#speak up for afghan women

[qurbanjaan]

Me: Afghan men should be held accountable for everything they do to afghan women and women from better countries shouldn’t be afraid to be called racist/islamophobic while doing so.

Illiterate hell creature: STOP BEING RACIST!!!!!!!!! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE MISOGYNISTIC AND DEFEND WHAT AFGHAN MEN DO!!!!!! YOU ARE A TERF AND SHOULD BE ERASED FROM EARTH!!!!!!!!

See, I’m sorry to tell you that but even though you identify as a male, to a male you will never be one of them. Go to Afghanistan and see all the male privileges you will hold, I dare you, lol. You acting misogynistic to try to mimic male behavior just makes you miserable.

[feministfang]

Fuck all the islamic activists like Khalid Beydoun and Fatima Bhutto constantly posting about muslim m@les dying in west or p@lestine but staying silent on the oppression women are facing in islamic countries. Taliban just passed a new law banning Afghan women from speaking outside of their homes or even speaking to non-muslim women. But no word from these "peaceful religion" protesters! The entire world should follow the instructions of these fucktards, boycott whoever they want, unfollow the celebrities they hate otherwise we are labelled as islamophobes. But they can choose to zip their mouths and mock women suffering at the hands of islamic terrorists. Well, i am not boycotting or unfollowing anybody these muslims want me to as long as they don’t protest for the afghan women with the same energy and rage. You either accept that your religion is the most misogynistic one and harming women and speak up on it, or you keep getting silent treatment that you deserve . Call me an islamophobe i am not even denying that i am one!

[qurbanjaan]

Life used to be normal, women’s rights are not linear and remember: males from your country would do the same to you, given the opportunity.

[queer-geordie-nerd]

There really is no better example of the racism of low expectations when certain far leftists criticise condemnation of the fucking Taliban as “peak white liberal feminism.” Women and girls in Afghanistan are being systematically removed from public life, denied the right to education, freedom of movement, of dress, even the right to speak in public or to each other. Animals have more rights than women under the Taliban.

And then you have these arseholes saying it’s imposing Western cultural mores on non Western societies to care about the welfare of these women, as if Afghan men couldn’t possibly be expected to know how to treat women like fucking human beings and they have the audacity to hold themselves up as “anti racist.” You’ve clearly shown what an incredibly low opinion you actually have of non white and non Western cultures if you think the situation in Afghanistan is remotely normal or indicative.

It’s absolutely putrid.

[stillsoblue]

my heart bleeds everyday for the afghan girls and women. they are housebound and have to cover themselves up from top to bottom because they have to "avoid temptation or seduction". they are not allowed to speak in public or appear in public because it is deemed "too intimate." the women can’t look at men. suicide rates have skyrocketed because women and girls would rather be dead than to be a women in afghanistan. it’s not a sin to be a women.

women and girls are denied access to healthcare because they cannot be treated by male doctors, yet they are also barred from education and, therefore, cannot become doctors themselves. shops in afghanistan are even forced to cover up female mannequins. little girls live in fear of becoming child brides, but they dream of being poets, they would kill to get education.

a woman was disqualified from the olympics because she spread the message "free afghan women" at her breakdance performance. there must always be a relative male by their side like women were dogs being treated by their owner, except dogs have more rights than the women suffering.

we must raise awareness, do not look away. these women deserve the opportunities and the human rights that EVERY person does. they are talented, creative and intelligent but men are so scared. scared of women. the taliban tries to erase women. i’m sick. remember: it’s not islam or "just their culture", it is the radical government that feels threatened by women. do not look away.

[djuvlipen]

one last word on this. it is very interesting to me that it is imane khelif (an allegedly intersex algerian person with an androgynous physique) who has been chosen by radfems to give a face to the problem of sexism at the olympics and not steven van de velde, the athlete convicted of raping a child, not "valentina" petrillo, the actual transwoman competing at the female paralympics, not manizha talash, the female afghan athlete who was eliminated from the competition for wearing a cape that said "free afghan women", not vinesh phogat, the female indian athlete who was excluded from the competition because she was 100g overweight as she was about to win a gold medal (a decision that may have been politically motivated considering phogat has been very vocal and active protesting sexual violence in indian society), not the inclusion of israeli players who represent a country that commits mass rapes on palestinian women.

When you bring that up the counter-argument is always "yes but radfems are opposed to the inclusion of khelif and at the same time they denounce these other forms of sexism, we can care about multiple issues at once" except that this is absolutely not the case here, feminists have devoted much, much more time, attention and conversation to khelif than to any other people i've mentioned here, they have protested much more against khelif than against the men or in support of the women I have listed. This shows that radfems (in general) have made the choice to give a greater priority to khelif than to these other questions, and this shows that their priorities really speak to white middle class women much more than they do disabled women, woc, third world and working class women.

Because even if khelif had been a biological male identifying as a woman (which isn't the case)... none of this warrants focusing so much on her. all the other topics i've mentioned here have only been discussed from time to time at best (for van de velde and petrillo) and a couple of times before everyone decided to collectively move on at worst (for talash and phogat). Of course fair play for women is important but it shouldn't obliterate every other conversation to be had about male violence, especially male violence occuring in third world countries in large part because of western imperialism (in the cases of afghanistan, india and palestine)

[qurbanjaan]

Our sisters have unimaginable strength

“She'll be married by the time she's 15 or 16 years old and deliver a child. That's her life.”

“I wish god had never created women, we are being treated worse than animals.”

How many of us will continue to be blind?

Are women and these young girls really free from their sorrows? Their bodies are already covered, but they still can't decide over their own bodies. Voices that used to ring like bells are now forced to be silent beneath the veils. They said it's for protection, but why are they still in danger? They already covered their faces, but you could still see the desperation in their eyes to be free. Their fingers, which once held pens and papers, were now trembling from fear and full of callouses.

Afghan women are fierce and proud. They will continue to stand, but the world chooses to ignore.

