The Talib leaned in the back window. His eyes bored into mine. “Sisters,” he said to both of us, “you must wear a burqa. You are bringing shame.”
Here was a Talib with a machine gun just inches from my face. How was I bringing shame? I wanted to ask him. I was a child, a ten-year-old girl. A little girl who liked playing hide-and-seek and studying science. I was angry, but I knew it would do no good to try to reason with him. I knew I should have been afraid, but I only felt frustration.