Taban spoke in English again. ‘She won’t be able to go to school even if you succeeded in getting a school built next door to her home because, like all the children born here, the government won’t give her an identification card, and without that she can’t go to school. In any event, her family can’t afford to send her. They need her to beg.’
‘What can be done?’ Daniel said in English, standing again and looking from Taban to Sofia.
‘Your UN could make the government give the children identity cards so they might at least have the opportunity to go to school if they could find the money. Could you do that?’
Aisha had been watching the adults talking, looking from Taban to Daniel with no idea of what they were saying. She looked up at Daniel, her hands together in supplication again. ‘Can I go to school?’
‘I hate it when they do that. I hate it when they beg. She’s learned that on the street,’ said Taban in English.
Aisha turned to Taban. ‘Taban jan, if my government builds the school, will you tell me so I can go?’
Taban looked at Daniel. ‘What am I supposed to tell her?’
Daniel and Taban stood looking at each other. He had no answer.
Taban turned to the little girl and spoke in Dari. ‘I will tell you, Aisha. I promise.’
As Aisha ran off, Taban turned back to Daniel. ‘We need medical assistance, access to good food and clean water, identity cards for these children, health awareness, better midwifery, infant care, sewerage, streets and streetlights and police – there’s a lot of crime here at night. You name it, Dr Abiteboul, we need it, and the kids need to be able to afford to go to school.’
‘I understand.’
‘Do you?’ Taban stopped. They had reached the point where she was to leave them. Taban was looking up at him again. ‘Do you really? I’m not meaning to be rude, because I think you’re sincere, but isn’t this just another desperate place competing for the UN’s resources? Can you see us as any different, or any more needy, or worthy? Did Mirwais’s plight move you? Did any of them move you? Do we matter to you? Because that’s what I’m trying to do here – I’m trying to make these people matter to you more than the next terrible place you go to and the next terrible stories you hear.’
‘I’m looking to help people or organisations like yours that are already on the ground, who know what the priorities are and how to move through the regulations, and who can absorb and respond to what we can give them quickly and efficiently.’
‘My clinic’s too small for your important organisation to fund.’
‘Not necessarily.’
Taban laughed. ‘That’s what they all say, but we continue to wait.’ She held out her hand for Daniel to shake. ‘You’ve been a witness to our suffering in a small way, Dr Daniel. Please don’t let that be all you do. Just pick one thing – one thing you think you might be able to help us with and that would be enough.’
As they were about to part, Sofia asked Tawfiq and Daniel to head back down to the car and she’d catch up with them. ‘Any news about Rayi and if there are any other boys?’ Sofia asked as Daniel and Tawfiq walked away.
‘No, but I’m thinking we can’t wait for the police anymore. We have to try to find them ourselves before more boys are taken.’
‘Where do we start?’
‘God knows,’ Taban said, looking around her as if to say you could start anywhere.
‘I believe Jabril’s spoken to Chief Wasim, or was going to, but I’ll talk to him also. To change the subject, do you happen to know an African woman called Clementine who works for MSF?’
‘Sure.’
‘What can you tell me about her?’
‘In what sense?’ asked Taban.
‘She says she’s interested in organising the MSF facility in Kandahar to take over the training of the midwives.’
‘If that’s what she says, believe her. She’s a dragon lady, but she gets things done.’
* * *
‘I KNOW IT’S short notice,’ Daniel said as they neared the UN compound where they were to drop him off, ‘but I was wondering if you’re free tonight for dinner?’
‘Oh,’ Sofia said, pulling a face as she turned in her seat to look at him. ‘I really would have loved that but I’ve got a fundraiser tonight for a new orphanage.’
‘Well, maybe another time.’
‘It happens to be at your hotel,’ she offered, thinking of suggesting they have a drink together before or after the function.
‘Do you think if I throw my weight around they might let me in?’
Sofia shook her head as if disappointed by his suggestion. ‘I don’t think so, Daniel, but maybe if I throw my weight around you might have a chance.’ She couldn’t help laughing at the surprise on his face. ‘My boss happens to be on the committee for the orphanage,’ she added.
‘Please, by all means, use your influence on my behalf, and maybe we can have a drink afterward?’
After dropping Daniel off, Sofia was sitting in the back of the car smiling to herself when she remembered Tawfiq and looked up to see him watching her in the rear-vision mirror. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
Sofia could see the smile in Tawfiq’s eyes.
21
‘I’LL NEVER GET used to it,’ Tawfiq said as they drove into the square.
Sofia knew what he was talking about. ‘I quite like it,’ she offered, looking at Behnaz’s turquoise gate.
Three months previously Sofia had returned from her annual holiday in Sydney to find Behnaz’s old brown gate painted vivid turquoise. When she complimented Behnaz on the gate’s makeover the only response she got was a ‘humph’. When she queried Behnaz about the colour choice she got the silent treatment. It was left to Iman to fill Sofia in on the scandal of Behnaz’s turquoise gate.
Behnaz’s nephew, who had been
