In association with CLOWNS WITHOUT BORDERS and BOND STREET THEATRE

The Women's Prison of Herat

    
As an introduction to our new project in the women’s prison in Herat, here is an account from my first experience in the prison in 2011 (a blog report that I never posted!).
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April 2011

One of the most beautiful and devastating experiences we had in Afghanistan was visiting the women’s prison. 

The prison is located on Prison Street.  The front gate is flanked by gigantic cement planters filled with red pelargonia flowers overrun by barbed wire. Rather symbolic.

All the girls of Simorgh Theatre have their arms marked by the prison guard with signature and date in large red permanent marker across their forearm. This is so they can get out again! And not get confused for a prisoner. Joanna and I are spared the markings, no need.




We enter the courtyard where we are to perform and the women are already gathered waiting for us.

There are little children running around. They come right up to me and surround me, unabashed, unafraid, getting close to me with their little bodies, into my arms, face to my face, and hold my hands. So sweet. They’re two, three, maybe four years old. 

The children stay with their mothers in the prison until age seven and then go to relatives (or orphanage?). It’s not clear to me who decides this, does the mother have any say? Generally, as I understand, according to Muslim law, the child belongs to the mother until age seven and after that the father takes over and the mother no longer has any right to her children. I saw a couple of girls around age 10 or 12 as well, but otherwise they all looked under five. The presence of children is startling and disturbing, but also joyous – making it less oppressive, less like a prison.  Still, it’s a prison. It’s beneficial for the children to be with their mothers, but on the other hand it must be detrimental to their psychological well-being to spend their first formative years behind bars.   


The facilities, however, are so much more pleasant than one might expect of an Afghan prison, or any prison (certainly not like jails in the US). I think I had imagined dark, dank cells with dirt floors and perhaps rats, like dungeons. But these were more like dormitories. The floors are carpeted in dark red, and the rooms are large with bunk beds and colorful blankets and a TV set. The doors are left wide open, but perhaps that’s only for our tour. Then there are the children running about. There’s a playroom for them filled with stuffed animals and toys. And for the women there are occupational activities such as tailoring, embroidery, hair dressing and weaving. Another aspect that adds to a less prison-like atmosphere is the fact that the women don’t wear uniforms, they’re dressed in regular clothes of varying colors (i.e., regular Afghan clothing: tunic with pants, or dress, and headscarf or chador (long black sheet)).

But, the inescapable truth is they are in prison. And cannot leave. And it has severe social consequences.

Our girls perform their show about domestic abuse, specifically centering on conflict between a mother-in-law and her young daughter-in-law.  Domestic abuse is rampant in Afghanistan and not only from the husband but often from his entire family (mother-in-law, brothers, uncles, etc.), and the young bride is sometimes treated as a slave. Many of the young women at the prison are there because they ran away from home – from an abusive husband and/or abusive mother-in-law. Running away from home – whether your parents’ or your husband’s -- is a crime in Afghanistan.  A so called moral crime. Some have fled to escape the fate of an impending forced marriage, or to marry the one that they love, others to get away from an abusive home. The brutality of abuse, physical and mental, is beyond the imaginable.  It is so severe that young girls and women, married off as slaves to an older man and his family, burn themselves to death.  In the Herat area last year there were about 100 recorded self-immolations. That’s two a week! And yet, if these women run away, they are the ones who go to jail. Given their circumstances, prison is a better place for many of these young women. Indeed, having shamed the family by running away, they may very well get killed once they leave prison.

And yet, they are in prison, when they have done nothing wrong but eloping with their lover whom they wish to marry, or escaping an abusive home!  They have been deprived of their freedom for nothing.  This is so wrong and deeply upsets my sense of justice.  But most everything involving women in Afghanistan will upset one’s sense of justice and fairness.


Our show is very well-received. The women laugh a lot and break out in applause, spontaneously at certain dialogue. For instance, when a character speaks to the mother-in-law in a dream and talks about how it is possible to change. This is when I wish I understood exactly what was being said when (the show is in Dari) – what prompted them to clap? After the performance, we ask for feedback from the audience. The women say we should bring the show out to the villages. One woman advocated fiercely and enthusiastically for this. Afterwards Joanna and I go to shake hands with some of the women in the audience. I hunch down to say hello, “Tashakor, khob bud”? I can’t say much more, but smile with my hand to my heart. One woman who is further back in the audience calls out: “What is your name?” Another says: “My friend says thank you very much!”


 Two little children kiss my hand with a ritual of placing their cheek, then the other cheek, then their forehead on my hand (and then kiss).  An old woman kisses my cheeks and forehead and hugs me closely and strongly.

The women disappear behind the prison door manned by two female guards in uniform. Some then appear behind the bars of a window, and our girls gather to talk to them. “Where are you from? Are you married? Children?” And eventually the question – “Why are you here in prison?”

One says she killed her husband. Or rather that is what she was put in here for. She didn’t actually do it, but was accused by the husband’s brother. And that’s all it takes. A woman has no voice to defend herself. And even if someone did kill her husband she may have had cause, considering how horribly many women are treated.  But most of them are in prison simply for running away (as described above).

The women behind the bars of the window told the girls they can’t speak further about why they’re there because they’ll cry if they do, and the guards are there (they don’t feel comfortable to speak, or cry, in front of them).

The children sing us a song. They are lined up neat and tidy in a little square. We think, “Oh, how sweet that they sing for us.” But as we learn later the song they’re singing is about being abandoned and homeless! I decide to give the children the balloons I had bought the other day and I still had in my bag.



Our girls are really affected by this visit and especially because of the children. They are visibly taken and somber on the ride home. “The children…” one girl starts to say and breaks down crying. Another girl is crying silently all the way home. This whole experience touched her, I realize, on a very personal level. She’s facing an arranged marriage, and here are all these women who have escaped forced marriages either by killing the husband or running away. She sees herself in these women, her own future perhaps. Or at the least she acutely understands and feels their plight. Her parents want her to marry someone she doesn’t want to marry, but they insist and are not listening to her. She’s been very sad the last few days. I’m told she’s asking to join us a lot on our excursions, because she wants to get away from home. She’s 17, she’s not ready to lose her freedom. That’s it, her life will completely change. And there’s nothing we can do, to help her. I wonder what’s going to happen.

Our play about a mother-in-law who treats her son’s young wife badly has a happy ending. The mother-in-law in the end understands the error of her ways and reconciles with her daughter-in-law. They find a way to live happily together. Later I learn that one of the women in the prison came up to one of our girls and expressed how much she wished her mother-in-law had seen this play. She was in prison because she had killed her mother-in-law.

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P.S.
The girl in our troupe facing a forced marriage got a happy ending too. So far. Her parents relented and she did not have to marry. She has been able to continue with the theater. And she’ll be joining us on this new project in the prison!



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