[allthegeopolitics]

Life as a woman in Taliban-ruled Afghanistan just got even more restrictive as a government ministry enacts new laws on “vice and virtue” in the country, banning women’s voices and uncovered faces from public life. The laws were issued Wednesday by the ministry for the “propagation of virtue and the prevention of vice,” which was established in 2021 after the Taliban seized control of Afghanistan. That was the year the U.S. military and other western powers, including Canada, evacuated the country, leaving behind a power vacuum quickly filled by the militant group. Many Afghans who worked for western powers, including drivers and interpreters, were left behind in the chaotic departure. [...] Women are also forbidden from singing, reciting and reading aloud in public, as a woman’s voice is deemed “intimate” and should not be heard. It’s unclear if speaking is also banned. [...]

Continue Reading.

Note from the poster @el-shab-hussein: Just a heads up before the opportunists try and get ahold of this for islamophobic propaganda, what exactly is Islamic about banning women from reading the Qur'an? Nothing. This has nothing to do with faith and everything to do with control and abuse of power.

[qurbanjaan]

I met an Afghan-Pakistani family last night here in Germany, they come from a culture where the women aren’t allowed to even leave the houses. Ever. Her husband got her a visa and out of the country by secret pretending they were going to Iran. She’s been here for a year and can’t speak anything other than Pashto, she also can’t seem to get out of the house by herself even though her husband tells her to. This is the first time her daughter’s been to proper daily school. I can’t stop crying, I just feel so terrible when I see her and then I think of your situation and then my other Pakistani friend who isn’t allowed to go to the school she wants to go to because it’s in another (Muslim) country whereas her brother got to go where he pleased and even shittalked the women who were in his university. I want to ignore this shit life and enjoy living in a good country but it’s all around me. It’s not even just a certain race but it’s all of them, no one ever sees a problem with it and my heart keeps aching. This cannot be normal, we can’t keep letting this happen. It’s not fair, it’s not fair.

I go through a similar situation as the first woman you mentioned. I’m free and he incentivizes me to go out and do what I want, but I’m scared to leave the house and behave how I want because I grew up so strictly that I feel like everything will be over for me if I anger someone or cross him at the wrong day. See, he is good to me, we are both apostates, even! We don’t even follow anything islam preaches but I just can’t help this fear, when we go through so many restrictions we start fading away and it’s hard to recover autonomy.

See, how can a brother think so lowly of someone that shared a womb with him? How cruel can you be to see someone that’s pursuing education as evil and help to restrict his own sister? It’s impossible to have faith, impossible! We grow up blindly at home, deliver kids and then if we die, the next day they will be married again to another poor child! How can we keep our faith this way?

[feministfang]

Pro-p@lestine cry babies stop commenting "bOycOtt" under every post and use all that energy to speak up for Afghan women instead challenge: Failed Miserably!

[mariacallous]

In its latest assault on basic freedoms, Afghanistan has banned women and girls from speaking in public. It marks a new low in the Taliban-led government’s enforced gender apartheid.

Promises that girls and women would be allowed to study and work were broken shortly after the Taliban returned to power. The group banned girls from going to school beyond sixth grade and outlawed them from pursuing higher education at university. It even prohibited them from taking a stroll in the park or going to the gym, and from nearly all professions that could earn them a living and a semblance of independence and dignity.

And yet even as Afghan women are kept prisoner in their homes and denied basic rights, neither the Islamic nations in the region nor the United States have taken an active interest in compelling the group to reverse its misogynistic policies.

The new rules were announced in the middle of the presidential campaign in the United States, but both candidates kept mum on the issue of women’s rights, even though each of their respective governments knowingly left Afghan women to a fate that was hardly unexpected.

When Kamala Harris and Donald Trump faced off in a debate last week, Afghanistan was raised only in the context of the domestic ramifications of American withdrawal. No mention was made of what happened to Afghans left behind. Neither candidate said a word about how the U.S. exited without securing any guarantees from the Taliban on the future of women and their rights.

The Taliban, firmly in control, brushed off all of its atrocities on Afghan women and violation of their very basic rights as “Afghan values’’ in a conversation with Foreign Policy. Taliban spokesperson Suhail Shaheen said the group was open for engagement with the West, but on economic issues only.

“They can invest in minerals,’’ he told FP. “China, Russia, all have business ties with us, the West can also do that. It is good for them and good for us.’’

“Women’s rights and those things are up to us, and we will determine them according to Afghan values and traditions,’’ he added, as if speaking and reading were matters of Afghan sovereignty and not basic human rights.

Mahbouba Seraj, an Afghan women’s rights activist who was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize last year, blamed both the Trump and Biden administrations for the circumstances the Afghan girls and women find themselves in.

“When they were discussing the agreement in Doha, we were not even given the visa to come to Qatar because we would have asked questions, we would have confronted the Taliban, but that could have scuttled the deal and the Trump administration didn’t want that,’’ she told FP over the phone.

“Biden may not have had enough room to change the deal, but that was not the reason he stuck with it,’’ she said. The Biden administration “wanted to get out.’’

The key tenet of the U.S. policy on Afghanistan has been security and containing the threat that terrorist groups based there can pose to Western countries. The Doha agreement between the U.S. and the Taliban, which led to the U.S. exit, called on the Taliban “to prevent the use of Afghan soil by any international terrorist groups or individuals against the security of the United States and its allies.’’

But even the word “women’’ is missing from it. A post-withdrawal concern has been that a deteriorating humanitarian situation could exacerbate the refugee crisis, particularly in Europe.

In order to address these concerns, and heed calls by humanitarian actors, the U.S. agreed to ease some sanctions and infuse Afghanistan with billions in cash. That helped Afghans, but it also kept the Taliban afloat and emboldened it to carry on as it pleased.

“Since August 2021, the U.N. has purchased, transported, and transferred at least $2.9 billion to Afghanistan using international donor contributions,’’ according to a report by the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR) in January. It added that the U.S. is the largest donor, with $2.6 billion of that sum contributed by the American taxpayer.

While throwing money at the problem has somewhat mitigated a humanitarian crisis, it has also kept the Taliban in power and allowed it to maintain a support base. The report said that the Taliban has accumulated, “a large supply of U.S. dollars, through the conversion process of dollars for afghanis.’’

