AHRDO

His Mother Called, “Come. We Have Found Him.”

Hedayatullah Ghaznawi is a man who has lived half of his life. His hair and beard have become grey. He has a chest filled with fire and tells in a section of his interview, “a new fire has ignited.” His voice trembles during the interview and his throat tightens from grief which he does not show until the end of the interview. His cannot complete his sentences and from his body language, is it evident that the death of his son left an irreversible effect on this man’s mind and spirit. This is evident in his tone when he speaks. His catchphrase is “you understand?” which he repeats after almost all of his sentences. We have removed his catchphrase from this text to avoid repetition.

Narrator: Hedayatullah Ghaznawi (father of the victim)

Victim: Rohullah Ghaznawi

Date of incident: August 15, 2018

Place of incident: Mawood Education Center, Dasht-e Barchi, Kabul

My name is Hedayatullah Ghaznawi, the victim’s father. His name was Rohullah Ghaznawi. He was killed on August 15, 2018 in the incident at the Mawooud Education Centre. No one took the responsibility for the incident. Some say [the perpetrators] took responsibility but I personally have not seen on the TV that, for example, the Taliban, Daish or anyone else have claimed responsibility. None of them took responsibility. Before the attack on Mawoud Center, I unenrolled my daughter and son there and cited insecurity as the reason. It was his last year so he said he would go there and his friends also insisted too, so that is how I let him resume going there. My daughter finished the year before. Otherwise I would have lost her in the attack as well. It was around noon that day, and after having his lunch with us, he said he was leaving. Other days, he would say, “I am leaving.” But on that day, he said, “I am going, dad, goodbye.” This hurts me a lot. The fact that he said, “I am going, dad, goodbye.” This torments me a lot.

On that day, his uncle called from Helmand Province to inform me that there had been an explosion in Mawoud Center. No matter how much I called, he did not answer his phone. Finally, I left [to look after him]. He was such a sweet boy and since he was seven years old, he was my friend. He was my friend. he was so nice that when I asked him to come and have lunch at noon, he would say he will eat after he was done with his prayer. He was a very good son (pause) everyone has their own place [in your heart]. He was the genius in our family, a genius. He was a hard worker.

Ah, the day that this bad incident happened to me was when I had gone for biometric and all his classmates came to me. That day was a black day. I went for biometric with my daughter and all his classmates came. Then I saw that my son was not with his classmates. After that, when I took my daughter to Rabbani University for her Kankor examination, I saw his classmates but once again, my son was not among them. That encounter hurt me a lot. God is a witness but no matter how much I try and stay patient, I cannot forget him for even five minutes because he was with me since he was very little. I only spent one week with his fiancé. Ah! His fiancé is also here. She is twenty-years-old.

His place of birth was Helmand. He spent his childhood there and studied there until the tenth grade. I only came to Kabul for their [my children's] education and studies. Only because of their education. It has been around three years since we came to Kabul. Every morning, he would first do his prayer then wake his mother, brother and I. He used to tell us to wake up because the morning has come. He would first pray and then make himself tea over the gas. After having his tea, he would come up to our company office and do all the company-related work there. He managed all our lives. He would set everything up at the office and finish all his work by twelve noon. After that, he would go to school and come back to pursue his courses [at the education center]. He took up this course and that course. That was his schedule. He was my third child.

The memory of him and every moment of his life is pain to me; pain. Until this very day, I did not witness aggression from him. Whenever I was upset, he would grin at me. He would just grin at me like this. For instance, sometimes he would smile and go to his mother to say, “Take care of father.” Among all three to four of my children, he would sympathize with me the most. Whenever he came back home, he would ask for me. If I were somewhere else, he would come to me no matter where I was. I have three other sons but he was very kind so he has a special place to me.

