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Sisterhood Mariam slid out of her bed and began backpedaling. Her arms
instinctively crossed over her chest, where he often struck her first.
What are you talking about? she stammered. Her denying me. Youre teaching her to.
... I should have known that youd corrupt her, Rasheed spat
at Mariam.
He swung the belt, testing it against his own thigh. The buckle jingled loudly.
Stop it, basl the girl said. Rasheed, you cant do this.
Go back to the room. Mariam backpedaled again.
No Dont do this Now
Rasheed raised the belt again and this time came at Mariam. Then an astonishing thing happened: The girl lunged at him.
She grabbed his arm with both hands and tried to drag him down, but she could do no more than dangle from it. She did
succeed in slowing Rasheeds progress toward Mariam. Let go Rasheed cried.
You win. You win. Dont do this. Please, Rasheed, no beating Please dont do this.
Mariam and Laila
Being Bond in Sisterhood
They sat on folding chairs outside and ate halwa with their fingers from a common bowl. They had a second cup, and when
Laila asked her if she wanted a third Mariam said she did. As gunfire cracked in the hills, they watched the clouds slide over
the moon and the last of the seasons fireflies charting bright yellow arcs in the dark. And when Aziza woke up crying and
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Rasheed yelled for Laila to come up and shut her up, a look passed between Laila and Mariam. An unguarded, knowing
look. And in this fleeting, wordless exchange with Mariam, Laila knew that they were not enemies any longer.
Being Bond in Sisterhood
From that night on, Mariam and Laila did their chores together.
They sat in the kitchen and rolled dough, chopped green onions, minced garlic, offered bits of cucumber to Aziza,
who banged spoons nearby and played with carrots. In the yard, Aziza lay in a wicker bassinet, dressed in layers of clothing, a
winter muffler wrapped snugly around her neck. Mariam and Laila kept a watchful eye on her as they did the wash, Mariams
knuckles bumping Lailas as they scrubbed shirts and trousers and diapers.
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Being Bond in Sisterhood
Then Aziza passed gas in her sleep. Laila began to laugh, and Mariam joined in. They laughed like this, at each others
reflection in the mirror, their eyes tearing, and the moment was so natural, so effortless, that suddenly Mariam started
telling her about Jalil, and Nana, and
the jinn. Laila stood with her hands idle on Mariams shoulders, eyes locked on
Mariams face in the mirror. Out the words came, like blood gushing from an artery. Mariam told her about Bibi jo,
Mullah Faizullah, the humiliating trek to Jalils house, Nanas suicide. She told about Jalils wives, and the hurried
nikka with Rasheed, the trip to Kabul, her pregnancies, the endless cycles of hope and disappointment, Rasheeds turning
on her. After, Laila sat at the foot of Mariams chair. Absently, she
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