Some Afghan analysts argued that stopping the cash flow will weaken the Taliban, reduce its acceptability, and ideally encourage an anti-Taliban uprising. Or, at the very least, force them to make some concessions.

22-year-old Miryam, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, pleaded that the West, and especially the U.S., “should stop sending money to the Taliban.’’ Her education was cut short when the Taliban took over in 2021, she can’t wear what she wants, or do anything professionally, or step out of the house.

“Don’t recognize the Taliban,’’ she said from Kabul in her message to the international community, “put pressure on them to at least give women the right to work and study.’’

Davood Moradian, founder and the director-general of the Afghan Institute for Strategic Studies (AISS) now based in London, argued in favor of slashing the aid. “America is the main source of Afghan currency,’’ he told FP. “The moment the U.S. stopped funding, the Taliban will face a serious challenge,’’ to its rule, he added.

Others said if the Taliban didn’t break under 20 years of American presence, they wouldn’t abandon their hardcore ideology now, due to a cash crunch. Seraj, the women’s rights activist, advocated a diametrically different approach and said that the West should instead open the floodgates of developmental aid in a way that upward mobility emboldens the Afghan people to rebel against Taliban’s excesses and fight for women’s rights.

“You can’t even use the word women with them,’’ she said. “You have to come up with things like more investments and business deals and let that create the right conditions.’’

Thus far, the U.S. has threatened the Taliban with a global boycott if it doesn’t grant women their rights. But efforts ostracize the group from the international community are a farce since China, Russia, Pakistan, Qatar and several others continue to engage the group for economic and security reasons.

The truth is there hasn’t been an active U.S. policy to try and bring about a change or help the women of Afghanistan since the U.S. retreated. The policy has been outsourced to the U.N., which is engaging the group, often on the terms set by the Taliban. For instance, in July the U.N. organized Doha III, a dialogue platform to engage the Taliban and various stakeholders on the future of Afghanistan. But to appease the Taliban and make sure they attended, not a single women’s rights activist was invited.

One idea, way short of full recognition, could be to bring together a coalition of Islamic nations to challenge the Taliban’s understanding of Shariah and compel the group to let women and girls study and work, just as they can in other Islamic countries.

In April, the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) called on the Taliban’s deputy chief minister Abdul Kabir to end the ban on education and employment for women and girls. Last year, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan said that preventing education for girls is “inhumane and un-Islamic.” Abdulkhaleq Abdulla, a prominent political advisor in the United Arab Emirates, told FP that an Emirati delegation visited Kabul to discuss women’s rights. “There are so many trends in Islam, some more moderate, others more extreme. The Taliban, they are following a very backward ideology,” he said.

But Afghan women’s rights activists say that the condemnations from fellow Islamic countries appear to be more perfunctory and unserious. It could carry weight if it was a cohesive regional policy pushed by the U.S. as one of the pillars of its Afghanistan strategy. The Taliban, after all, is carrying out its oppression in the name of Islam.

Shaheen, the Taliban spokesperson, seemed to make some room for concessions when he told FP that the decision on education and employment for girls and women was pending, and subject to a report by an Afghan “committee.”

As for the next American president, ignoring Afghanistan would be at their own peril. Caging women in their homes and denying them basic rights represents a pattern of the Taliban reneging on promises—and it’s easy to imagine that extending to foreign policy.

“They are all there, all there,’’ Seraj, the activist, said. “ISIS-KP, Al Qaeda, other terrorist groups, they are all there. They are all getting training. Don’t think nothing is happening. The American intelligence knows what’s going on.”

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

The Prince of my Dreams.

33 Year old Single! Ronaldo x Younger! Female Reader.

Your parents came from Afghanistan.

Enjoy.

That anime you watched in Eight grade became more understandable as you age. Death Note. A mundane and rotten world.

Existing was expensive. Living is impossible for the likes of you despite living in the greatest country in the world. The rulers and corrupted politicians would use tax money to fund useless wars and not to help the poor. Such as yourself. A fresh out of highschool young lady looking for any job. You were desperate. You don't want to see yourself.

But, a minimum wage job would help. Sadly, the standards went high. You had no job experience and no degree. Even community college is pricey. You were stuck in life. Were it not for your religion. You would have ended your life. Miserable and pathetic were two perfect examples to describe your way of being.

You gave up on Job hunting. Maybe you should prepare yourself to go to a women shelter in the future and know your days are out numbered once your father dies.

You don't trust your brother.

Your dysfunctional family gave you allowance and free housing in exchange for slavery. Cleaning, cooking, driving your nephews and nieces around school, clubs, parties etc, errands and grocery shopping.

Life was not worth living but livable.

It was not enough.

You didn't want to drink or do drugs so. Your escape was fantasy. Fictional romance books and movies. Especially cheesy Bollywood and Disney movies were your favorite.

You hated reality and couldn't handle it.

It was Sunday morning and you told your father you would take a small break. So, you would go to this small yet successful halal restaurant. It sold the best sandwiches in town and smoothies. Mango and Guava lassies.

You were about to step inside when you heard a deep and accented masculine voice.

"Look out!"

You halted in your heels and noticed a soccer ball in front of your path.

"Sorry. Are you okay?" A man with a mustache and beard along with sun glasses jogged up to you along with a white dog.

You gave him a small nervous smile. This man was six foot tall at least and you could notice he was muscled behind his sweatshirt.

He could easily hurt you.

But, his smile was genuine. You knew it somehow. You don't know why. And noticed he had the straightest and whitest teeth ever. As if it was fake.

"Aren't you a cutie?" He slightly pulled down his sunglasses to scrutinize you.

You furrowed your brows in offense. What a creep.

"Aren't you inappropriate?" You snapped back sarcastically.

All men are evil.

The man seemed confused and held his arms up on defense. He claimed to be joking.

Your face reddened. You sighed in exhaustion and pressed your fingers against your aching forehead to calm yourself.

"I am sorry. I am not good at socializing. I can be awkward."

