Philobiblon: Nadia Anjuman: an update

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Nadia Anjuman: an update

I posted recently on the tragic case of Nadia Anjuman, the Afghan female poet apparently murdered by her husband.

In The Times today, Christina Lamb (author of The Sewing Circles of Herat)has a lovely piece about her, her work and the brave group of women and girls with whom she had studied through the Taliban years.

Her poetry alluded to an acute sense of confinement. "I am caged in this corner, full of melancholy and sorrow," she wrote in one "ghazal", or lyrical poem, adding: "My wings are closed and I cannot fly." It concludes: "I am an Afghan woman and must wail."


It is hard to know how much attention the case is getting within Afghanistan, but there are some suggestions that it might at least encourage the start of a debate about domestic violence.
"Unfortunately, this shocking act indicates there is increasing violence against women in our society," Ahmad Fahim Hakim, deputy chairman of the Afghan Independent Human Rights Commission (AIHRC), said, adding the security officials had not properly investigated such cases in the past.
"Only condemning is not enough, the government should take strict action to avoid such violence against women in the country," Hakim added.
Khalida Khursand, a local journalist and writer in Herat, said Anjuman’s killing demonstrated that violence against women was universal in Afghanistan, even taking place in intellectual families.

My experiences in Thailand suggest that international pressure and concern for international opinion can be a big help to local campaigners trying to address such issues. (Usually working against enormous local pressures.) It can only be hoped that the UN and other international groups will do all they can to keep up the pressure on the issue.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

DARK FLOWERS

(For Nadia Anjuman Herawi 1980 - 2005)


Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies
Sulphurous blooms burn, mutilate; blow bodies apart.
Tell me who are the war mongers, terror stokers – why, do innocents die?

The planet pirouettes on its bloodied axis
Missiles fly dragonflies of fire carted by hands hollow of heart
Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies

Bombs that can blast away towers and trees up high
Emit rays that scrape skin from scorched faces that smart
Tell me who are the war mongers, terror stokers - why do innocents die?

In times of jittery Peace we’re living with war, Why, I ask, why?
Guantanamo Bay, Abu Ghraib, live walls and camps, state-of-the-art
Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies

On continents and seas of plenty, people war, starve and die
Who attached price-tags to land, diamonds, coal, oil, water and art?
Tell me who are the war mongers, terror stokers - why do innocents die?

And you, my Dylan, scintillating star in the nightsky
I thank, praise you now for villanelles that sting and dart
Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies
Tell me who are the war mongers, terror stokers – why do innocents die?

Deela Khan
7 September 2006

10/02/2006 09:43:00 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am posting a revised version of my tribute to Nadia Anjuman Herawi:

DARK FLOWERS

(For Nadia Anjuman Herawi 1980-2005)

Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies
Sulphurous blooms burn, mutilate; blow bodies apart.
Tell me who are the warmongers, terror stokers–why do innocents die?

The planet pirouettes on its bloodied axis
Missiles fly dragonflies of fire carted by hands hollow of heart
Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies

Bombs blast away towers and trees up high
Emit rays, scrape skin. Scorched faces smart.
Tell me who are the warmongers, terror-stokers–why do innocents die?

In times of jittery Peace we’re living with war, Why, I ask, why?
Guantanamo Bay, Abu Ghraib, live walls and camps, state-of-the-art
Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies

On continents and seas of plenty, people war, starve and die
Who attached the price-tags, carved land, diamonds, coal, oil and water apart?
Tell me who are the warmongers, terror-stokers–why do innocents die?

And you, my Dylan, scintillating star in the nightsky
I thank, praise you now for villanelles that sting and dart
Dark flowers come blazing from the night skies
Tell me who are the warmongers, terror-stokers–why do innocents die?

Deela Khan
7 September 2006

10/14/2006 11:58:00 am  

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