Truly, if you come and ask my neighbours, all of them... God is a witness that the day of his burial and funeral, so many people from friends and family and neighbors around us came and lamented his loss. Whenever my neighbours saw me, their tears would just fall down. If only I had any bad memory of him, I do not have any such memory since his childhood. One time we were painting the walls at the company. The paint jar was heavy for him but he would still drag it to give it to me. He never refused anything I said and always had me in mind. One of those days, he said, “Dad!” After responding to him, he asked me to do something for him. He asked, “Make a place for me so that I can work independently. The expenses in Kabul are a lot. That way I can proudly provide for myself independently and lead my life.” He was very kind and considerate. He was a hard worker. He would not get tired. Ah, whenever he came home, his mother would ask if he was tired. He would click his tongue to mean ‘no’ and say, “what even is tiredness?” His aunts would ask if he ever gets tired but he would say, “No, a man should never get tired. I will never accept defeat in life.” He was a hard worker. After he left us, all of my life fell apart. To tell you the truth, all of my life and my home fell apart. We do not know what we are doing and which direction we are going in life. Our lives and work crumbled so hard that now we have a hard time putting the pieces together.

He had a strong and detailed management skills. He went in the morning to check the warehouses, items, and stores, and then guide the workers. Whenever I faced a problem, I would call him. He could tell me where the item was under which serial number. His memory was that good.

He could play football well and was very interested in it. He would get medals for football. No matter how much I tell you about him and how much I think about what a great person he was, what he did, what happened, I cannot come to an end. The day he was going, his uncle asked, “where is Rohullah?” He said on that day, “I am going, dad, good bye.” One day, I was at the store sorting through fruits when I asked him if he was sick and told him to get himself checked. He looked sick but when I asked him, he replied that he was well and healthy and that there was no problem. I think to myself, “My God, how did you...”

The day of his burial and funeral was a scene to remember. His mother lost herself completely. Yesterday, when we were sorting through his clothes, his mother said, “God, you know better. We surrender to your will. We have no other choice...” Life has no meaning to us anymore. Although our life is great, thank God, it means nothing to us. From the day he was born, he did not rest even one day. He would always work hard and always thought that we need to succeed in life and live with dignity. Now that his mother grieves for him, she wishes he had rested for one day. His fiancé was with him for one week. She was here when he became a martyr. Now when you see his fiancé, you might wonder what has happened. God gave him such a great fiancé. What else can I say? We had no other worry. I loved my son a lot. I loved him endlessly. No matter how much I think, every memory... sometimes I try to keep him away from my mind for five minutes. But even if I want to, I cannot forget him even for five minutes. Although I have a son in Sweden, he would barely call once in five months. Mother is mother after all. He speaks with her but not me.

If Rohullah did not see me for five minutes, he would ask for me. His mother would tell him and then he would come to me. Since he was a kid, he was close with me like a friend, a buddy, a pal. Whenever I was upset, he would grin at me. I have never witnessed aggression from him. Whenever he came home, he would ask his mother what she needed for him to bring. In Shahrak, whenever we did not have tap water, he would go to the tap, fill up buckets with water, and bring it to his mother. He was a very kind son. Whenever we mention his name, my neighbours lament his loss. If only I had a bad memory of him, I could at least comfort my heart with that. I could remind myself of that memory. But I do not have any bad memory of him.

I was informed about the attack from Helmand. I was told that there has been an explosion in Mawoud Center. I was at the store. My brother asked me if someone had told me about the explosion from Helmand. From the store, both us of ran [towards to the center] because there was a lot of traffic at that time. We went to check all hospitals. We went to some with a car, and to others on foot until we reached the hospital. What was the name? Estiqlal. From there, we went to Aliabad Hospital. We went to all the hospitals. After his mother was informed, she also got there. Finally, his mother found him in Jamhoriat Hospital. It was around three or half past three in the afternoon. I was with his uncle.

As we approach Shaheed Square, someone told us to go to Estiqlal Hospital. We went there in a taxi. When we got to the hospital, we started searching among the injured and the dead; one was missing the head, the other did not have legs... We also searched in the morgue. It was the same there as well with missing limbs and body parts. We could not find him no matter how much we searched for him. Then we went to Aliabad Hospital – we did not go to the Mawoud Center because we were told that everyone was transported from the scene. There too, the bodies were missing heads and limbs. It was like doomsday. We still could not find him no matter how much we looked. Finally, his mother called, “Come. We have found him.” She had first gone to Estiqlal Hospital but then had turned around from there and I do not know how, but she finally found him. From there, the body was transferred to Jamhoriat Hospital. The doctors said he would not make it, then two of his uncles transported him to Amniat Mili Hospital. He was kept there for around three days. It was three days, right?

