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      (Basic plot of story
 * Afghan family choose to move because of harsh enviroment
 * large family of 5 children
 * Father hates family and ends up killing one of the small children and injuring other girl badly
 * Father is pro-Taliban
 * Eldest boy captured by army
 * Family (mother, eldest girl and youngest) leave

Future ideas It is very tragic and most people die..... but some Afghans loose all of family
 * Eldest son rejoins in Pakistan
 * Fathers friends find out where he is and kill him in fight
 * Mother gets letter that injured girl still in Afghanistan gets killed by mine
 * family reaches New Zealand with only mother, eldest girl and youngest boy)

I found some true afghan names on the web Boy=Hamasa =heroic act Girl=Asal =honey Girl=Muzhdah =wonderful news Girl=Hasti =existence Boy=Rashidi =rightly guided

Hated lives

outside the city, the desert sand lashed out against the walls, as if releasing the frustration, the anger and the hate for the unjust war and Taliban interference which affected everyday lives. For as long as anyone could remember, Afghanistan had been the victim of tragic war circumstances, the nation had been ruled by inhumane leaders, cruel, evil rulers, men with unnatural desires.


 * CHAPTER 1 **

Kabul…………….

On the third floor of a building, clearly bearing the evidence of war tragedy, Asal glanced out over the city ruins, strongly displaying the marks of war. Behind her and in front of her, the proof of unjust behaviour lay, in the room where she stood, and in the city out below…... In her arms, her baby brother Rashidi lay, silent, very much aware, despite his young age, of the situation. Asal’s two upset younger sisters huddled around her, sadly watching their mother, who lay on the floor, cringing and whimpering taking the cruel force of her husband’s angry blows. Asal’s elder brother, Hamasa was vainly attempting to protect his mother from the harsh, swift strikes brought by his father. The terrified sisters had been ‘taught’ long ago not to interfere. For once, their mother agreed with this advice and insisted that her five children stay well back during their father’s violent fits of anger. But Hamasa refused to watch his mother unjustly and harshly beaten by her own husband, so insisted that he would, perhaps vainly, attempt to protect his mother. Nothing could be done lawfully to prevent such harsh treatment, as the government fully approved of husbands maltreating their wives according to the man’s wishes. Woman and girls have no place…...

Later that day her father was gone attending to his military business affairs. Asal noticed the dramatic change in atmosphere that day. The small apartment seemed very calm and undisturbed. It was only later when he did return that tension re-established itself. The later meal was very quiet, and Asal’s father kept on glaring at his family. He was a cruel man, who sided entirely with the Taliban’s theories and voiced that opinion very clearly. Asal wondered if it was only because of what the Taliban could do to him physically and financially. He was a bully, and like all bullies, was a coward. He fought only that which was weaker than him, sidled up to the powerful men of Afghanistan, and ignored everyone else. Although he had charming manners and intelligence, he was a very cruel man. The only person he truly loved was his youngest son.

Rashidi was the only child who Asal’s father did not despise. His little son was very quiet, (he hardly ever cried,) and quite adorable, naturally Asal’s father loved him, he considered the little child a treasure beyond replacement. And yet he despised the rest of his family. He loathed his wife, and because the marriage was arranged, she had had no choice but to marry as her former family commanded it. If she had attempted to escape and run away, she would be soon brought back and would live the rest of her life with even less freedom and love with her original family. So she was trapped, unable to escape, because it was quite beyond her power. It was as if her children and their father were completely different, as if they weren’t even related….... Their very lives were hated.

It was very dark when Asal woke and the only light to the room was projecting out from underneath the door. She stepped over her sleeping sisters and brothers and listened. She could hear nothing, nothing at all. Slowly and hesitantly she turned the doorknob and opened the door. Her mother sat alone, silently watching the entrance, and her father was nowhere to be seen. Asal slowly walked up to her mother and asked her gently what the matter was. She was answered with silence... ‘Where is my father?’ enquired Asal. ‘Out,’ whispered her mother. ‘Where?’Asal demanded. ‘In the city.' 'But it's late, and dark' she protested. 'To your father, it doesn't matter; he has gone to see some friends.' 'In the middle of the night?' 'He says it is urgent.' 'What is?' '..//.//....Your father...has gone...I think he has gone to arrange taking...my only...youngest...son...away from me, his mother.' slowly replied her mother emotionally. '..........But........he is only a child.......Rashidi is still...very young.' Her mother replied with silence...


