Behind the Burqa by Dana (Smith ’93) Daniels

AP/Elizabeth Dalziel
Despite advances in women's rights since the fall of the Taliban regime over five years ago, most Afghan women, especially outside the capital, still wear the all-enveloping burqa.

We’ve coined a new term in our home: “bookjacking.” I’ll define it with an example. My husband, Jim, brings home a few books he’s hoping to read. I browse the titles in case there’s anything that interests me. If there is, I settle in my reading chair and begin the book.

When he returns to claim his new read and discovers my nose buried in its pages, he understands the look that communicates, “Back off, for now this book is mine.” And with that, I’ve successfully “bookjacked” another book. This was the case during the summer of 2006 when The Kite Runner by Khalid Hosseini appeared in our home.

As the story unfolded, I found it difficult to put down and began completing tasks as quickly as possible in order to resume reading. I read it in three days, quite an accomplishment considering I was also caring for my two children, then 8 months and 3-years-old. The story, partially set in Afghanistan, is fictional, but I began to suspect there was truth behind the circumstances Hosseini described.

I realized I knew very little about Afghanistan and was compelled to learn more, so I searched Amazon.com and visited the public library in pursuit of books that could educate me about the country’s history and culture. For two months, I was consumed with learning about this land and its struggles over the last several decades. As I read multiple accounts of the cruelty women endured during the Taliban’s reign, I was ashamed of my ignorance and troubled for women who lived in a society where they were so devalued.

I wondered aloud to Jim, “Why have my eyes been opened to the struggles of women in this country?” My husband, a pastor, gave a response I should have anticipated. He suggested I pray for an opportunity to respond to what I’d learned. I did—for a while—but the busyness of life crept in, and thoughts of Afghanistan moved to the perimeter of my life. My interest quickly rekindled, however, after reading Hosseini’s second book, A Thousand Splendid Suns. I resumed my prayer of “Now that I know, what should I do?”  

Fast-forward to August 2007.  I’m now working part time in Northwestern’s public relations office. I open an e-mail from English instructor Deb Menning. She’s informing us about a service-learning project. I snap to attention as she describes it. Her College Writing class would learn about various forms of injustice faced by women worldwide, particularly Afghan women. Students would also read Hosseini’s books and craft a writing project to offer encouragement to a few Afghan women. I hit reply, explain my interest in Afghanistan and beg Deb to let me be involved.

Last November, I joined her students for an extended class period that included a conference call with workers in Afghanistan and a meal at Deb’s home. Our Afghan meal was prepared by several women who’d lived in Afghanistan. They shared stories, answered questions and confirmed fears about the ongoing struggles for Afghan women.

Toward the end of the meal, one woman held up a burqa. I stared at it, seeing it as a physical representation of the nearly total imprisonment women experienced throughout the Taliban reign. I’d recently been reflecting on a passage from Isaiah that describes bestowing upon someone “a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Isaiah 61:3, NIV). This garment had bestowed discouragement and despair on the women of Afghanistan, and I realized how I longed for them to know something different.

After that experience, I had to take action. I’ve become an “e-mail friend” with a young woman preparing to serve in Afghanistan. I’ve also begun receiving specific prayer requests for this country. Jim and I decided to pledge both financial and prayer support to someone actively serving among Afghan women, and I was even invited to join a group traveling to Afghanistan this spring. Although I won’t be going this time, I am praying for courage to obey if God ever desires for my feet to touch the soil of this land.

I now have a heart invested in Afghanistan. Maybe I got what I deserved; after all, I did “bookjack” the book that sparked this interest. I’ve noticed a new book in our home. It’s about the conflict between Palestinians and Jews. I’m almost afraid to open it.

Dana Daniels worked in Northwestern’s admissions office for five years. Now a member of the public relations staff, she serves on the National Alumni Board and the 125th Anniversary Committee.