Asif Akbari (uncle): He was injured on August 18 but passed away three days later on August 21. Hedayatullah Ghaznawi: Yes, that is correct. We were there by his side day and night. We held his hand. Just one shrapnel had collided with his head. The doctors said he would not make it from the first day. He was able to breathe and stay alive with the help of the oxygen tank and other medical equipment. After his uncle came, he told us that Rohullah could recover from the neck up. After that, he was in the hospital for two or three more days, then passed away on the third day.

During those three days, I was holding his hand in mine. We stayed like that. Even when I was feeling drowsy, his hand was in mine. I held his hand for the entirety of the three days. I truly loved him endlessly. Yes, we buried him in the Omid Sabz Sharak.

He would tell us to do our prayers because you cannot trust how long a person is alive. His biggest dream was to live a dignified life so that we do not become dependent on anyone else. He never accepted defeat in his life, he was a very active boy.

His mother was alone and he would tell her, “It is okay mother, you work so hard for us. I hope that one day I can repay all your hard work and take care of you. Just as you held us in your arms, I hope to hold you in my arms.” He did not have any other special dreams except these. He would say that we [his siblings] should study and receive education, and succeed in life. This was his dream.

He did not have the word ‘no’ in his vocabulary. Whatever you asked of him, he would say “yes.” Whatever we told him, he would reply with a “yes.” I was just telling my brother (Asif) that for his anniversary, we should inaugurate a library under his name in Helmand. This is my dream; we can do at least this much. My actual dream is for my son to be here with us but since he is not here, what else can we do? We shall open a library under his name and each year’s anniversary, we will do something and recite the Holy Qur’an. That is all we can do. I cannot forget him. I feel him every moment and everywhere. Rohullah was not only my son, he was my buddy.

I dug his grave a bit deeper that day and prepared everything for his burial. It was the day when everyone asked where I was but on that day, the fire had just ignited. Every moment that I remember him now, each day, the fire burns more intensely. If you see his mother, you will be shocked at her state. Everyone loved him.

The day I visited the university was such a black day for me. I told myself that my son is not there while all of his friends and classmates were there. He had one dear and close friend named Jaihoon but both of them died in the attack. They always used to play football together and they became martyrs together. God is merciful. I will make a library under his name so that his name is remembered. We cannot do anything else now. All we can do it open a library under his name. At least his name will be remembered.

Words from Mohammad Asif Akbari, Rohullah’s paternal uncle:

One of the best characteristics of a person is that firstly, their family is happy with them, and secondly, people are happy with them. No matter if he was in the street with the neighbours, or in school, or in place of work, Rohullah was one of those lucky people who the family, friends, and neighbours were happy with because of his great behavior and personality, and they maintained good relations with him. One of his best characteristics was that he was very polite and respected his elders, and he was very kind to those younger than him. He was very polite. He always maintained great relations with everyone and never let anyone become upset with him. While talking, he even considered the tone he used with elders, with children, or while he was in school with friends, everywhere...

He was enthusiastic, he was athletic, and he was a football player. He always put effort to not upset his family, neighbours, or friends. He was a very nice boy. I was responsible for his school days in Helmand. I do not have any bad memories of him or whether he had ever done something bad. I have good memories of him. That day when was injured, one of my friends called to inform me about the incident. I got up, panicked. His father asked me what had happened and I told him that there has been an explosion in Mawoud Center. We were very upset and went to search for him. The rest of the story has been told my Rohullah’s father.

The decision that his father has taken – to open a library to keep Rohullah’s name alive – is the best option and we will try our best to implement this. Also, because he was in twelfth grade and studied hard to score well in Kankor examination and get accepted in his desired faculty. I believe this library is the best option because other youngsters can also benefit from the library.

Rohullah was really interested in engineering. Besides wanting to be a good athlete, he was interested in engineering. He used to play football very well. He was – how should I put it – the glue that kept his friends together. In the school that he studied in, all his friends and buddies would gather around him and together, they created a team called ‘friendship.’ After he passed away, the team also fell apart. One interesting point here is what his father mentioned previously, that in Rohullah’s journey [after his death], he is with one of his closest friends named Jaihoon. They were classmates and played football together. They were always together and had a strong friendship. As though this was their will to not leave the other behind, both of them left this world together.

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