Laila could have said then that she didn't need this advice because Babi had no intention of giving her away anytime soon.
Though Babi worked at Silo, Kabul's gigantic bread factory, where he labored amid the heat and the humming machinery,
stoking the massive ovens and mill grains all day, he was a university educated man.
He'd been a high school teacher before the communists fired him,
this was shortly after the coup of 1978, about a year and a half before the Soviets had invaded.
Babi had made it clear to Laila from a young age that the most important thing in his life, after her safety, was her schooling.
“I know you're still young, but I want you to understand and learn this now,” he said. “Marriage can wait, education cannot.”
“You're a very, very bright girl. Truly, you are. You can be anything you want, Laila. I know this about you.”
“And I also know that when this war is over, Afghanistan is going to need you as much as its men, maybe even more.”
Because a society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated, Laila. No chance.”
But Laila didn't tell Hasina that Babi had said these things, or how glad she was to have a father like him,
or how proud she was of his regard for her, or how determined she was to pursue her education just as he had his.
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