Support to Women in Afghanistan

Women may still face sexism in this country, but we do have freedom and can speak our mind. Unfortunately, this is not the case in many places. And in Afghanistan, the entire culture is against women - they are abused and treated as property with no rights.

In a recent Marie Claire article, "Why Are These Women in Jail?" women - and their children - are even imprisoned for many years for absurd reasons:

In Afghanistan, the most commonly practiced form of judicial "due process" simply requires two men to accuse a woman of a crime. Case closed. No burden of proof or defense. A group of respected male elders hands down the sentence. (Men also appear before this council, or jirga, but usually to settle debts or property disputes. Their wives and daughters are often traded and enslaved to resolve such debts.) For women, typical "moral crimes" punishable by prison—or death—include refusing to marry a rapist, having an affair (or simply getting accused of having an affair), and murder-by-proxy, wherein a male family member kills someone and assigns the prison sentence to a female.

An estimated 860 women are currently behind bars in the country, along with 620 girls between the ages of 12 and 17, and 280 children, according to the U.S. State Department and the Corrections System Support Program, or CSSP, a private U.S. contractor tasked with reforming Afghan prisons. Ninety-five percent of these women are convicted of "moral crimes."

Kinah, 21, is a striking beauty with the black-coffee eyes of many in Balkh Province. She sits in one of two rooms that imprison 40 women and 18 children, rocking her 6-month-old daughter, who is nestled in a sheet tied to a chair and bedpost. At age 6, Kinah was promised in marriage to a 40-year-old man, but at 16, she ran away, marrying a young man she loved. She is now a convicted adulteress and widow, as her former fiancé tracked her down and shot her husband. The murderer was sentenced to 10 years; Kinah was sentenced to 12. The room echoes incessantly with children's coughing. The courtyard offers the only escape, where tents serve as shelter from below-freezing temperatures. "Sometimes we have no milk for the children," Kinah says, holding her baby close.

For aid groups in the region, yearly budgets are slim. These groups stay afloat thanks to donations, intermittent federal grants, and iron-willed directors who often work without salaries.

It's frightening that this is happening to women. I wish they had the same freedom and voice that we have. One thing that can be done: buy one of their t-shirts for $25 ("Not Guilty" T-shirt). "The Afghan Women's Justice Project will send the proceeds to the nonprofits helping Afghan women and kids in prison. One shirt purchase buys a child's milk for a month or school supplies for 10 prisoners."

Perhaps buying a t-shirt seems like a very small way to help, but it does spread the message - and offers some support for a truly awful situation.

My Name is Not Those People

There is often a real disconnection from reality with people who are super rich. Working in social services, I see many people who struggle so hard, and get by on so little – and then get such judgment and lack of compassion from those that are so wealthy they aren’t even in reality anymore. Don’t get me wrong, there are many people who make great money who work really hard and really help people. But, there’s just too many super wealthy people who are incredibly disconnected making decisions that they don’t see the implications of.

I saw this wonderful piece framed on the wall at a local food bank that I took a client to. I think there are way too many generalizations that are made in this world. I have some wonderful clients who face terrible health problems, live on next to nothing, and work so hard just to survive.

I especially like: "I live with an income of $621 with $169 in food stamps. Rent is $585. That leaves $36 a month to live on. I am such a genius at surviving that I could balance the state budget in an hour." I can't help but wish that politicians could see this as well. By talking about cutting programs once again, they are not only not getting it, but are truly missing out on getting to know, understand, and help some pretty incredible people.

My Name Is Not "Those People
By Julia Dinsmore

My name is not "Those People."
I am a loving woman, a mother in pain, giving birth to the future, where my babies have the same chance to thrive as anyone.

My name is not "Inadequate."
I did not make my husband leave - he chose to,
and chooses not to pay child support.
Truth is thought, there isn't a job base for all
fathers to support their families.
While society turns its head, my children pay the price.

My name is not "Problem and Case to Be Managed."
I am a capable human being and citizen, not a client.
The social service system can never replace the compassion and concern of loving Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Fathers, Cousins, Community - all the bonded people who need to be but are not present to bring children forward to their potential.

My name is not "Lazy, Dependent Welfare Mother."
If the unwaged work of parenting, homemaking and community building was factored into the Gross National Product, my work would have untold value. And I wonder why my middle-class sisters whose husbands support them to raise their children are glorified - and they don't get called lazy and dependent.

My name is not "Ignorant, Dumb or Uneducated."
I live with an income of $621 with $169 in food stamps.
Rent is $585. That leaves $36 a month to live on. I am such a genius at surviving that I could balance the state budget in an hour.

Never mind that there is a lack of living-wage jobs.
Never mind that it is impossible to be the sole emotional, social and economic support to a family.
Never mind that parents are losing their children to the gangs, drugs, stealing, prostitution, social workers, kidnapping, the streets, the predator.
Forget about putting money into schools - just build more prisons.

My name is not "Lay Down and Die Quietly."
My love is powerful and my urge to keep my children alive will never stop. All children need homes and people who love them. They need safety and the chance to be the people they were born to be.

The wind will stop before I let my children become a statistic.
Before you give in to the urge to blame me,
the blames that lets us go blind and unknowing into
the isolation that disconnects us, take another look.
Don't go away.
For I am not the problem, but the solution.
And...My name is not "Those People."