Introducing Nadia

Fund for Nadia
Nadia is a young Afghan girl who was badly injured during the fighting in Kabul in 1996. She began dressing as a boy to be able to work and support her family, and has lived as a boy ever since. She is badly scarred, and without reconstructive surgery, cannot begin a new life as a woman, as she is afraid that she will be recognized and punished for her deception. A surgeon in London has generously offered to operate on her for free, but the hospital fees are 350 GBP per day.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Nadia
PLEASE MAKE A DONATION NOW (see details)


Nadia is an Afghan girl from a poor family who has lived all her life in Kabul. In 1994, during the intense fighting between rival warlords for control of Kabul, the house where she lived with her parents, brother and 3 sisters suffered a direct hit from a rocket. Her brother was killed and she was severely injured.

Nadia is 19 years old now, and is still severely scarred: her face is disfigured by burns, one of her ears is missing and her hair has grown back only in patches.


The death of Nadia's older brother, the family's only breadwinner, was a terrible blow to the household. In his bereavement, Nadia's father lost his mind and has been unable to work since, while her mother developed heart trouble.


Once the Taliban took power in Kabul women were forbidden from working, leaving Nadia's family, together with many others, facing starvation. As soon as Nadia came out of hospital, the little girl dressed in her brother's clothes, took on his identity and looked for work dressed as a boy. She found work in the fields and on construction sites, and has been living as a boy ever since.


Nadia is still the only earner in her family of six, and still very few people in Kabul realise that she is a woman. She cannot imagine beginning her life as a woman while she is so recognizably scarred, and lives in daily terror of being unmasked. In Afghanistan, where gender segregation is still extreme, few would take kindly to her deception, and her life could well be in danger.


Her plight was discovered by HAWCA, an Afghan NGO who raised funds to educate this formerly illiterate girl. Thanks to HAWCA’s support, Nadia attended literacy, English and computing classes – reaching her last year of high school in less than half the usual time.


She is looking forward to undergoing surgery so she can finally begin a new life as a woman. She has many dreams – including becoming a human rights lawyer, seeing the sea and learning to ride a motorbike, but mostly she longs to become Nadia again.

HOW YOU CAN HELP

READ AN INTERVIEW WITH NADIA

OUR THANKS GO TO…

posted by Flora at 10:03 AM 0 comments

Monday, October 10, 2005
Help Nadia smile
We hope Nadia will be able to travel to London for reconstructive surgery before the end of the year. She will then graduate from high school on her return to Kabul and, insh’allah, enrol in university to study law. Here are some of the ways you can help us:
HOSPITAL FEES - A maxillofacial surgeon at St Bartholomew’s hospital, London, has generously offered to waive his fee to operate on her. The hospital, however, will probably have to charge us 350 pounds a day for their services, including medicine. This is the biggest single item on the budget, as the estimated medical bill is 5000 pounds.

ACCOMMODATION - We are looking for families kind enough to welcome Nadia into their homes while she is in London, and give her a loving home for a few weeks. Nadia is expected to spend about 3 months in London, and to spend some of that time in hospital.

TRANSPORT COSTS & OTHER EXPENSES - We will also need a return ticket Kabul to London for Nadia, to cover her visa costs and living expenses while she is in London.

FURTHER STUDYOnce these expenses are met, we will be looking for sponsorship for Nadia’s law degree, in the form of a small monthly stipend paid to her family to compensate for Nadia being unable to work.

DONATE NOW
Donations on Nadia's behalf can be paid into the following bank account, at the NatNest bank in the UK:
Account number: 86620290
Sort Code 60 17 12
Address: Nat West, Queen's Road Branch, Queen's Road, Clifton, Bristol


We would love to hear from you if you have any suggestions or offers of help – please post a comment or email us.

posted by Flora at 8:51 AM 2 comments

Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Our thanks go to...

