period during late-night Skype calls with imperfect connections given our far-flung locales. This includes Samantha Reynolds, a leader of vision and conviction, who fought relentlessly for jobs for women even when many other international agencies had largely abandoned the idea. Her staff still remembers her as among the best and most praiseworthy managers they have ever had. Reynolds's boss at the time, Jolyon Leslie, also offered a powerful assembly of sharp insights, and I am grateful for both his time and his perspective. Sincere thanks also to Anne Lancelot and Teresa Poppelwell, Samantha's colleagues at UN Habitat. Lancelot's book, Burqas, foulards et minijupes: Paroles d'Afghanes, is a must for any reader seeking to better understand the lives of women during the Taliban period. Thanks also to Anders Fange, Charles MacFadden, Barbara Rodey, Pippa Bradford, Patricia McPhillips, Henning Scharpff, Norah Niland, and Anita Anastacio, all of whom took hours from their busy days to talk with me about their experiences managing aid and relief programs under the Taliban government.

A number of talented journalists and researchers also generously offered their thoughts, clips, and photos. Thanks to all of them, including Daud Qarizadah, Gretchen Peters, Niazai Sangar, and Amir Shah.

Nancy Dupree and her extraordinary staff at the Afghanistan Center Kabul University (ACKU) offered inordinate amounts of help when I was researching primary documents from the Mujahideen and Taliban years. ACKU offers documents that cannot be found elsewhere and has a knowledgeable and diligent staff whose assistance is invaluable. Research days spent sifting through archival material at a computer on the library's second floor were productive beyond imagining. Nancy's unrelenting vigor and dedication to doing good offers an example I hope to be worthy of one day.

Reporting from Kabul is a team effort. I want to thank my colleague Mohamad for his journalistic dedication and his commitment to excellence. This work would have been impossible without his translation assistance, his ability to navigate any logistical challenge, and his ready deployment of finely honed problem-solving skills. Thanks also to his wonderful family for their hospitality and their friendship. And to Saibrullah, a driver with a great sense of humor and an uncanny ability to remember any address, even years later.