My Pen is the Wing of a Bird: An anthology of new fiction by Afghan women

My Pen is the Wing of a Bird is a collection of 23 short stories by contemporary Afghan women, many of whom are published here for the first time.

Most of the stories are originally written in Pashto and Dari, which makes My Pen is the Wing of a Bird more vital – because there has been very little literature written in indigenous lingoes from contemporary Afghanistan. 

The opening story, Companion, is one that many readers will relate to at different phases of their lives.

In this story, an old woman, Nuria, recounts her life as she takes readers through the memorabilia in her house. Nuria narrates how she has had to send off all her children to escape the war – and readers also get to witness her loneliness and constant fear of dying alone.

Kicking off this collection with this story is very important because it tampers with the non-Afghan tendency to look at the Afghan experience from the lens of ‘the other’. Through Nuria, the author generalizes this experience, reminding us that the Afghan people are more than just some casualties.  

"Most of the stories [in The Pen is the Wing of a Bird] especially squash that 'in-need-of-saving' tag that Afghan women have had to deal with for so long"

Many entries in My Pen is the Wing of a Bird are bittersweet albeit not focused on the war.

I believe these particular stories are further attempts at resistance – by the writers – because they stumbled on a rare chance to tell stories on their terms (in their mother tongues) and made the conscious judgement not to cater to the war narratives typically associated with Afghanistan.

Most of the stories especially squash that 'in-need-of-saving' tag that Afghan women have had to deal with for so long.

There is the story of Afah, a woman who is no stranger to grief and loss.

Afah manages to empower the women in her village and shame the misconception about women’s fragility. In Haska’s Decision, readers see a woman, Haska, who loses her beloved husband and sole provider.

She stands against an oppressive practice that corners widowed women into immediately marrying men from their dead husband’s family – to survive and feed their children.

How does Haska do this? Well, she empowers herself economically with the support of some women around her – and an unexpected gift from her deceased husband. Through Haska’s story, readers also witness how many women enable the oppression of other women, despite being victims of these vile practices. 

The characters in these stories are good and bad and layered.

I like that there are stories in the collection that depicted violent men in the community, just as much as there are stories where male characters loved and respected their women folks dearly.

Haska’s Decision is a strong example of this because the way the author portrays Haska’s grief after her husband’s death shows the depth of their love – and of course, her worries about the family’s financial state.

In another story, Sandals, a woman beseeches her husband to get their daughter new shoes. In response, the husband laments that he doesn’t even have enough to get shoes for the sons.

At this point, readers would expect the story to examine how misogyny affects even the rudimentary aspects of women’s lives – and rightfully so. However, upon arriving from his trip, the husband brings home a new pair of trainers, especially for the daughter.

The ending of this story wraps up this father’s undeniable love for his daughter, in spite of the patriarchal standards, with the ever-looming reality of living in present-day Afghanistan.

In Common Language, a group of young women unionizes to protect one of their colleagues from sexual harassment in their workplace and they lose their jobs in the process.

There is an unspoken strength that these women radiate for despite knowing that their boss will use several misogynistic tactics to shift societal opinion in his favour, they refused to cower to his oppression.

Even the end of the story is surprisingly optimistic because they believe strongly that they would find another job soon.

Some might see this optimism as the “masses’ opium”, but it takes a lot of courage to show up hopeful when the world around you is in disarray. Afghan women display this courage in their fight against societal and external misogyny sold to them as emancipation. 

Blossom is another story where readers see this unwavering courage on display through a young schoolgirl called Nekbakht. Students of Sayed ul-Shuhada high school who died in a school bombing inspired this story. 

Blossom also highlights the power of love to inspire and drive people even in the worst of situations. In contrast, What Are Friends For reminds us that humans are ultimately capable of horrible things in hard situations.

Here, a woman, Halima, betrays the trust of her close friend, while being aware of the deteriorating living conditions of the latter. In this story, like many others, the author does not spotlight the security situation in the country.

Rather, she uses an interesting analogy to remind readers of the ongoing crisis; when the betrayed friend finally processes Halima’s dishonesty, she throws a stone hard against the wall, and for days people posited that the sound was either an exploding bomb or a rocket falling.

To satisfy the part of me that always looks out for subtle references in stories, I could not help but note that friendship betrayals often feel like “exploding bombs” – a brilliant analogy indeed.

I could go on and on about the stories in this collection and how their simplicities will grip you in unexpected ways – forcing you to alternate between recoiling and rejoicing – but I will stop here to implore that readers pick this one up, learn from it, and come to live vicariously through contemporary Afghan women writing.

Aisha Yusuff is a book reviewer with a focus on African and Muslim literature. Her work can be found on @thatothernigeriangirl as well as in digital magazines like Rewrite London.

Follow her on Twitter: @allthingsaeesha