For years we never discussed or talked much about what had happened or the experience of growing up fatherless in a culture in which you are identified only by who your father is. Khalid dealt with it by taking off for years after we emigrated to be alone and away from anything to do with the family. He avoided us all, and it was only years later that we would re-create the tight bond that the three of us share today. Being the youngest, Najiba doesn’t have any memories of our father—what she remembers are the bits and pieces that she has collected through Mamai’s stories of him.I have always wished Najiba would face her feelings about growing up without her own memories of our father while hearing so much about him. She confessed that she hated Afghanistan for taking him, and never wanted to go back to try to reconnect with its people. It made my heart ache to hear her say that. I tried to make her see that our father had made a conscious choice to rebel against the Russians; that he saw something in his people worth giving up his life for.Unlike Najiba, I wanted to know what that something was.
