海角大神

At first I filed the grim news away as simply the latest in a long string of recent Taliban assassinations now gripping Afghanistan: two women, judges from the Supreme Court, gunned down in a Kabul street.

But then I saw a tragic image posted by a friend in Kabul, mourning the death of his mother, Judge Qadria Yasini.

鈥淢y mother鈥檚 handbag, which she tried to protect herself from the terrorists with,鈥� the caption read. The photograph showed Judge Yasini鈥檚 bullet-riddled black leather handbag and the everyday items in it 鈥� including a Mother鈥檚 Day note from her two sons, thanking her for 鈥渟elf-sacrificing for us 鈥� from the first time that we opened our eyes to this world.鈥�

Two bullets had pierced the note.

Suddenly, a killing in Kabul had a face that I knew, connected to a broken heart that revealed the personal impact of jihadist violence that continues unabated across Afghanistan. It was a powerful reminder of the innate humanity behind every death, in a country where such loss is so common that it too often distills to an abstract, impersonal concept.

As peace talks stall, and as President Joe Biden decides how to end America鈥檚 longest-ever war 鈥撀爌ossibly by withdrawing the 2,500 remaining U.S. troops by May 1 鈥撀燼n influential woman who inspired her sons and personified hope for the future of women in Afghanistan has been silenced.

鈥淲hen will we be able to sleep comfortably in our homes and feel safe about ourselves?鈥� Wali Yasini texted me, after I sent condolences. 鈥淚 lost my mother [who] was my closest friend in life just because she was a successful judge. I don鈥檛 really understand what is going on in this country.鈥�

On paper, Judge Yasini鈥檚 death may be just one more statistic. But for Wali, she was the fount of mother鈥檚 love and understanding. I called Kabul.

鈥淚 learned a lot from her; the things that she told me in my life really changed it,鈥� Wali told me, his voice at times quivering with emotion. 鈥淚 still feel her. I can鈥檛 really believe that I鈥檝e lost her. Because if I imagine myself without her, it鈥檚 as if I have no soul.鈥�

Courtesy of the Yasini Family

Wali Yasini, his face blurred for his security, takes a selfie with his mother, Judge Qadria Yasini, who worked with the Afghan Supreme Court and was killed by gunmen with her colleague, Judge Zakia Herawi, on Jan. 17 in Kabul, Afghanistan. Mr. Yasini says he was inspired by his mother's humanity and positive outlook, despite decades of war in Afghanistan.

At 17, Wali is a gifted artist with a passion for languages. We met by chance in 2019 when I visited his one-building school in north Kabul. He was eager to try out his self-taught English, and that night regaled his mother with the story of his first conversation with a foreigner.

For security reasons, Judge Yasini, the author of several books on law, kept secret her work confirming the legality of rulings at the Supreme Court. She also refused TV interview requests, aware that a public profile could make her a target.

Unlike many Afghans targeted by the Taliban, she never received threats or warnings to quit her job. So she refused, a few weeks before her murder, a government offer of a pistol for protection, as the nationwide campaign of assassinations grew.

鈥淢y mother had no trouble with anyone,鈥� says Wali. 鈥淎nd you know what? She was so happy, because she said, 鈥業 haven鈥檛 hurt anyone, so no one will hurt me.鈥� She always said this. Why would anyone want to hurt such a person?鈥�

Wali鈥檚 older brother, Abdulwahab, survived the Islamic State attack on Kabul University last November that took some 35 lives. Their father left years ago; now the brothers are alone.

Wali鈥檚 mother left for work early that morning on Jan. 17. After the office van collected her colleague, Zakia Herawi, the attack began. CCTV footage showed three gunmen escaping on motorcycles.

Wali says he was shocked to see that the assassins were teenagers, like him. They killed the two judges, not the driver or the third passenger, in an attack that required hard-to-acquire details about the two targets and their schedules.

鈥淭his is completely clear for everyone, that behind all of these things is Taliban and those being trained by the Taliban,鈥� says Wali. 鈥淭hese teenagers, they are just part of the group 鈥撀爐hey are the Taliban.鈥�

Such violence raises questions for Wali 鈥� as they do for many other Afghans 鈥撀燼bout whether ongoing intra-Afghan peace talks created by a U.S.-Taliban withdrawal deal signed a year ago can lead to real peace.

鈥淲e think that these talks are not going to work, because those people think that we should be killed, no matter what,鈥� says Wali, referring to a widespread belief among Taliban rank-and-file that Kabul, especially, is a city of infidels. 鈥淚t鈥檚 like a religious command on them.鈥�

That pessimism, bred from bloodshed, is a far cry from the optimism that prevailed after U.S. troops toppled the Taliban and ended their puritanical rule in 2001. Wali says his mother often told him the story about how, when he was a newborn, an American saw him and gave a small amount of cash.

鈥淭his boy is a wonderful boy, because he has come with us to change this country,鈥� the soldier supposedly told Wali鈥檚 mother. 鈥淗e said, 鈥榃e see a beautiful future in him,鈥欌�� Wali recounts. 鈥淭hat was the moment she felt that, 鈥楾hese people are so kind.鈥�

鈥淯sually people think, 鈥楾hese [Americans] are infidels, they are unreligious,鈥欌�� says Wali. 鈥淏ut she told me that, 鈥楴o, it is not such a thing.鈥� Maybe because of these thoughts, this is the reason she was targeted.鈥�

Wali鈥檚 mother imparted something else, too, he says: an ability to overcome negative thinking so聽common聽in Afghanistan.

鈥淚n our family, we are always positive 鈥� especially my mother, she always said the world is beautiful. Every single person is beautiful.

鈥淚t鈥檚 up to you: If you see the world ugly, it鈥檚 ugly. But if you see the world as beautiful, it turns beautiful. This is a positivity, and it is really something different in this country.鈥