H., who is from a war-torn country, remembered how her father would spank the boys when they stole grapes or tried smoking (he didn’t want them to get addicted) but he never spanked the girls because he knew what it was like for women. As long as they were in the house he wanted to take care of them. This brought up a memory, and H. held me spellbound until she ended up crying at the end.
She told us about a girl back home whose mother died when she was born so her grandparents raised her in Iran. She came back to her country because she wanted to meet her birth father. She was 18 and she was very beautiful. “And coming back to my country is like going into a black hole” H. says. The girl’s father had been hooked on opium, like much of the country, and, when he saw how beautiful she was, he went to the drug warlords. He sold her for six month’s wages.
In the meantime, the girl, who knew nothing about this, had been learning to crochet at H.’s home from H.’s mother. Since their family had many children, the girl enjoyed it there, and H.’s mom had accepted her as part of the family. She had begun to even call H.’s mom mother. She went home one day, however, and the drug lord was there. Her father told her that this man, who was four times her age, was to be her husband.
The warlord pulled her hair and was going to take her when she cried and pleaded, and he said, “I’ve paid for you. Do you have the money to pay me back?” And she said she’d do anything, and she’d get the money. So, he left. She went back to H.’s home, which was next door (their homes even had a shared wall) and told her what had happened. H.’s mom got protective and asked her how much time the drug lord had given her. The girl said she had two or three weeks to get the money. H’s mom told her they’d come up with the money. All of them began crocheting hats every day and night to sell at the market. H.’s mother didn’t even eat. Even though they had barely enough money to feed themselves (her mother was the only one that was able to support the family at the time) H’s mother wanted to protect the girl because she was like their daughter. She was even going to talk with one of her sons about marrying the girl so she wouldn’t have to get married. She knew this was a very serious thing because the drug lord had a lot of power and this would put her son on the line. She had been staying until 11 pm, but those seven days she was staying all the time in their home for her own safety. The girl said she wanted to go check on her house and check on some things so she left.
When she got home the father locked her in her room and called the drug lord. He came and began pulling her hair and taking her out of the house. Finally, she stopped fighting and told him and her father to stay outside. She just wanted to go to her room and collect her things. There were four walls and she couldn’t escape.
When she got to her room she locked the door, poured gasoline on herself, and lit herself on fire. H., who was very young at the time, heard her screaming and went on the roof to look over into their house. She saw that her friend, who had long, beautiful hair, was burning. She ran and told her mother. Her mother ran next door and pleaded for her to open the door until H.’s mother, eventually, fell unconscious. Then the father, also, came inside. By this time he realized what was happening, so he, too, came in and also began pounding on the door and pleading with her to open it but to no avail. Finally, H’s youngest brother, who was very young at the time too, jumped down over the wall and opened the door from inside. They put blankets on her to stop the fire and took her to the hospital where she died two hours later. She could hear H.’s mom’s voice and would turn to look for her, but there was nothing they could do. H. said this really hurt her mom a lot and her mom was different after that.