From LA Progressive
On a recent Friday at the Afghan Peace Volunteers' Borderfree Center, here in Kabul, 30 mothers sat cross-legged along the walls of a large meeting room. Masoumah, who co-coordinates the Center's "Street Kids School" project, had invited the mothers to a parents meeting. Burka-clad women who wore the veil over their faces looked identical to me, but Masoumah called each mother by name, inviting the mothers, one by one, to speak about difficulties they faced.
From inside the netted opening of a burka, we heard soft voices and, sometimes, sheer despair. Others who weren't wearing burkas also spoke gravely. Their eyes expressed pain and misery, and some quietly wept. Often a woman's voice would break, and she would have to pause before she could continue.
"I have debts that I cannot pay," whispered the first woman
"My children and I are always moving from place to place. I don't know what will happen."
"I am afraid we will die in an explosion."
"My husband is paralyzed and cannot work. We have no money for food, for fuel."
"My husband is old and sick. We have no medicine."
"I cannot feed my children."
"How will we live through the winter?"
"I have pains throughout my whole body."
"I feel hopeless."
"I feel depressed, and I am always worried."
"I feel that I'm losing my mind."
The mothers' travails echo across Afghanistan, where "one-third of the population lives below the poverty line (earning less than $2 a day) and a further 50 percent are barely above this." Much of the suffering voiced was common: most of the women had to support their families as they moved from house to house, not being able to come up with the rent for a more permanent space, and many women experienced severe body pains, often a result of chronic stress.