When Jabril had learned of the brothers’ demands he had paid the three, who then still lived in Kabul, a social visit. The brothers soon discovered that the rotund little doctor wanted to talk only about the five pillars of Islam, professing a special interest in the third pillar, zakat, or almsgiving. The brothers, who unlike Jabril really were devout Muslims, could find no offence with such a subject, and after his visit had begun supporting their sister’s work financially, soothing their natural predispositions to hoard and exploit with the promise of a greater reward in Jannah. Describing her brothers’ new-found generosity toward the clinic, Taban had told Dr Jabril with a smile that it was nothing short of another one of Allah’s great miracles.
‘Praise be to Allah,’ Jabril had agreed, eager to escape before Taban started thanking him. Despite all his good work, Jabril still had no idea how to take a compliment.
Considering the success of Taban and her brothers, Sofia thought there must have been an intelligence gene somewhere in the family but it had obviously bypassed Taban’s mother, while the compassion gene had clearly bypassed everyone except Taban.
‘Welcome, my friend,’ Taban said as she and Daniel reached the clinic.
‘Why do you have a clinic so far up the slope?’ Sofia asked between laboured breaths, wiping her face with the end of her scarf.
‘Why do you ask this same question every time? The need does not always happen at the bottom of the mountain. Dr Daniel,’ Taban said, turning to him, ‘welcome to Jamal Mina and thank you for making the effort to trek up to my little clinic.’ Stepping back, Taban pulled aside the cloth from the doorway for them to enter.
The interior’s mud walls had been thinly – and somewhat haphazardly – painted white by Taban, with the roller strokes still visible. The mud floor was a sickly brown-green, while through an open door Sofia could see the two cots Taban had scavenged from the US military, covered in white sheets for their next patients.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to offer you to drink until Parsa arrives with the water.’ She held out her hands in apology. ‘Unfortunately, the government has supplied us with pipes to carry water but not the water to go through them. Now you must tell me, Dr Daniel,’ she said, sitting cross-legged on the floor opposite them, ‘what is it you want to know?’
‘I want to know what you will need here in Jamal Mina when the foreign troops pull out.’
Taban laughed. ‘Nothing will change when the foreign troops pull out. Yes,’ she said, waving toward the beds in the next room, ‘from time to time they have given me a bed or some medical supplies, and I’m grateful for that, but we don’t see them here. So to answer your question, there are many things we need: jobs, health care, sanitation, running water, equality, protection, education for girls and the end of gender violence. But this is not what you came here to learn, is it?’
‘You’ve already told me something important: that you don’t get enough help and that won’t change with the withdrawal of the foreign troops.’
‘I would like to know what your conclusions are from what you have seen so far in my country,’ Taban said as she innocently flattened out the folds of her skirt with short, bony fingers before pulling down the sleeves of her shirt to cover her wrists. Sofia knew the question was a test. Taban had seen too many Westerners arrive in her country and after ten minutes make decisions about what should happen. Taban would not waste time on Daniel if he were one of them. She was also not above telling him to leave.
‘You’re the one who knows Jamal Mina. I need you to tell me.’
Satisfied with his response, Taban stood. ‘Come with me.’ If someone was serious, Taban believed it was better to let them see Jamal Mina for themselves. That way they were left with powerful, visual and emotional images that would stay with them far longer than any fine words she might offer. As they were standing, Tawfiq arrived with Parsa, who was carrying a large jerry can of water balanced high on his shoulder.
‘Ah, the tea has arrived,’ declared Taban. On seeing Parsa’s confusion she told him not to worry. Before she introduced Parsa to Daniel she spoke with him in Dari, explaining that Dr Daniel was a very important man and that they needed to impress him because he might be able to help them. Sofia cringed. She should have warned Taban that Daniel spoke perfect Dari.
‘Ah,’ Parsa said, looking over at Daniel again and nodding.
‘We’ll wait outside,’ Sofia said, hurrying Daniel and Tawfiq out while Taban gave Parsa his instructions for the morning.
Outside the clinic they looked down on the flat roofs of the houses of Jamal Mina. In summer these were used for drying fruits and for the men to sleep on the hottest nights, but in winter they were often deserted. Halfway down the hill that day they could just make out an old woman sitting cross-legged on her roof weaving on a loom, while to the left of her two little boys were trying unsuccessfully to launch a kite. In the sky above a hawk was circling, gliding ever higher in the updrafts.
‘Have you been back to the village?’ Sofia asked him.
Daniel turned to look at her. ‘No. You?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve often thought about it.’
‘It was a strange time for me …’ Daniel began, but before he could finish Taban came out with a package tucked under her arm.
‘Let’s go,’ she said.
As they set off at a brisk pace