THANK YOU to:

the generous surgeon at St Bartholomew's hospital, London, who will waive his fee to operate on Nadia, and gave us hope to begin this campaign

the four families who have offered to welcome Nadia in their homes when she is in London

the three people who have offered to shepherd Nadia round London, and interpret for her as needed

the people who have donated funds, and offered to fundraise on Nadia's behalf in Las Vegas, Germany, Canada, the UK and Italy

to the staff of Changing Faces, for offering psychological support and counselling for Nadia before and after her operation

to ASDHA in Spain, and to Monica Bernabe, ASDHA’s director, for supporting Nadia's family with a monthly allowance that is allowing her to continue her education


As of today - less than a week after launching this appeal - we have received pledges amounting to 9% of our target.
This is a wonderful beginning, and our thanks - on behalf of Nadia and her family, HAWCA and myself - go out to all of you.
Please spread the word among your friends if you have not already done so - 5,000 pounds - or 8,800 dollars - is not so much when shared between hundreds of people.
posted by Flora at 4:50 AM 3 comments

Nadia's journey
This is the journey Nadia will be making once we have raised enough money...
posted by Flora at 4:25 AM 0 comments

About HAWCA

info about HAWCA here

Interview with Nadia

Talking to Nadia

Nadia was recently interviewed for a short fundraising documentary. Here is an edited transcript.
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My name is Nadia Ikhlas, and I will be 20 years old this year. I am a high school student, I’m in 12th grade now, and I would like to go to university if possible, to study law.

During the fighting for control of Kabul in 1996, just before the Taliban won, I was wounded. A rocket hit our house, and my brother was martyred – he was 22 years old. I was young at the time, and I was in the house. When the rocket hit, I was badly injured, especially my head. Right now half of my head doesn’t have hair.

I spent a long time in the hospital. Gradually my father, day by day, developed mental health problems, until he completely lost his mental health, and they came to tell me in the hospital.

My father went mad because of my brother’s death, because at home, while I was wounded and in the hospital, we didn’t have anybody else to help us. My dad used to work as a book-keeper at the Ministry of Health. During the fighting, when there was no work, he stayed in the house, but he didn’t have the heart to say to my mother “Your son is dead”. He kept it closed up in his stomach, and slowly slowly he completely lost his mind.
My father would always tell my mother “your son’s gone somewhere” until she finally found out, and now she now she has a heart condition.

I discovered much sooner, when I was still in the hospital, that my brother was martyred and he wouldn’t be around any more, so I said to my visitors: “Bring me his clothes to wear when I leave the hospital”. What else could I do?

This was during the Taliban regime, and women had been forbidden from working.

When I came home in boy’s clothing, my family understood that they didn’t have any choice, none of us had a choice, as we had nothing for food, nothing. There was no need for them to say anything to me - we were all desperate for one bite of food. I was the only one who, to this day, fed my family, and there are 6 of us. I have three younger sisters.

I got a job pulling weeds in a field, for my family, and did I did all kinds of jobs to find my family some “nafaqa” (food) - digging wells, leading animals to market, working in the fields.
I was 9 years old when I went to hospital, and by the time I was ten years old, I was working.

Boys’ clothes

There are a couple of reasons why I wear boy’s clothing. First of all, because I was wondering how else we could eat, how I could get around without running into the Taliban. If I hadn’t worn boy’s clothes, no one would have let me work.

Also, half my head doesn’t have hair. If I had gone about as a girl, if I went somewhere to wash clothes or if I became a maid in a house it would have been too difficult for me. My ear is completely missing, and one eyebrow is missing, so I keep this cloth over my head, so no one finds out. Because of these wounds also I felt I had no choice but to put on boy’s clothing.
I have now been wearing boy’s clothes for ten years. Even when the Taliban left, the situation still wasn’t stable, and I was still working in the fields. When the Taliban left, there was still no one to help me.

