Two days ago I read about an Afghan woman who, at age nineteen, was raped by her cousin’s husband. Soon she found herself experiencing morning sickness and carrying her rapist’s child. Today, she sits in an Afghan prison with her child, condemned for committing “adultery” even though she tried to resist her assailant’s attack. She has two choices: to spend the entirety of the twelve year term in prison or, if she wants to escape prison time, she must marry her rapist.
Her story lingers with me. I think about the brutality of her existence and other people in the world facing similar or greater injustices. And how one’s geography always holds the upperhand. It determines destiny. If this same woman was attacked in the United States, her rapist would serve prison time.
I realized, in reading her story, how I amble and lose sight of what glimmers in front of me.
And that everyday, I should be thankful for my geography. It navigates in ways that I don’t always acknowledge.
Wherever you may be, sending peace and strength.