Cries of approval followed this. Mariam shifted Aziza from one arm to the other.
With her free arm, she supported Laila, who was moaning, and had her own arm flung around Rasheed's neck.
“Not anymore,” the Talib said. “My wife is having a baby!” a heavyset man yelled.
“Would you have her give birth here on the street, brother?”
Mariam had heard the announcement, in January of that year, that men and women would be seen in different hospitals,
that all female staff would be discharged from Kabul's hospitals and sent to work in one central facility.
No one had believed it, and the Taliban hadn't enforced the policy. Until now.
“What about Ali Abaci Hospital?” another man cried. The guard shook his head.
“Wazir Akbar Khan?” “Men only,” he said. “What are we supposed to do?”
“Go to Rabia Balkhi,” the guard said. A young woman pushed forward, said she had already been there.
They had no clean water, she said, no oxygen, no medications, no electricity. “There is nothing there.” “That's where you go,” the guard said.
There were more groans and cries, an insult or two. Someone threw a rock.
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