Kabuli Palaw the Afghan Cat
PHOTOS AND WORDS BY HADIA
I opened my eyes and saw the face of a kind mother. She looked beautiful. Her multi-coloured face and warm eyes instantly told me she loved me. She was my mother. She was a stray, living under a bridge with addicts. Sometimes they hit her with rocks and sometimes they pet her and gave her food. One rainy day, my mother went outside our home and never returned. For days, I was hungry and the addicts gave me nothing. I had no choice but to leave the bridge to see the big streets of Kabul, the city my mother always loved. I saw the darkness and the lightning that hit the cars. The streets were empty and people were running. I was afraid of being kicked, as everyone rushed around me. Hungry dogs and big cars surrounded me, and I ran away as far as I could.
The rain was getting heavier, I found a big shadow and I hid under it. The shadow radiated warmth and sound, like a machine. I heard someone’s footsteps echo and my heart was about to explode. Thoughts running through my mind of addicts and being hit by rocks made me want to run. But before I could, a man caught me. I was dripping wet, my fur and tail covered in mud and dirt. But instead of throwing me away, the man put me inside his coat and kissed my head. He turned towards someone behind him.
“Look at this little kitten Alex, she is the cutest! She seems cold. Let's take her with us.”
I didn’t know what was going on , I didn’t know who the man was or who he was talking to. Why didn’t he throw me away? I was too cold to fight back. I held on to his chest and his coat with my claws so he couldn’t throw me.
He got on his bike, and suddenly I saw a motherly face. A woman sat behind him. She took me from him and wrapped me in her scarf and told the man to start the bike. Within a few minutes, I was inside a new place. It was very warm and beautiful.
The guy said “Alex! She must be hungry. Check the fridge for tuna, let’s feed her.”
The kind woman put me on a sofa and opened the fridge. As soon as she did, I smelt the most delicious food in my life. I ran to her and climbed onto her knee. She gave me the food and It was the first time I had eaten in a week.
The guy said “Alex! She must be hungry. Check the fridge for tuna, let’s feed her.”
The kind woman put me on a sofa and opened the fridge. As soon as she did, I smelt the most delicious food in my life. I ran to her and climbed onto her knee. She gave me the food and It was the first time I had eaten in a week.
The woman washed and cleaned me and told me to call herself and the man as my ‘mother and father’. They didn’t belong to this place. They spoke in a different language. They named me after their favorite Afghan Dish, Kabuli Palaw, which is a traditional meal made of rice, beef, and pistachio. I was the happiest kitten in the world for the first time ever.
A kind man wanted to check my health one day, he handled me gently and kissed my head but suddenly, he injected a vaccine into my side. I hate him for that. My mother told me his name is Dr. Baha and he wants to make sure I don’t have any diseases. Even though my mother said he means no harm, I still hate him. He injected me.
My mother always told me if she had the freedom she would take me outside and let me play with grass in the park, but she couldn’t. She told me about the government, and said they hate women. They hate to see women free, to work, to study, or even to exist .
I didn’t understand what the government was. Why were they so cruel? Why did they hate my mother? She is the kindest, most selfless woman in the world. She fed me and kept me warm when I was lost as the smallest kitten.
One day, I noticed my mother and father crying as they talked. They said they had to leave this country because of the threats my family was receiving from the government due to their journalistic activities. They were told they had a week to leave . I didn’t know how to react. Normally, I love to comfort my mother and father when they cry. So, I went purring to their laps and tried to make them happy, but instead of them being happy, they cried even harder.
My mother said she couldn’t leave me to an animal shelter to starve. As soon as she said ‘animal shelter’, I remembered the last time they had left me at a shelter. My mother and father left for Australia, and I went to the shelter. They didn’t care for us, they never fed us completely. I was a tiny kitten and the bigger cats always ate my food, so I ended up malnourished until my mother returned and took me home with her .
I do not want to go back there. Never. My mother cried and called as many people as she could for help. No one answered.
But after days of searching, my father found an Afghan girl who spoke with him on the phone. Just like my mother, she didn’t sound Afghan at all. My father told her about me and she agreed to care for me.
After two more days, my father put me in his backpack and stopped near a shop, when a young woman wearing a burqa appeared. She greeted my father and took his backpack.
I attacked her. She wanted to kidnap me from my father, and I didn’t want to lose him again. When my father took the backpack and told the woman to lead the way, because he wanted to escort me to my new home.
As soon as we reached her house, it was different. We entered the house, it was all covered. They didn’t wear shoes inside, and she told my father to take his shoes off as well. As soon as we did, two other women walked to us and one of them took my father’s backpack, with me inside. My father cried and cried again as he left me to these three women.
He left.
Again.
When he was saying goodbye he said he had tried every way. But they wouldn’t let me get on the plane In Afghanistan. He promised he would find a way to take me with him to my mother .
After he was gone, I didn’t want to leave the backpack. I was there for two days, not eating and not drinking. Hadia, the young woman who was now caring for me, tried so hard to help me leave the bag but I didn’t want to . She would talk to me in my bag, and tell me that we all suffer from what I am going through. She said that we all suffer from being abandoned by people we loved and cared for. But she said I have her now, and I can call her my mother. She took me in her arms and even though I scratched her, she didn’t get mad or upset. She fed me and brought treats to make me feel happy.
On a Monday, Hadia came back home, with a bloodied face. As soon as her mother opened the door, I smelled blood and I ran to her to see if she was alright. She had tears in her eyes.
Her mother yelled, “They beat this time for passports, didn’t they? ”
Hadia replied. “Yes, the guy I paid money to act like my husband told them he doesn’t know me and they beat me and slapped me in front of everyone ”.
She prayed to god. I loved it when she was praying, I always used to play with her prayer rug during her prayers.
After three months of living with these three women, I grew up. I gained weight and I was a happy cat . An adult cat, sometimes my mother (Hadia) joked about finding a good suitor for me so I can have beautiful Tortoiseshell kittens, but I never would. I wouldn’t marry anyone but a cheetah. I have high standards.
My mother sent me to Dr.Baha again to get me checked. I still hated it. But I was patient this time. After all, I am a grown up cat now .
One day my father called and said he has found someone who can help me get to Iran, so he can meet me there and bring me home to Australia. As happy as I was to hear about this, I felt deep sorrow for my mother. She was crying happily, her eyes full of tears but a smile on her lips as she thanked Allah for me and prayed Salah.
I am here now, in Iran. But there are hundreds and thousands of other people waiting to be saved. They are invisible to people around the world, just as I was once, living under a bridge with the addicts .