The man was quiet for a moment. He nodded. "I understand." He whispered huskily. It sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

Gulping you smiled a little bigger than the first. "I am about to eat. Would you like to join me?"

You saw his thick yet plucked brows raise up. "Sure."

He held the door open and the two of you walked in.

"This is the best halal restaurant in town." You led the man to your usual table. He sat on the opposite side and took off his glasses. His almond shaped eyes and chocolate eye color made you feel hungry for sweets.

He bit his lips. "Not to be rude. What are you?"

You tilted your head.

He chuckled nervously. "Your look like a foreigner. Yet you speak English perfectly."

You explained how you were born and raised in America. But your parents immigrated from Afghanistan thanks to the Soviet Invasion.

That caught his attention. "Afghanistan." He repeated. He claimed you were the first he met.

You shrugged and explained how the terrorist attack.caused Afghans problems in getting a Visa here.

The man was about to say more but the waiter came.

"Hi, Name." Idrees smiled took out his pad. "What do you want for today?"

You ordered the most expensive dish for the man and a Mango Lassi. As for yourself. A vegetarian sub sandwich with berry energy drink.

Idrees nodded then left. While you were ordering the food, the man was staring at your lovely face.

"A lovely name that suits your face." He grinned.

You thanked him and bit your lips in nervousness then looked around to avoid his eyes.

Amused the man leaned in. "Aren't you going to ask for my name?"

You shook your head quickly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want. I am sorry for being rude earlier. I don't really talk to men unless I have to."

"I see. Afghanistan is tough on women. I am sorry."

You shrugged and said nothing.

After two minutes being awkward and silent, the food came.

The man looked at the plate you ordered him. And you took out your debit card to give to Idrees.

Your friend seemed to have about to object.

"Please don't resist. I invited you. Not the other way." You gave your debit card to the waiter. "Besides, I don't think I have spoken to anyone but my family in perhaps five months or so."

"Wow. " The man whispered. "Five months?"

You explained how you were usually working for your family and your friends that had real jobs or school hardly had time for you. And you would text or call them. Hardly hang out. It was nice being away from your dysfunctional family.

Always yelling or criticising you.

You two began to eat. The man moaned when he took a bite out of his lamb kabob with tahini sauce. He asked what was he eating. You explained the grape leaves rolled. And the falafel balls.

Then before you were to stand up. The man stood to his full height and it made you sit down.

He asked for your number.

"Sorry. I cant text you."

"oh, right. I am sorry." The man explained how he thought you were cool and a good genuine person that radiated a good soul.

An odd compliment. "Oh?" you thanked him. "I had fun eating with you."

He nodded and stared.

"Please. I want to be your friend."

Wow. You blinked. He was so forward. Maybe he was not a creep and you stereotyped him unjustly and ignorantly.

He sat down.

"okay. There is an anime movie in theaters. Want to watch it tonight? I think I can make it."

You can lie to your dad and say you were hanging with a girlfriend.

"Anime?"

Before you could explain. The man asked for your cellphone once more

And you gave it.

What could go wrong?

[ran-orimoto]

[ Look, you have to thank @ teclajellymon if today I have remembered to post this here, because, like always, I forgot to do it yesterday at the same Ao3 publishing time and I would have probably forgotten about it forever.

Ehm, *cough*. Today I’m offering you another future Junzumi headcanon of mine in the shape of a very stupid, silly story. The essence of the matter is that I have given them a saluki hound, ok, or better, I have given Izumi a saluki hound who will eventually becomes Junpei’s as well, to his utter joy, I guess ahahah.

Why a saluki hound? Simply because they look like Izumi, I wanted an active, sportive dog for her and, most of all, they are called the singing hounds of the wind. Honestly, my first choice had been an afghan, because her appearance would have clashed even more with Junpei’s and they are the most stylish dogs I have ever seen, no lie about this ahahha. I’ve eventually found a good compromise, though, indeed, the perfect Junzumi dog because of that definition of theirs 🤣💕.

Context: We can place this story after the seamstress one, in spring. Izumi has moved in, has started her life in Venice along with Junpei, but she left a little… Furry problem behind in Japan. ]

• Liù •

People rarely claimed a man and their beloved partner were supposed to look similar, if not identical, -hell, it would have been such a scary world, if that had been true-, whereas when it came to men and their dogs, well, it was just a different story. He had heard and, recently, he had also started seeing all sorts of things, everywhere, and they wouldn’t disappear like mirages in the mist after obstinate rubs given to the lens of his sunglasses.

Therefore, he had started doing the opposite, embracing that irreparably odd reality with open arms and…And quickly regretting his choice.

Staring for too long, with too much intensity, too much curiosity . It wasn’t that ideal when it came to middle-aged women minding passers by’s business, drawn by the beauty of their dog, which, though, -better to highlight it not twice but three times!-, would never be as charming as their own.

That was objectively a bit of a stretch , in his opinion, because that Swiffer broom obediently sitting by her side wasn’t minimally comparable to his principessa . His …No, she was Izumi’s, what was he saying? It had just been a present from him and he hadn’t even been that fully convinced about her peculiar pick back then.

Whatever, in Piazza San Marco the reciprocal introduction of two furry friends, the proud echoes of refined names soon got replaced by very sharp noises. He should have glued his orbs onto the regal four-legged figure next to him, instead of focusing on the stranger’s long silhouette, on how it extraordinarily matched her pet’s.

The pigeons peacefully pecking at crumbs of bread thrown by some tourist immediately took flight at the sound of wood colliding with resistant coconut husk. He couldn’t really blame her, but he wished she hadn’t decided to use the handle of her umbrella to punish his naive irreverence. And then , icing on the cake, a chorus of annoying yapping and more powerful, -modestly speaking-, barks predictably joined the commotion, offering a musical base to a vivacious and incomprehensible ritual of curses.

This is so lovely, He had shaken his head in pain, This is so, so, so, lovely, And it really was, taken in account he hadn’t told Izumi about what he had been up to during that week off yet.

He was aware she had been too busy with her new restaurant adventure to be interested in discovering about that, about his new favourite game in which he was no one but a gentleman strolling through the streets of Venice, along with his elegant dog he didn’t share any resemblance with.