School

I wanted so much to study in school like other people. And everywhere I went, I was known as a “boy”, I’m well-known as Izamaray around Kabul, everyone knows me as Izamaray.
Well, I could not find anyone who would allow me to study, so finally I had no choice, I went to a girl’s school and met the principal. I told her that I just wanted to study like this, I really want it. “If you want me to wear girl’s clothes, I will - I just want to study, at home there is no one to study with me”. Actually, I started crying a lot, I said please allow me to study. At the school, they told me that it’s ok to study with these clothes, just when you come to school wear a black shalwar kameez, a men’s one, and wear a black scarf, and just think about studying.
I did a placement test, and I was allowed to enter into 6th grade at first, but they moved me up quickly, and every year I studied two grades so that I am now in 12th grade. When I first entered school, I was almost 14 years old, and I had never been to school before, so I had a lot to catch up.

I was illiterate – I hadn’t studied anything until then, during the Taliban few children had the chance to go to school. Some boys went to school at that time, when I was working in the fields, and when they’d come home I would say “Come, let me see what your books are like”. When I’d find a newspaper I’d ask them what’s written here, read it to me, I was very interested. Also, I had been to Koran class in the mosque, where they didn’t know that I was a girl. So by the time I went to school, my eye had become a little familiar with the word, and I tried hard.

Working Life

I spent two years working in the fields, as a labourer. The farmer who gave me work had cows, and I herded them, and cared for them. When that work was finished, I went to dig wells so that I could feed my family.

In all these years, nobody ever found out by accident that I am a girl. I tried really hard to escape discovery, and every morning when I left for work I put my faith in God. Especially during the Taliban, if they’d found out that I was a girl, I would have been in big trouble.
I’d go very early to the fields, just after I’d prayed, and I’d have no conversation with the other workers. I’d say “Look, I’m here for work, I don’t have time to talk with you guys, when I have some free time I’ll talk with you”. I wouldn’t sit with anyone, and I’d try not to speak too much so they couldn’t tell from my voice that I’m a girl. I changed my voice when I spoke with them - I’d speak a little rough.

I’ve heard about the film Osama [about a girl who dresses up as a boy to earn bread for her family during the Taliban years], but I haven’t seen it. But I am sure that there were other people who did as I did, in those times.

I still can’t tell my co-workers and neighbours that I’m a girl, because they’d be too shocked – they have known me for years as a boy, and I have done things that girls never do. For example, in the middle of the night, before dawn I’ve gotten up, saddled the donkey, and gone to take the vegetables to market. I did this because I needed money, but the farmer wouldn’t let his own boys do this, because they were young. While his sons were sleeping, I’d already have gone out, sold the vegetables, and come back with the money”. If they found out now that I was girl it would be really difficult.

Now that the situation is better, of course I want to wear girl’s clothes. I want to hang out with the girls, my classmates, to go out and sit with them, but I can’t do this because now I wear boy’s clothes. Every second of the way when I go to school I am shaking with fear, hoping no one will see me, that the boys, or the people in the neighbourhood don’t see me and think “this must be a girl, she goes to a girl’s school”.

Strength and hope

What gives me the most strength is my mother and my father’s illness. I have to make myself strong so I can help them.

I have no one else, and they would not be here any more without me, just as I wouldn’t be there without them. The day they’re not here, I will kill myself, leave this world. I’m not happy to be alive because I’ve seen so many troubles, I worry a lot and become sad. Sometimes I think that maybe I should just hang myself and leave this world, every minute of it is so difficult for me. There’s so much worry in life, and so much fear outside.

Then I come home, and see my mom looking at me, I think no, I can’t do this, I must live. I start laughing with them, I sit with them, and say “Mom today this happened, I went to school, and that happened”…I don’t tell them of any of my sadness.

It’s always difficult for me, it’s been 10 years now. I often think about killing myself, and I think this thought will last as long as my fear. As long as I fear that someone else will kill me, or hit me for becoming a boy, when I was a girl… that’s why I’m always scared. I think, rather than let someone kill me I should kill myself. Always when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can’t go back to asleep.

I pace around in the yard, wondering what to do, what to do about my mom, my family…. If only I could become a girl again, if only no one would find out, not even my close friends, if only I could be sure things would not get worse.

