“Afghanistan has long been rich in gems and minerals—”
“Got that.”
“Going back over two thousand years,” she insists.
“So I’ve heard.”
“But it lacks the necessary infrastructure for large-scale mining.”
“I know that, too.”
She skewers me with a look.I get her point, fall silent.
“Instead, the mining involves small sites, generally excavated by hand,” she continues.“The local men will form cooperatives to lease the land from the owners, who can be anything from corrupt bureaucrats to wealthy landowners to corrupt, wealthy landowning bureaucrats.”
“Sabera’s uncles?”I guess.
“I believe so.Previously, the Taliban had utilized mines to fundtheir operations against the republic, so the government made it illegal.But of course, that didn’t mean it stopped.In many remote villages, it’s one of the only ways to earn a living.And precious gems can always be sold over the border in Pakistan, where there’s a ready market.
“It has generated much talk in the Afghan community.Both from those who were frustrated by the former government outlawing mining—because how else were they going to feed their families?—to those who were angry and resentful of the wealthy few who actively engaged in continuing the illegal mines, mostly so they could profit at the locals’ expense.”
“Do the miners get paid?”
“A percentage of what they find.On a good day, that might mean the equivalent of one week’s pay for a few hours’ work.Like any kind of hunting, however, it can also mean weeks of absolutely nothing.But all of the time, it’s extremely dangerous.”
“High risk, high reward.”
“There’s no training, no safety equipment.The men learn as they go.They blast with homemade dynamite they make by mixing old gunpowder in plastic sleeves.They use ancient pneumatic jackhammers fueled by even more ancient petrol-run generators to work the seams, followed by pickaxes and hammers.Others will sort through the piles of rubble by hand, looking for the day’s find—the most valuable being tourmaline with blue and green or green and pink coloring.You probably don’t even know what tourmaline is.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Yet in my country, men die for it.”Aliah shrugs, as if to say that is the way of the world.Maybe it is.“The work is very hot and difficult, but the men can’t afford to spend money on safety equipment.They work dawn to dusk, blasting, jackhammering,squatting, sorting, no helmets, safety glasses, respirator masks.And they must work fast if they’re going to find enough to make the day’s haul, meaning they rarely shore up the walls.
“Many families in these towns have men missing limbs from blast injuries or suffering head injuries due to a tunnel collapse, or perpetually sick with a wracking cough.Then again, the work affords the opportunity for a man to support his family, which can be anywhere from twelve to twenty people.Even under the ‘new’ government, there were very few jobs that could do that.Now, I understand the Taliban has brought mining back.Made it legal and even encouraged some of the former national soldiers to operate artisanal mines in their backyards.The Taliban charge them a hefty tax, of course.But it has enabled some of the men who were in the Afghan National Security Forces to survive.At least for now.”
“It is a hard life in your country,” I state softly.
“Yes.”
“But you, your fellow refugees, miss it.”
“Home is always home, like family is always family.It doesn’t have to be perfect for it to feel like the place we belong.”
“Do you know what happened to Sabera’s uncles?”
“I believe they were killed along with her father and brother when Kabul fell.Maybe by the Taliban, maybe by others settling an old score.These things happen.”
I would like to say not in the US, but I’ve spent too much time in inner cities ravaged by gang violence to make such an argument.
“Do you know if her uncles worked with anyone from South Africa?”
Aliah appears genuinely bewildered by such a question.
“Any other information on Sabera’s family?”I press.
“She didn’t speak of home that often.She had not been in thiscountry long, remember, and trying to figure out the here and now is hard enough, without pining for something you will never have again.”
I nod.I want to definitively connect some dots—the attempted abductor of Zahra is unquestionably South African and absolutely connected to Sabera’s family’s illegal Afghan mines.Or even the attempted abductor is certainly a South African mercenary tied to Sabera’s activities with the army’s intelligence unit.But there’s not enough information for either theory yet.Also, I’m not sure how knowing the answer to either supposition helps.