 * CHAPTER 2 **

In the morning when her father returned, he was smiling smugly, which did not indicate anything good. His 'arrangements' must have gone well. At about midday there was a knock on the door and two soldiers strode into the dingy apartment, their studded boots echoing against the concrete floor. Asal backed against the wall clutching her two sisters trembling, watching. Soldiers meant nothing good at all... 'Where is he?' one of the soldiers shouted, glancing around the apartment. Suddenly he pointed, and he and his companion briskly marched across the room... towards Hamasa. Both grasped his arms and violently thrust him towards the doorway. With his heels dragging against the floor, they pulled him out the door. Outnumbered, he glanced helplessly back at Asal as she began to run forward as if to protest. The soldiers dumped Hamasa outside on the steps and one turned towards Asal his rifle pointing directly at her, 'Do //not// interfere with the Taliban's wishes,' he commanded clearly to her. 'Leave my daughter!' her mother screamed, Slowly on of the soldiers turned, threatening her with his rifle, 'be quiet,' he barked, 'No! Leave my son, leave my daughter, leave us all alone!' yelled Asal's mother, 'Look what you have done for this country, nothing...nothing at all!' Her husband suddenly leapt out of his speechless surprise and jumped forward, he swiped his wife across the face violently and commanded that she be quiet and show respect. 'Even //you// side with violence, why don't you protect you wife from the interference of the Taliban?' screamed her mother 'Because //they// are right, their way suits Afghanistan,' shouted Asal's father, 'Yes...we, the Afghanistan people, //love// our lives ruined, we //love// our hopes destroyed, we //love// violence,' said her mother, her voice dripping with sarcasm. One of the soldiers leapt forward, anger clearly portrayed in his face....... Asal despairingly watched her mother and brother being marched down the street with the soldiers...Her mother screaming and yelling...

If the family was concerned, and tension was vividly present the day before, it was nothing compared to the emotionally different relationships towards father and his children. Asal's father wore a satisfied smirk for at least a week, as though the events could not have gone better. The younger children were terribly upset about losing their brother and even more tragically, their mother. The feeble lies which Asal provided, that she was sure that their brother alongside their mother would return safely, were in vain. Her two sisters were distraught and even Asal’s brother Rashidi whimpered in her arms. The grim reality still continued to haunt Asal, the Taliban soldiers did not guarantee safety and physical respect towards woman. They were all well known to resort to disturbing violence. Asal feared greatly for her mother, would she be able to escape the Taliban grasp…safe? .......And why did they take her brother?

For the next few days the apartment was very quiet, no one wanted to talk, as though it would truly conform the reality. Even the youngest were quiet and never complained at all. Then suddenly she returned again, her mother staggered into the apartment at night, cold and feverish. She had been released after about a week in prison. The family welcomed her and soon the youngest children were getting her comfortable and bringing her food. 'Why did you go?' enquired one of the younger children, 'To one of the prisons,' her mother replied and quickly changed the subject, 'What about Hamasa' Asal demanded, 'I don't know' replied her mother quietly, 'Why did they take him?' 'I think your father got him a position in the army and made out that he had deserter, so the soldiers came to 'recollect' him,' 'How did he do that?' "Your father has powers that many people do not have, nor wish to have,' replied her mother gravely, 'Will we see him again...ever?' Asal regretted saying that instantly because of her mothers wounded expression............Maybe they would never see him again.


