Marriage prospects, future dim for thousands of Afghan amputees
KABUL, Afghanistan, 29 March 04
(CP/ CBC Newsonline)

By Les PerreauxThere is no obvious reason why Farzana Hashemi can't find a husband. She is an attractive woman with a quick wit and a good, stable job - a rare commodity in her country.

But underneath her flowing dress, Hashemi stands on an artificial leg that is blocking her chance at a husband and children, family connections vital to long-term economic survival and social acceptance in Afghanistan. Hashemi works at a Red Cross hospital, making artificial limbs.

"It's not a coincidence that I have 17 women in their late 20s working here, and the only two who are married were married before they lost their legs," said Dr. Alberto Cairo, head of a Red Cross orthopedic hospital in Kabul.

Cairo is a busy man - he tended to about 700 amputees last year - but the doctor admits he is occasionally preoccupied by the social lives of his workers.

Amputees face daunting physical barriers in Afghanistan, but the social rejection is even more devastating, Cairo said.

"Listen, you can't just look at this with a European attitude, that a single girl can manage just fine," said Cairo, an Italian.

"In Afghanistan, family life is everything. You can't manage completely alone in this country. There are simple things that you just cannot do here without your clan behind you."

Hashemi doesn't like to talk about marriage, but she provides a few clues about her single life as she files down the rough edges on a plaster mould for an artificial leg.

At work, Hashemi exudes confidence and laughs with her co-workers. She makes the long walk home on the plastic prosthetic she got after a rocket explosion six years ago and faces a long list of chores she can barely handle.

"As long as I'm here, I'm very, very happy," said the 26-year-old, who lives at home with her parents.

"When you go home, it's not so nice. The family still expects you to do all the things you did, like laundry and cooking and cleaning, that you did when you had two good legs."

Cairo said he encourages the women and men at his clinic to consider one another as marriage partners.

"They even reject each other," he said, noting that his one or two direct attempts at matchmaking have failed miserably. "I try to keep my nose out of it now."

Marriages are usually arranged by family members in Afghanistan in a ritual that is based on finances, social status and family compatibility.

In a society where women are expected to do all the chores at home, Afghanistan's female amputees are at an immediate disadvantage when the mothers of potential suitors evaluate them.

Women in Afghanistan raise the children, haul much of the water and maintain households with no indoor plumbing and only rare spurts of electricity.

"Women do all this work while their husbands sit on the mattress in the living room," said Dr. Alif Sharar, another Red Cross hospital physician.

While marriage is an option that many western women reject, it's the only social safety net in a country like Afghanistan, said Sharar. Children are one of the few sources of pure joy, he added.

And amputees are far from rare in Afghanistan. Cairo's Red Cross clinics across Afghanistan have taken in nearly 30,000 amputees since 1988.

At the Red Cross clinic, many of the women expressed breezy confidence about their futures. Others wept silently as they listened to others chatting about the difficult topic.

"It's not a problem for me," said Massouma Ibrahim Khel, 28. "I'm working, I'm going to school, I'm too busy to get married.

"It will be no different for me when the time comes. I'm confident about that."

The situation is different for men, although far from easy. Cairo said men are seen as incomplete with missing limbs, and many Afghans question their ability to provide for families.

But not always.

Ahmed Shakib, another Red Cross worker, was rejected when he first proposed to his wife eight years ago. A short time later, a rocket explosion took his leg. The father of his eventual bride suddenly changed his mind.

"He said it was because I wasn't old enough the first time I asked, but the real reason is I got a job," said Shakib, 32. "Save the Children hired me because I was disabled."

© The Canadian Press, 2004.