
Summer 2009
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Seven
Summer 2009
“Your father is a great man.”
Adel looked up. It was the teacher Malalai who had leaned in and whispered this in his ear. A
plump, middle-aged woman wearing a violet beaded shawl around her shoulders, she smiled at
him now with her eyes shut.
“And you are a lucky boy.”
“I know,” he whispered back.
Good, she mouthed.
They were standing on the front steps of the town’s new school for girls, a rectangular light
green building with a flat roof and wide windows, as Adel’s father, his Baba jan, delivered a
brief prayer followed by an animated speech. Gathered before them in the blazing midday heat
was a large crowd of squinting children, parents, and elders, roughly a hundred or so locals
from the small town of Shadbagh-e-Nau, “New Shadbagh.”