HAWCA

Every morning I go to school, and in the afternoons I go to extra courses paid for by HAWCA. For one year, HAWCA has agreed to give me $150 a month, so that I can feed my family and don’t have to work, . When I have learnt English well, I will be able to work for HAWCA.
When I went to school I made friends with a girl in my class, who was the daughter of Engineer Sahib, who works for HAWCA.

When I first went to school, riding my bike and wearing this scarf, all the girls screamed when they saw me: “Allah, Allah! we’re scared of this! what is this?”. I would cry a lot, sitting in a corner. I was scared, thinking “God what’s happened to me, why am I like this?” Then a little girl came up to me, the Engineer’s daughter, she said “Don’t cry, God is benevolent, He has looked after your life so far”. That night when she went home, she told her father about me, and he invited me to HAWCA. Her father told me, it’s ok, we’ll help you until you can go back to wearing girl’s clothing, become Nadia, until no one will bother you any more.

My friends

Engineer Sahib daughter is my friend, and there’s another girl who sits next me, Nilab, she’s a great girl. They know that I wear boy’s clothing outside, and they know about my life difficulties and my financial difficulties, and they’re girls who really love me.

Every time I have difficulties, like when my father is sick, and when I take a look at myself and see in what fear I come to school every day, in what fear I leave school, I cry. But my friends never let me feel sad – every hour Nilab is near me and she always says “Don’t worry, everything will be OK”.

If you had seen me before, you would’ve wondered what’s wrong with me, I’d always shiver, I’d cry, I couldn’t calm down.

I have been getting better for two years now. For eight years, I was in a bad way - no matter who I sat with, I’d start crying. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t say two sentences about my life.
Now when I cry my classmates, Malalai and Nilab, say to me: “Just like you wear man’s clothing, you have to have the courage of a man”.

My mother too, when I leave the house says “My child, your name is Izmaray, you’re a lion, you shouldn’t worry about anything”. When I’m alone, on my bike, sometimes I want to start crying, but them I start laughing to myself and say “I shouldn’t worry, my name is Izmaray, I have to be strong”.

Almost everyone I know, 90-100% of people know me as Izmaray. Only in school and in HAWCA, they know me as Nadia.

My biggest fear is of being found out by my neighbours, because we live in a conservative rural area. Now I have many friends there, boys, who say: “Izmaray jan (dear), good for you, that you take care of your parents”. My friends say: “Izamaray jan, if you weren’t here, we would be sad”. One day when I was on the bike and a car hit me, and I broke my hand. All my friends came to the hospital and were saying “Izmaray, if something happened to you what would we do? We love you like our brother”. They’re all close to me, they walk with me like a brother.

But there are a lot of sleazy people out there, bad people – if I was known as a girl it would become difficult for me.

To become Nadia again…

It’s very difficult for me to change every day from girl’s clothes to boy’s clothes, from boy behaviour to girl behaviour. Right now, if it weren’t for my mental health, the rest of my life is quite good. I want to be a girl, but I am also afraid that it would be difficult, everyone would become savage…there’s no man in my house…

I want to move from my neighbourhood – the house isn’t ours anyway, and become Nadia, come back with girl’s clothing and sit with people, get up like a girl, go to work.

To become Nadia again, to return in girl’s clothing, my only thought is that I have to heal myself. If I wasn’t like this, so scarred, if my head had hair, it would be easier.

Then the boys would not recognise me any more, and I would be free. Now all the boys think that Izamaray is bald, because there’s always a cloth on his head, but actually half of my head has hair.

If this side of my face is healed, if my hair is fixed, so that no one can figure out that I used to be
Izmaray, I can go to a new neighbourhood and be Nadia again.

My biggest desire in life is to become better again, to wear girls’ clothing, go out with my girlfriends, and be Nadia.

When I have plastic surgery on my face, when my head has hair and my face is better, my new life will start.

In the future I’d like to be a lawyer, go to law school, and then become a judge. If there are other people like me who have seen difficulties, I could help them.