Soon after the bombs stopped falling on Kabul, award-winning journalist and women's rights activist Ann Jones set out for the shattered city. This is her trenchant report from the city where she spent the next four winters working in humanitarian aid. Investigating the city's prison for women, retraining Kabul's long-silenced English teachers, Jones enters the lives of everyday women and men and reveals through small events some big disjunctions: between the new Afghan "democracy" and the still-entrenched warlords, between American promises and performance, between what's boasted of and what is. At once angry, profound, and starkly beautiful, Kabul in Winter brings alive the people and day-to-day life of a place whose future depends upon our own.
|Edition description:||First Edition|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.75(d)|
About the Author
Ann Jones is the author of eight books, including Women Who Kill, Next Time She'll Be Dead, and Looking for Lovedu. An authority on women and violence, her work has appeared in numerous publications, including The New York Times and The Nation.
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Kabul in Winter
Life Without Peace in Afghanistan
By Jones, Ann
Copyright © 2006
All right reserved.
On Thursdays, the Ministry for Martyrs and the Disabled gives out stipends to certifiable war casualties. Early in the morning, they make their way to the Ministry: women in faded, tattered burquas and men wrapped against the cold in pattus of military brown. They come singly or in twos and threes, assembling into a grave procession of the lame, the halt, and the blind. One-legged men, victims of land mines, hobble on their Red Crescent crutches. This is the country of one-legged men.
Officially disabled, they drag their shattered bodies over the rough pavements, stopping traffic at every crossing. They press on amid the honking horns, seeking no miracles, merely the wherewithal to make it through another week. Every day, the mines that salt the roadsides and the dead orchards and the fallow fields explode to create new martyrs and new casualties. Every New Year's Day, thousands of Kabulis visit a hillside shrine and somebody steps on a mine--this year, it was an eighteen-year-old boy who lost both legs. And every week, the Thursday procession grows longer and more belligerent. They are Kabul's most aggressive pedestrians.
Excerpted from Kabul in Winter
Copyright © 2006 by Jones, Ann.
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