Now that he thought about it, though, every respectable detective owned a loyal companion scampering after them. Perhaps, she would look like him if he made her wear a baggy yellow raincoat.

__________________________________________

“I swear, you should have seen her. She had this enormous bob hardly covering her ears and it was so bloated, like a cloud. I don’t know why, but I think she might be a high school professor, even if she was speaking in a heavy dialect. I mean, a high school professor wouldn’t speak dialect like that. Especially in that way. But ok, this isn’t the point. She-“

He unwillingly arrested that blabbing of his only when Izumi placed a hand on his forehead.

“This is where it hurts?” She asked with a worried frown, her green eyes squeezed as the tips of her fingers touched the reddened spot.

“Yeah. And it hurts so much I could pass out, eh eh,” He had never been that skilled at hiding the pleasant and soothing effect any physical contact with her would provoke in every fiber of his being. Thus, his impetuous voice calmed down completely, the waves of chocolate in his eyes turned into a quiet swinging tide, his entire body abandoned itself to the miracle of her beauty…Until the gentle, impalpable wind started throwing sharp knives against him.

“Ouch!” He whined, taking some steps backwards and opening his mouth at that sudden change of mood. It had been so unpredictable and now seemed to be mirroring the shifting sky darkening outside. Her nails were so long and neatly-trimmed, so sleek, utterly perfect from the perspective of a lucky man who could hold those soft hands and observe them in bliss. However, they could also transform into the claws of an angry feline, a feral lynx and hurt without needing her to put that much effort. “What was that for?”

“ Ma io dico,” She hissed at him, her index and its minuscule weapon still raised in the air, near to the scratch they had just teased. They both were there, resting on the thumb that had helped them gain momentum. “What were you thinking…?! I have left you alone for a week, just a single week…!”

His lips protruded in a startled perplexity, he blinked twice before her scolding expression, not sure if he would find a point in coming up with a lie. Actually, there would never be one in her presence. Any attempt to hide something from her through the art of deception would get a vain result, would be an occasion to turn into a clown. It was fine to him, though, because he didn’t like the idea of telling her a fib.

“I was looking at her dachsund,” He explained with a pure externalization of sincerity and now her turn to goggle like he had before, but with even more confusion, arrived.

“At her…Dachsund?”

“Yes, her fur was all black just like her hair and she also had a very long mouth like her face. So, I was actually looking at both the dog and the woman, but I lingered on the latter for too long because, oh boy, I couldn’t believe it,” The more he talked the more it sounded like he was chatting with himself in a comical monologue, occasionally gluing his pupils to the wall of the kitchen or, -more fitting for the core of his spirit-, to a dish full of biscuits awaiting him on a drawer. He was so certain they were doing so, at least.

“Oh,” Izumi would have liked to fade at the sight of him approaching the furniture.

“And I’m still holding onto my theory it is nothing else but some weird urban legend that got way too much attention through centuries,” Only the contours of those patient delicacies finally took him to Earth and reminded him of his interlocutor. Still, Izumi understood she would be the one having to push him even more downwards, to the firm ground.

“It’s not still clear what we are exactly talking about, but what I am sure about is that I would rather have a boyfriend singing,” She managed to pull the dish away from his reach in time. “Than one barking,” And then she put it on the floor, to his puzzlement, bewilderment, utter bafflement.

“I have risked eating dog biscuits…” The realization hit home in a jiffy like a boulder fallen on him. His gaze got lost in a world where the kitchen had melted in a general nothingness. “Izumi, I have risked eating dog biscuits!” After an instant of shock, he brought himself to repeat that by adding his usual bizarre emphasis.

“Yes, you have,” She bursted in a breeze of giggles washing over his concerned expression but surpassing it, ignored. Their gusts failed at stealing his voice and chuckles through that powerful tenor register of his. “You wouldn’t have died, don’t worry. I’ve cooked them.”

“Eh…?” Joining her on the floor, he allowed his exaggerated worry to get replaced by a mixture of skepticism and soft surprise. “You can cook dog food too? You’re-“

“Don’t say that, please!” She promptly raised a palm in front of his nose, haughtily averting her gaze on purpose to make him roast on the grill. When she was sure her steak was ready, she winked at his slightly disappointed grimace. “Or better, don’t say it yet . This is my first attempt and I don’t know if she will like it. I’ve added some slices of strawberries here and there in the mixture because she adores them. Hm…” He instantly shrieked when Izumi reached out to put one of those biscuits in her mouth. Got so close to passing out when she picked another one and offered it to him, seriously proposing him to jump into her absurd sommelier experience. “Here. Taste it and tell me what you think. Is it wet or dry, in your opinion?”

“I-Izumi…! Don’t eat that stuff, c’mon,” He slipped on his backside far from her, near to biting his nails. If he had been a cat, his fur would have been rippled from his head to the tip of his tail. Observing that scene through a more entertained filter, he had to admit their interactions were really reminding him of the ones of a cat and a dog: weirdly, he was being the most reluctant, if not the most repulsed between them, whereas Izumi was the joyful dog…Doing certain kind of stuff without a care in the world.

“Aren’t you the one always telling people, My girlfriend is the most brilliant cook in the world. I would eat anything prepared by her: even, - guess,what-, dog food ?”

“I-I,” He didn’t know if he was stuttering because of her impeccable imitation of his gestures and tone or because it wasn’t her spinning fantasy that was speaking. Yes, he had, he seriously had: naively believing they would never turn up against him, he had pronounced those exact words in his confessions of endless love for her cooking. He had so many times, thousand and more. “Okay…I guess you won. There’s nothing I can do,” He sighed in defeat and extended his arm to her complacent smirk and the snack she was swinging back and forth. Next time he would have to be more careful about his hyperbolic compliments in her regards, -hyperbolic ones to the rest of the world but absolutely realistic to him-. “And after this”, He gave an uncertain glance at her before grabbing it. “Can I be the one calling her after this?”

