likely the husband would not be prosecuted in such a case or, if prosecuted, get anything more than a toke punishment. 16
“I believe the two families reached an agreement, but I’m not sure,” said Khadija Yaqeen, the director of women’s affairs in Baghlan Province. “We don’t care what deal or interfamily agreement is made or will be made. Someone was killed, and there has to be an investigation so that justice is done in Amina’s case.” As in so many similar ones, that apparently never happened. 17
In Bamiyan nearly two months went by after the court hearing. In the end Zakia’s father forced matters to a head by formally requesting that the court in Bamiyan transfer Zakia’s case to Kabul. There, he thought, he would get a better reception, since police and government officials in the capital would not be Hazaras but Tajiks or Pashtuns, and if a judge ordered her returned to the family, the police would obey. “We talked with the girl and got her consent to transfer her case to Kabul,” said Zaman. Zakia of course said she gave no such consent and that the impending transfer precipitatedher decision to escape, which she did the night before it was scheduled.
Coming so soon before the transfer, the elopement, Zaman felt, had to have been staged by women’s-ministry officials. “We were not even allowed to meet her in person, so we talked to her on the phone and got her consent,” Zaman said. “She agreed to come home. She is not guilty at all. It is the women’s director, who thought she might be in trouble due to her involvement in the case, who decided to help them escape. Otherwise how can a girl from a shelter which is guarded by police 18 escape? It must be direct involvement of that woman and others who arranged her escape.” Fatima Kazimi and Najeeba Ahmadi denied Zaman’s claims, as did Ali and Zakia later on.
Unknown to them all, however, Zaman’s appeals to move the case to Kabul had nothing to do with the impending transfer. Shukria Khaliqi, who was then a lawyer with the group Women for Afghan Women (WAW), had heard about the case and formally requested that it be moved to the capital, with the approval of women’s-ministry officials in Kabul and women’s advocates in the attorney general’s office. In Kabul they thought they could find a court with judges who were lawyers and who had a passing acquaintance with the law. Shukria was convinced she could win the case for the couple. Then, although they would still be at risk of attack from Zakia’s family, there would be no legal impediment to their marriage and no justification for keeping Zakia in a shelter.
Before WAW could reach Zakia to tell her all this, however, the couple was already on the run. Zakia’s father pressed kidnapping charges against Ali, so they were fugitives not only from her family’s retribution but from the law as well. They were together, but as far as the Afghan police were concerned—and that included the police in Bamiyan—they were wanted criminals who needed to be hunted down. Fellow feeling among Hazaras goes only so far; a woman on the run would always be in the wrong in the view of Afghan authority of whatever ethnic background.
Once Zakia and Ali had escaped, however, they also became heroes to many Afghans, especially to women and young people.Najeeba Ahmadi of the Bamiyan shelter, while insisting she had no role in Zakia’s escape, nonetheless applauded her at the time it happened. “Her action shows that everyone has the right to marry according to their own will. She has tried to achieve her own wishes. Her resistance and bravery are a good example for all those women and girls who want to protect their rights. When women resist for their rights, they have the ability to achieve their goals. I don’t believe Zakia has done anything wrong. Her actions are admirable, and wherever she is, I wish her the best of luck and success in her life.”
Zakia and Ali themselves had modest goals.
“I believe the two families reached an agreement, but I’m not sure,” said Khadija Yaqeen, the director of women’s affairs in Baghlan Province. “We don’t care what deal or interfamily agreement is made or will be made. Someone was killed, and there has to be an investigation so that justice is done in Amina’s case.” As in so many similar ones, that apparently never happened. 17
In Bamiyan nearly two months went by after the court hearing. In the end Zakia’s father forced matters to a head by formally requesting that the court in Bamiyan transfer Zakia’s case to Kabul. There, he thought, he would get a better reception, since police and government officials in the capital would not be Hazaras but Tajiks or Pashtuns, and if a judge ordered her returned to the family, the police would obey. “We talked with the girl and got her consent to transfer her case to Kabul,” said Zaman. Zakia of course said she gave no such consent and that the impending transfer precipitatedher decision to escape, which she did the night before it was scheduled.
Coming so soon before the transfer, the elopement, Zaman felt, had to have been staged by women’s-ministry officials. “We were not even allowed to meet her in person, so we talked to her on the phone and got her consent,” Zaman said. “She agreed to come home. She is not guilty at all. It is the women’s director, who thought she might be in trouble due to her involvement in the case, who decided to help them escape. Otherwise how can a girl from a shelter which is guarded by police 18 escape? It must be direct involvement of that woman and others who arranged her escape.” Fatima Kazimi and Najeeba Ahmadi denied Zaman’s claims, as did Ali and Zakia later on.
Unknown to them all, however, Zaman’s appeals to move the case to Kabul had nothing to do with the impending transfer. Shukria Khaliqi, who was then a lawyer with the group Women for Afghan Women (WAW), had heard about the case and formally requested that it be moved to the capital, with the approval of women’s-ministry officials in Kabul and women’s advocates in the attorney general’s office. In Kabul they thought they could find a court with judges who were lawyers and who had a passing acquaintance with the law. Shukria was convinced she could win the case for the couple. Then, although they would still be at risk of attack from Zakia’s family, there would be no legal impediment to their marriage and no justification for keeping Zakia in a shelter.
Before WAW could reach Zakia to tell her all this, however, the couple was already on the run. Zakia’s father pressed kidnapping charges against Ali, so they were fugitives not only from her family’s retribution but from the law as well. They were together, but as far as the Afghan police were concerned—and that included the police in Bamiyan—they were wanted criminals who needed to be hunted down. Fellow feeling among Hazaras goes only so far; a woman on the run would always be in the wrong in the view of Afghan authority of whatever ethnic background.
Once Zakia and Ali had escaped, however, they also became heroes to many Afghans, especially to women and young people.Najeeba Ahmadi of the Bamiyan shelter, while insisting she had no role in Zakia’s escape, nonetheless applauded her at the time it happened. “Her action shows that everyone has the right to marry according to their own will. She has tried to achieve her own wishes. Her resistance and bravery are a good example for all those women and girls who want to protect their rights. When women resist for their rights, they have the ability to achieve their goals. I don’t believe Zakia has done anything wrong. Her actions are admirable, and wherever she is, I wish her the best of luck and success in her life.”
Zakia and Ali themselves had modest goals.
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