We came to a security station. Four uniformed guards stood at the entrance, two men and two women. The mass of people slowly melded into three lines. Badriya took me by the elbow and led me past the others. She paused briefly when she came to the security guard, dressed in the same khaki color as her male counterparts but in a long skirt.
A woman guard. Just like Bibi Shekiba, I thought. I couldn’t help but stare at her face, wondering if she looked anything like the woman I’d heard so much about.
Badriya muttered a quick greeting and waved at her. The guard nodded and turned her attention back to the woman in front of her. She pulled her behind a partition.
“What are they doing?”
“They’re here for security. They’re checking people for weapons. That room back there is where the female guards check the women. We’re not supposed to bring anything into this building. And we’re not supposed to take anything out of it either.”
“We don’t have to go through the checkpoint?”
“Well, we’re supposed to but I don’t. The guards know me. And no one else from the parliament goes through either. We are the parliamentarians, after all! How ridiculous if we were to be patted down every time we walked in! I wouldn’t stand for it!”
I bit my tongue, knowing she would stand for it if she were ordered to.
Badriya smiled politely to a few people she knew. Two women, wearing dresses and longer head scarves, approached with bright and cheerful faces.
“Badriya-jan! Good to see you again! How are you? How’s the family doing?” They were of similar height and build and even face structures. But their ages differed by about ten years, the older woman’s face with more lines, her hair with more wisps of gray.
Cheeks pressed to one another, kisses in the air, an arm around a shoulder. The women greeted each other.
“Sufia-jan, qandem, salaam!” My eyes widened to hear Badriya greet her with such syrupy sweetness. “Thanks be to God, everyone is well. How are you and your family doing? And you, Hamida-jan? How are you?”
“Fine, thank you. Ready for another busy session?” Hamida replied. Her face was plain, unpainted and serious.
“Yes, I am. When do you think it will start?”
“They said we should be starting in half an hour,” Sufia said, scanning the entryway. She was the older of the two. There was gentleness in her eyes that put me at ease. “But my guess is that we don’t have enough people here. We’ll probably begin in about an hour. Maybe two. You know how it is.”
Badriya nodded politely and was silent.
She doesn’t know what else to say to them, I thought.
“And who do you have here with you? Is this your daughter?”
Hamida and Sufia were looking at me expectantly and smiling. I looked at Badriya and felt the urge to step away. I didn’t like the idea of her being mistaken for my mother. She didn’t like it either, but for different reasons.
“Her? Oh, no, she’s not my daughter. She’s my husband’s wife.”
“Your husband’s wife? Oh!” Hamida’s smile tightened. She disapproved.
“Have you brought her to see how the parliament runs?” Sufia asked, trying to distract us from Hamida’s reaction.
“Yes, er… she wanted to see for herself what it is that I do. That we do. So I’ve decided to hire her as my assistant.”
“Oh, she’s going to be your assistant! What’s your name?”
“Rahima,” I said. “I am pleased to meet you.”
“And we’re pleased to meet you as well,” Sufia said, looking impressed with my manners. “I think it’s a great idea for you to come see what the parliament does. Maybe you would want to join your… er… Badriya-jan and take a seat in the jirga. We need women to get involved in our government.”
Badriya nodded but looked uncomfortable.
“Why don’t you both come to the resource center tonight? After the session is over.”
Badriya shook her head. “No, we can’t make it. Some other time.”
“Why not, Badriya-jan? They have some instructors there who have helped us very much. Tonight we’re going to work on the computers. It’s not easy. You really have to spend some time to figure those machines out. It would be good to get familiar with it.”
“I know that. I’ve seen computers. It’s not that hard,” she said, her eyes shifting nervously.
The look on my face confirmed for Hamida and Sufia that Badriya was not in the least familiar with computers. Hamida decided to ignore the obvious lie.
“What else do they teach there?” I asked. I had been away from school for so long. The idea of instructors and lessons excited a part of me that Abdul Khaliq’s compound had buried.
“They teach lots of things,” Sufia said, happy to hear my curiosity. “How to speak English, how to do research, how the parliament is supposed to function…”
“It’s a school? Can anyone go?”
Hamida nodded. “You could come, as her assistant. It’s only for women parliamentarians. It’s run by a foreign organization and it’s open after the sessions end for the day. Maybe you can convince Badriya-jan to come along. There are too many people doing nothing in this building. We all need to do something more.”
“Excuse us, ladies. I want to show Rahima-jan around the building and then we’re going to get to our seats,” Badriya said, her fingers wrapped around my elbow firmly. She wanted out of this conversation.
I followed her lead but my heart lightened at the talk of classes. I was starting to taste the possibility of change here.
CHAPTER 40. SHEKIB
Shekib stood frozen.
“Don’t just stand there! She needs the doctor. Go and get Khanum Behrowen!” Halima threw her hands up in frustration. Shekib nodded and turned around but stopped short, realizing she had no way of summoning the doctor without walking right into the palace in the middle of the night. She turned back to the guards’ quarters.
“Ghafoor! Ghafoor, wake up. We need to get the doctor for Fatima. She’s ill and needs help.”
Ghafoor, the consummate guard, bolted upright and answered the call to take charge.
“She’s ill? Worse than before?”
“I suppose so. I haven’t seen her.”
“What? You haven’t even gone in to check on her? What were you… never mind! Karim, get up. Go and see how Fatima is doing. Take Qasim with you. I’ll go to the palace and ask for the doctor.”
“What should I do?” Shekib asked.
“Nothing. You can do that much, can’t you?” Ghafoor said with annoyance. She brushed past her and went to pull on her uniform quickly. She fastened her belt brusquely before shooting Shekib one last glare.
People from the palace will be awakened. I should resume my duties, she thought, and returned to her post outside the harem. Karim and Qasim soon walked past her and entered the harem. Tariq, hating to be alone, followed after them, her arms folded against her chest in the cool night air. She half smiled through tight lips as she passed Shekib.
Shekib tapped her foot. She could see the way they looked at her, the distance. The same look Khanum Marjan had given her — some pity, but no friendship.