“Hm, why not ? You two need to bond and I need to bond more with her too, after having…Abandoned her at Mamma’s and Papà’s for months…”

He knew she was still coping with persuading herself that had been the best choice she could ever do for her sake. He had tried reassuring her Liù would have suffered from a more drastic detachment from her usual life, if she had moved in at the same time Izumi had. She would have had lot of trouble adjusting without them around, spending her days alone in an unknown apartment while Izumi was too absorbed in finding her own place in the world of Venice, and he was drowning in rehearsals. It would have been kinda egoistical from their part, so Izumi’s parents had convinced her to leave Liù with them for a while, until they were ready to give her the house and family she really deserved. Now Izumi might be busy with the first weeks of her newborn restaurant, but she wasn’t fretting and rushing any more and could count on Junpei’s support, on the fact he was just at the beginning of another of his adventures at la Fenice theatre.

“Hey,” He chirped a bit too abruptly but with the sweetest intention to cheer her mood up, unnoticed. “Can I do it, now? Like, now, now, now?”

“What are you talking about?” She giggled as he got so close she risked to fall backwards.

“Can I call her now?”

“Oh, that ,” Her precarious pose propped up on an elbow, she pretended to be wanting to slither away from his grip. “Okay, but you need to follow my instructions,” She sneezed at some locks falling on her forehead as he brought her closer with an effortless pulling of his biceps.

“I don’t need those, Izumi. I have got my own method,” Once ensured she was safely sitting upright, he grinned at her sending a shivering hunch down her spine. “Look. No, listen, listen.”

“Junpei, I’m not…” She petrified with her hand opening and closing in the tense silence he created. She was blatantly aware about what was about to happen, but she found herself stuck before the view of a familiar routine of actions, with the exception of that scary ending phase in which he sent his hands next to the corners of his mouth, well splayed.

Oh no…

“Jun-!”

“Liù? Liù?” Junpei improvised a silly melody she thanked Heavens it wasn’t being chanted in his usual rumbling projection.

“Junpei…!”

“Liù, don’t you want your pappa? Liù ? Where is the bimba? The sweetest bimba ? Liù-Chan?”

His grin didn’t vanish under the might of her irritation. He only hopped on the spot, all of a sudden, having got startled by the glasses of the window being shaken by the howling mistral. To think it was almost spring!

“Liù hates noises and, most of all, hates noisy people,” Not stunned due to his loud song in the slightest, he could easily tell she wanted to slap him. Yet, some unknown force he thanked from the depths of his heart kept her from doing that. “She’s a lady and she needs to be treated as such. Are you listening to me? This is a serious matter.”

“I know it is, but I don’t think she hates noisy people that much,” He dared to shrug and the naughty shimmer challenging her anger gradually tiptoed to his right, accelerating when it felt it was being chased by her glare.

Izumi emitted a gasp, “But…Liù…!”

Silently, on her slender legs, Liù had stepped into the kitchen and closer to the dish. Scompering in that skinny body of hers, structured like a sleek curve culminating in the slope of a luscious tail, she had approached them ,unnoticed, and had sat down in front of the two humans like a well-mannered medieval damsel. Now she was obediently staring at them from her statuesque pose, blatantly trying holding her excitement in her bony bosom but being betrayed by her dashing heartbeat, which was making her ribs expand and contract; by her blonde ears; by her humid nose unstoppably sniffing in the relatively new environment.

In Junpei’s opinion, Liù was the most perfect specimen of female saluki existing in the world, -and also the first one he had ever seen-.

“Maybe she hates people not singing well, I guess?” He sniggered with too much confidence and Izumi gave him a harsh nudge right under his sternum.

“Have you already done this in the past?”

“Of course, I have,” He took a while to recover from the pain she had provoked him, but managed to reply her sooner than both had expected. “I know you had said I needed to learn one thing or two before starting feeding her. And I also remember you had told me she has got her own schedule, but, I mean, Izumi, I was sitting at the table, eating my pasta ai piselli and she was there, looking at me with those deer eyes… What kind of cold-hearted man would do something similar?”

“You fed her with pasta ai piselli ?! “His pupils almost got out of his orbits, noticing the futher point her more vicious elbow was going to take off from.

“No, of course, I haven’t! I searched for her food bags and I poured some food in her bowl. My pasta ai piselli was so full of water, my peas were soaking in a puddle. How could I give her that without making a mess?”

“Do you realize you are implying you would have given my dog pasta ai piselli if you had been a decent cook? !”

He would have started fiddling with his thumbs like a scolded kid, if Liù hadn’t tried catching their attention with a bark, as timid as a polite woman forcing a cough to make someone turn to her.

“You’re right, bimba,” He cracked a large smile at her. Then, he unfolded his stiff legs and clumsily crouched up to talk to the animal at her same height level. “You can eat. Buon appetito .”

“No, she can’t eat yet!” She gave a slap on his broad shoulder, but she eventually gave one onto her forehead as well, a bit disconsolate. At his jovial command, the saluki had gladly plunged her muzzle in her biscuits and she hadn’t been able to do anything about it. “She was supposed to stay. That is useful to teach her how to control impulses.”

“If you ask me, it’s so cruel,” He put his tongue on display, standing up to let the dog have her own meal in peace. She got back on her feet too after having thrown the snack she had been holding into the dish. “Wouldn’t you feel tortured if I told you to sit still in front of a dish of spaghetti alla San Giovanna ? My poor bimba !”

“I-“ What kind of conversation was even that?

“Imagine,” He insisted, dropping a whole jar of theatricality on his tongue, each finger of his flying up and down in an undulating choreography. “The smell of olives and tomato sauce spreading in your nostrils…”

“Oh, let me imagine…” She closed her orbs, mocking his silly game by making him believe she was actually thinking over it. By the time she opened them, he had already disappeared behind her, fumbling with her skein of spikes. “That’s what I already do as a cook. I can’t eat what I prepare. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do…” He mumbled, pensive, caressing her strands in awe, as if he was contemplating some prestigious manufacture sewn by a God. “You know, I think I will get used to this dog owner life, after all. Maybe a maltese dog would have been boring.”

