Stories My Grandmother Told Me – 65

Jaghori used to get many refugees from Uruzgan. I do not recall whether they were fleeing Pashtuns or the civil war or both, but they used to arrive in groups of many families.

I used to speak to the ones who passed through the village. They had stories to tell. Many said they had land and livelihoods, and they had all been taken over by Kochis. Others had fled because of the wars among the mullahs. Some had even left behind their daughters or young children, unable to carry them over the mountains. They had fled on donkeys and horsebacks, walking through the mountains for days before arriving in Sang-e-Masha.

When the refugees from Uruzgan first arrived in Jaghori, donkeys and their clothes were all they had. They were in tatters. Some people of Jaghori mocked them for having nothing but donkeys.

They were not impressed:

We have arrived with donkeys, but at least we have them. When your turn comes, you won’t even have donkeys to flee on.

Ten years later it happened. When the war came and the people of Jaghori had to flee, many did not even have their own donkeys to flee on. They had nothing but the clothes on their bodies, just like the people of Uruzgan.

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