 * CHAPTER 3**

Her siblings slumbered peacefully beside her in the small bedroom. Suddenly the room flared up with light and the sound of boots echoed noisily against the walls. As they sleepily opened their eyes they found the room full of drunks, among them their father, some of them were shouting as they staggered around the room. Below them lay the now four children ranging from Rashidi to Asal her two sisters were still half asleep. Asal quickly realised one of the serious dangers that the children were in, she quickly snatched up Rashidi and hurried out of the room calling her two younger sisters to get out of the room. The men sounded angry and it was not a good position to be stretched out on the floor, defenceless and helpless if something did happen. Most of them were strangers and they could do anything. Asal only knew a few of the people there; they were her father’s friends, an undesirable lot to be around, cruel, ruthless and horrible. In the main room she placed Rashidi on the carpet and straightened up to open the door because she heard her mother hammering on the door. As it was not safe for woman to be alone outside she hastened to open the door to let her mother in. She raced into the room and ran into the room where her drunken husband and his friend were. Asal followed after her....Her father and his friends were fighting violently, her two sisters were nowhere to be seen. They presumed that the two girls were lying underneath the fight. her mother charged, scattering the fighting drunks. On the floor lay Asals two sisters....they were not moving....Their blood was scattered all over the floor and the eldest girl had her face crushed into the floor. By the looks of it the two young sisters had been kicked, punched and trampled underneath the drunks. And all because they had lingered, they had waited to long....

Then the youngest feebly moved her legs and Asal's mother went over to her and knelt beside her. Before the drunks had a chance to react, Her mother started to pull The youngest out of the room. Together they managed to haul both Rishidi and the injured girl into the safety of a neighbour’s house. The lady who lived there was a widow and she tenderly began to dress the girls wounds. They were gravely serious and it appeared that she had lost one of her limbs. The blood was still flowing out onto the floor and it was a big concern wither she would live. Asal couldn't bear to watch, and took the task of minding Rashidi....

'What happened to my other sister?' enquired Asal, already predicting the answer, The widow replied quietly with the dreaded word...'dead'...

It was only then that her mother decided to leave. To leave behind all family bonds, to leave behind the memory of death and hate behind them. But the first thing was to find a place to stay, a place where her husband couldn't find them. She told the widow of her plan and a tempory place was arranged where her, her daughter and little son could stay. They made the hard dision that they leave the injured girl behind in the safety of the widow's house. They walked in the 'safe' concealment of the dark to the arranged house. It was small and cramped but it was far safer then the streets...


 * CHAPTER 4 **

For almost a week Asal's mother made dangerous plans to escape out of Afghanistan, across the boarder to Pakistan. Her best plan was to smuggle her remainder of her family into a truck going over the border. It was best to go unnoticed by the driver. It was worked out that it would take quite a few days and a lot of effort was put in for preparing the family. They collect the funds from the kind widow and the money was used to by blankets, food and water.....

Conclusion idea........ 2 and half years later..... The wind was very cold as she walked alone in the park, a vast comparison to that hot wind of her homeland. But she felt free! She wore no veil, she was safe, she was respected, and she had a life! But then it returned, she had lost her brother through tragic events, one of her sisters had gone, killed and her other remained in Afghanistan, possibly never to follow her and her mother. Wherever she went, the sadness would remain with her, the dreams would haunt her and the wrath for the Taliban would remain. Because of them, she had lost almost everything that meant something to her...Her three loved siblings who she would never see again. Even her mother who was strong mentally, suffered greatly the loss and would still mourn even many years later. But she was free, the sacrifice for freedom was almost unbearable, and she would always remember the loss....... Asal had never truly belonged to her homeland, Afghanistan, the bond between herself and New Zealand was far stronger. Although despite that, she was different, different culturally, different emotionally, the others hadn't seen death as constantly and frequently as her, they hadn't witnessed violence as cruel as what she had endured....and she looked different, she was a foreigner, she would never change. It wouldn't matter how good she spoke English, it didn't matter how consistent she was in 'obeying' the Kiwi culture........she would be always different................

...........................continued later........................

I found some true afghan names on the web Boy=Hamasa =heroic act Girl=Asal =honey Girl=Muzhdah =wonderful news Girl=Hasti =existence Boy=Rashidi =rightly guided