“Oh please…” Her eyelid twitched at the mere memory from the year before, from back when he had announced he wanted to give her a candid ball of fur as birthday gift. She had acted promptly, had taken the reins of the situation by herself by dragging him into an adventure on her motorbike, without revealing him where they were going. From Naples to Pisa, Junpei had let her take him to that mysterious destination up through the peninsula, though he had just come from an exhausting train journey. “Don’t remind me of that ,” She playfully begged and pinched his puffy cheeks peeping out from her golden curtain.

“I know, I know. Besides, a maltese wouldn’t have looked like me, either. So it would have been the same thing. At least, though, when I take Liù out for a stroll,” He gently let some precious threads slip on the back of hs hand and pushed them forward, at the sides of her smooth neck, down her shoulders. “It’s a bit like if I’m going out with another beautiful blonde lady,” At the beginning, he had just intended to play with her, tenderly highlight about how keeping her hair like that, like a frame of gilded waves, would really make her look like a long-eared dog. Afterwards, however, after some seconds spent holding that silky fabric, he had fallen in love with its enchantment and , now hypnotized, he couldn’t just help indulging in his joke. He kept on going on and on, even in a more affectionate way when a cloud passed by her relaxed contentment. She should have been smiling , in his opinion: Liù had greatly appreciated her hand-made biscuits, hadn’t showed any sign of resentment towards her once more. What was she still tormenting herself over? It seemed like if she was fighting against so many forces coming to attack her in unison and he felt the urge to shine over her again.

“Hey, Izumi, do you want to hear a funny thing?”

“It’s not an offence, but you always say funny things. Otherwise you wouldn’t be Junpei, wouldn’t you?”

“But this is truly funny. Funnier than usual, if you prefer putting it like that!”

He tossed her tresses off his head and marched back to Liù, his lumbering steps sounding lighter despite the clumsy landing of his hops.

The dog had just finished eating her breakfast and was calmly cleaning her coat with her tongue. She didn’t seem bothered by the two humans barging into her quiet morning for a second time. Indeed, judging by the shy hints of a swishing tail, she was actually happy to see them again on a full belly.

“Liù, Liù, Liù, la bambina mia che sei tu ,” Junpei’s unique call made her stand on alert with excitement. Rhythmic claps and tappings against the tiles of the floor contributed to elicit even more trepidation in her active muscles. She didn’t take too long before beginning doing the same with her paws, the butterfly-shaped metallic medal of her collar dangling and jingling in the flow of her dance.

Once the right mood had been set, once he was certain Liù would follow him wherever he would go, he beckoned to the saluki to head for the living room. In the contagious heat of the fragment, he bumped into an agape Izumi who was witnessing the exchange between the man and the dog with incredulity.

“No, don’t tell me it is what I think it is,” Stuck in a frozen loop at the door of the kitchen, Junpei took advantage of that absent state of hers to involve her in a fleeting, improvised dance, her limp arms obeying to his eccentric desire, her hands falling in his without resistance and her hips spinning along with his like if they were a couple pirouetting in a carillon.

“No, like I said, it’s much, much better than whatever you think it might be.”

“I don’t think so. At all,” She told him straight into his sunny eyes in a firm whisper. “Your neighbors know well who she belongs to. They won’t come yelling at you if they hear her doing that .”

“Oh, so you know she can do that,” He wasn’t surprised in the least, but it was nice to make her blush in embarrassment once in a while, turn the tables for the life-span of an afternoon nap. “All those stories about her being a proper lady…About her not liking loud people!”

“H-Hey,” She wiggled, oscillated, opened and closed her legs, raised her fists: whatever it took to escape from his tickling trap. “ Being a lady and loving singing are two interconnected qualities. They are not enemies. As far as concerns about those loud people, instead…”

“Instead…?” He prompted, his fingers flitting around her, ready for another round.

“Your opera singing is loud, but it’s a nice loud. I’ll give you that, ok ? And a dog named after the main character of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly can’t be immune to it, I guess,” He saw her nervously cracking a grin at Liù who had hopped on the sofa and was resting on a pillow. Waiting .

“Hey!” Without prior warning, he let her go to her displeasure, no matter if his tickling was more than unbearable. That would be, -to use his own words-, much better than whatever he wanted to do, sitting at his piano and lifting the fallboard with a thud. “You don’t really want to play piano right now, at eight in the morning?!”

“Of course, I want to. I’m not supposed to make a proper lady wait, am I not?” Liù had apparently got used to that term, to the many occasions she had acknowledged humans would look at her while pronouncing it. Therefore, feeling like Junpei had just called her into question, she abandoned the comforts of her pillow and reached him. She licked his hand and gladly accepted the caresses coming in response. Then, on her haunches, she put her paws on black wood and stared at him in fibrillating expectation. “Eh eh, may I introduce you to my new soprano partner? She’s also the Great Detective Shibayama’s assistant, though, mind you! Let’s say this is just the lamest side of our life as ordinary citizens.”

”Ah…Don’t use my instructions howsoever you please, Junpei Shibayama. Honestly…” At the first row of notes propagating in the hall, she sat on the sofa and aimed the bud of a glad smile at the window.

In her soul, she was just so happy he had come to quickly find out it had never been a matter of superficial likeness.

__________________________________________

Italian notes:

Principessa: princess

Ma io dico: literally, it means “But I say…”. Still it is just some form of interaction to express disbelief (in a negative way).

Pappa: It’s a terms we use while speaking to babies and animals. It means food, technically.

Bimba and bambina: synonym for “little girl” but we use them in affectionate contexts as well. It’s a bit like “baby” I guess. I became affectionate to bimba thanks to italian dub of Lady and the Tramp. It did stick with me in the sweetest way as possible.

Pasta ai piselli: It’s pasta and peas ahaha

Spaghetti alla San Giovanna: In my family it has always been spaghetti, tomato sauce and olives. Such has to remain to them, please.

Liù, Liù, la bambina mia che sei tu: Liù, Liù, the baby you are to me. Our structures are really not that easy to translate in english sometimes? We can be free in the order of our words, in our dispositio verborum, so we it’s not always easy to translate everything. Yet, it’s just supposed to be one of those silly tunes you sing to your dog.

