By Gayle Tzemach Lemmon
WeNews guest author
Sunday, April 3, 2011
After the Taliban took control of Afghanistan in 1996, Kamila Sidiqi was housebound, but managed to start a thriving tailoring business. This excerpt from Gayle Tzemach Lemmon's new book, "The Dressmaker of Khair Khana," shares how Sidiqi also helped others
(WOMENSENEWS)--After breakfast one morning Kamila heard the gate rattle. She had been up since 6:30 finishing the beading on a dress for Ali. The girls looked around to see whether anyone was expecting a visitor before asking Rahim to see who was there. They waited anxiously until their brother returned to the sitting room with a tall woman with long brown hair and one of the saddest but most serene faces Kamila had ever seen. Kamila guessed she was around 30 years old.
"Kamila Jan," said Rahim, "our guest is here to see you."
Kamila held out her hand and kissed the stranger in the traditional Afghan show of respect, three times on alternating cheeks.
"Hello, I am Kamila," she said. "How are you? May I help you with something?"
The woman was pale and looked exhausted. Light brown circles hung beneath her eyes.
"My name is Sara," she said. "I've come here hoping you might have some work." She stared down at her feet while her words came out in a slow and melancholy succession. "My cousin's neighbor told me that you are running a tailoring business here with your sisters and that you are a very kind woman. She said that your business is doing well and that perhaps you could use some help."
Just then Laila arrived and handed a glass of steaming tea to the visitor. She moved a small silver bowl filled with bright taffy candies in front of their guest.
"Please, sit down," Kamila urged, pointing toward the floor.
Sara lowered herself onto a pillow. Gripping her glass tightly, she began to explain how she had ended up in Kamila's sitting room.
"My husband died two years ago," she said, her gaze focused on the tasseled corner of the carpet. "He was the director of the high school Lycee Ariana. One afternoon he came home from school saying he didn't feel well. He went to the doctor that afternoon to see what was wrong and he was gone a day later."
Kamila nodded, warmly urging her guest to continue.
"Since then, my three children and I have been living with my husband's brothers here in Khair Khana. My daughter is 5 and she is disabled. My sons are 7 and 9. My husband's family is very kind, but there are 15 of us at home to support and now my brothers-in-law are facing their own problems."
"I have to find a way to support my children," Sara told Kamila. "I don't know what else to do, or where else to go. My husband's family can't care for us much longer and I don't want to be a burden to them all. I must find a job."
Pausing only long enough to take a sip of tea and to make certain that Kamila was still listening, she went on: "I am not an educated woman and I've never had a job before. But I know how to sew and I will do a good job for you. I promise."
At first Kamila was too moved to speak. The Taliban took control of Kabul in September 1996 and everyone who had remained in the city had a similar story. Lately she had been feeling a growing sense of responsibility to do as much as she possibly could to help. Her father had told her, and her religion had taught her, that she had a duty to support as many as she was able. Right now that meant she must quickly build upon the modest successes they had achieved so far. This business was her best--and right now her only--hope for helping her community.
"Let's get to work, then," Kamila said, regaining her composure and finding comfort in her own practical approach. "What we need most right now is a supervisor who can watch over everything and help me make sure all the orders are filled and the sewing is done well."
Sara, now smiling for the first time since she walked through the door, would be their first official employee.
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