Rafiq dreams of a good job. He’s a lad who’s always kept himself busy. Since becoming head of the household at 16, on the death of his father, he has been a porter, a bricklayer’s apprentice, a baker’s assistant, a pedlar and a mender of bicycles.
When a mine took his leg, he learned carpet-making. A wholesaler supplies him with the wool and pays for the labour, by the square metre. Rafiq’s mother, sisters and younger brothers work with him. This is what they live on.
They must be good, because they have almost never been without work, even when the market was in crisis. But because of the competition they have to work terrible hours, from morning to night, and with never a day off. And making carpets you can’t save enough for a house and a wife, and you’ve no time to go to school.
That’s why for some time now Rafiq has been asking us for a job, a regular wage. A month ago, at long last, a job came up, as a substitute, for just three weeks, in the laundry. Rafiq accepts eagerly. He does the work of two, washing and ironing, he’s never still.
One morning he introduces a round, bearded gentleman to me, a relative. I tell him we are pleased with Rafiq, that he’s a good worker. When the job as a substitute is over, Rafiq takes his leave smiling, thanking us over and over as if we had somehow done him a huge favour.
The day before yesterday the round, bearded gentleman comes back. “What, isn’t Rafiq still with you?” he asks. He says we cheated him. For shame! He glowers at us. We call Rafiq, who laughs happily. “He’s my future father-in-law. For three years he’s kept me on tenterhooks: he won’t give his daughter to someone who only knows how to make carpets.
"An amputee isn’t a good match. Unless I have a proper job, no engagement. Oh no? I led him to believe the job with you was a permanent one. Now we’ve already had the engagement ceremony with the mullah and the guests. It’s done!” and he laughs and laughs.
For a while there’s no talk of weddings, but Rafiq waits patiently. I ask if the girl is willing. He swears she is, they’ve known one another since they were children. He adds that, when he found out the truth, the father-in-law was so furious he nearly had a heart attack. He went on and on about it, convinced that the entire orthopoedic centre was involved in the plot to cheat him, with me as the ringleader: “for cripples, that foreigner would forge false papers!” he’s supposed to have said. A fine compliment – I like it. Now, though, to restore the peace, we really do need a steady job. But there aren’t any.
Today an unexpected solution turns up. From the mountain troops, who are looking for staff for cleaning and maintenance work at the Bagram barracks. They will accept people with disabilities - ten for now, and then we’ll see. Rafiq is among those taken on. The wages are good. He’s worked it out, and in ten months he’ll be able to get married. Enough time for his future father-in-law to cool off.
Alberto Cairo