[mithliya]

Imma be honest with you, I consider myself a radfem, have been raised in a muslim family, my father is Lebanese (pro hezbollah type), I'm a febfem and have been repeatedly outcast for my gender non conformity (I'm highly masc) and my sexuality by my Arabic family. So we are somewhat similar.

I dont post anything about palestine on tumblr. I post on Instagram, Facebook (lost many Jewish friends doing that btw) but on tumblr because it's terribly limited for things that are not informative. I guess I'm sending this message to tell you you're not alone, there are radfems that are not pro genocide, there are women that care. Don't lose hope ❤️

thank u for the msg kind anon ❤️ i’ve been following more women who are speaking on the issue and unfollowing the ones that have only talked about israel while ignoring what is going on to palestinians. i had had enough of it. i even saw a mutual talking about how criticising jkr for only speaking on israel means ur antisemitic and support terrorism.. i’m tired of it and i just need to curate this space to fit what i prefer to see. ultimately the way i’ve seen western white women treat this issue has made me question why i should waste my time advocating for their issues when they will never spend any time doing the same for MENA women. they didn’t do it with iranian women, or afghan women, or anything else. their solidarity for us seems only to extend as far as calling muslim men horrible animals and muslim women brainwashed class traitors. my posts criticising islam get lots of notes, yet i’m an islam shill bc i draw the line at discriminatory and racist rhetoric from them. my posts about what MENA women face that reject the notion that our issues were invented (rather than reinforced) by religion are often overlooked or lead me to face harassment, my posts about racism woc face from white women gets me harassment and ppl falsely claiming i would support white women getting raped, etc like. why should i waste my time with posts about how karen is misogynistic or how the hate of pumpkin spice products is misogynistic or whatever else that is specifically used to mock white women, when more serious issues woc face are overlooked by white women? they can go focus on being called karens like it’s the most pressing problem in the world and ignore our plights and actively even be racist against us, they’re hopeless, i’ll focus on our issues the way they focus on their own. that’s been what i’ve been telling myself to cope at least lol

sorry i ended up rambling!! it’s a bad habit of mine. but point is, thank u i appreciate it

[divisionofsimilarities]

As Taliban starts restricting Afghan men, some regret staying silent - The Washington Post

I'm calling it now. The same societies that didn't care about women having their rights demolished by the Taliban are now going to see this as a humans rights issue just because it also affects men now. And if anyone asks "why didn't the men speak up?", that's because some of these men actually benefited from the Taliban's misogny and even supported them.

They didn't think that the Taliban's draconian laws would apply to them, and now they're panicking because they've realized that being complicit with an authoritarian regime wasn't going to protect them and that it was always going to come at a cost.

Unfortunately it seems that Afghan women will be forced to continue suffering and will likely be neglected as media focus will be on the men who suffer.

[beardedmrbean]

None of the 40 men housed in a Luxembourg shelter for soon-to-be-deported immigrants are from Afghanistan, nor has the Grand Duchy forcibly returned anybody there since the country’s unrecognised Taliban leadership regained power three years ago, the Ministry of Home Affairs said.

The shelter, or Maison de Retour, in Kirchberg, has space for as many as 180 people and opened at the start of September for dozens of men. Women and children are scheduled to join them from the start of October.  

The stated purpose of the shelter is to provide support to people whose applications for asylum in Luxembourg have been rejected and for whom deportation is the only remaining legal option. They are housed there while travel is arranged to their home countries or the first EU state they entered. 

Also read:

Luxembourg sets up shelter to send back failed asylum seekers

Luxembourg has not forced anybody to return to Afghanistan since the Taliban took control, but neighbouring Germany recently sent a plane of 28 failed asylum seekers back to the central Asian country. 

The deportation involved only men who had been in prison convicted of criminal offences in Germany. The arrangement took several months to make and did not involve direct talks between the German and Taliban authorities, as they have no formal diplomatic relations. Like Luxembourg, Germany has not deported any non-criminals to Afghanistan. 

“Applications of Afghan women and children for international protection, as all applications for international protection, are examined on a case-by-case basis,” Luxembourg’s Ministry of Home Affairs told the Luxembourg Times in an email this week.

Those who meet the requirements of the Geneva Convention and Luxembourg’s law on international protection from 2015 are granted protection, the ministry said. Under the Geneva Convention, an asylum seeker must have a “well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion.” The convention does not define persecution. 

Most Afghan women and children arriving in Luxembourg receive a green light to stay.

“However, in exceptional cases, mainly when the general credibility, identity, or nationality is being questioned, or if excludable acts have been committed, the applications for international protection introduced by Afghans might be rejected,” the ministry said. 

At least two Afghan women and several dependent children have been refused international protection, but not deported. The ministry did not respond to questions about the current status of the women and their children denied protection, nor what will happen to Afghan women and children not accepted for international protection in Luxembourg in the future.

Under Luxembourgish law, people granted international protection as refugees are given residence permits for five years at a time. Afghan nationals who have been refused have the option to apply for a residence permit, the ministry said. Those permits are granted for between one and five years. Both statuses include the right to work and to receive public services, but refugee status allows for family reunification and for travel outside of Luxembourg. 

Taliban oppression of women in Afghanistan has been increasing since the militant Islamist organisation wrested back control of the country in August 2021, with over 100 new laws targeting women’s freedom. Since August, women have been banned not only from showing their faces outside their own homes, but also from speaking when out. 

Luxembourg does not automatically reassess failed applications based on changing circumstances in the applicants’ home countries, the ministry said.

“But rejected asylum seekers have the possibility to file a subsequent application for international protection at any moment if they estimate that new elements or findings have arisen which relate to the examination of whether they qualify as a beneficiary of international protection,” the ministry said. 

The question of what to do with people whose applications can be rejected but cannot be returned to their home country is one Luxembourg hopes to answer in cooperation with its Schengen-area partners, Home Affairs Minister Léon Gloden has said previously.