In many societies, the term “child bride” calls to mind impetuous
sweethearts, a ladder cautiously positioned beneath a bedroom window, a silent
kiss in the moonlight and a young couple making an anxious getaway to a justice
of the peace. But this is not a ready image the world over. In Afghanistan, a
child bride is very often just that: a child, even a preteen, her innocence
betrothed to someone older, even much, much older.
Rather than a willing union between a man and woman, marriage is frequently a
transaction among families, and the younger the bride, the higher the price she
may fetch. Girls are valuable workers in a land where survival is scratched from
the grudging soil of a half-acre parcel. In her parents’ home, a girl can till
fields, tend livestock and cook meals. In her husband’s home, she is more useful
yet. She can have sex and bear children.
Afghanistan is not alone in this predilection toward early wedlock. Globally,
the number of child brides is hard to tabulate; they live mostly in places where
births, deaths and the human milestones in between go unrecorded. But there are
estimates. About 1 in 7 girls in the developing world (excluding China) gets
married before her 15th birthday, according to analyses done by the Population
Council, an international research group.
In the huge Indian states of Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh, the proportion is
36 percent; in Bangladesh, 37 percent; in northwest Nigeria, 48 percent; in the
Amhara region of Ethiopia, 50 percent. Tens of millions of girls are having
babies before their bodies are mature enough, increasing the likelihood of death
from hemorrhaging, obstructed labor and other complications.
Stephanie Sinclair’s striking photographs of child brides in Afghanistan
remind me of my own travels over remote landscapes during the time of the
Taliban, when recurring years of drought had parched the final resources from
millions of the destitute. Fathers then were especially keen to convert their
daughters into brides. It was a way to deliver the girl from hunger — and a way
to at least temporarily ward off famine for the rest of the family. Young boys
were sold into bondage with the same painful practicality. Rarely have I seen
anything more heartbreaking than the tears of a relinquished child.
The drought has since passed, but the poverty remains, as does the widespread
custom of early marriage. Some Afghans readily use their daughters to settle
debts and assuage disputes. Polygamy is practiced. A man named Mohammed Fazal,
45, told Sinclair that village elders had urged him to take his second wife,
13-year-old Majabin, in lieu of money owed him by the girl’s father. The two men
had been gambling at cards while also ingesting opium and hashish.
But the practice of early marriage stems as much from entrenched culture as
from financial need. Bridal virginity is a matter of honor. Afghan men want to
marry virgins, and parents prefer to yield their daughters before misbehavior or
abduction has brought the family shame and made any wedding impossible.
Unfortunately, there are no reliable data about the age of Afghans at
marriage. Husbands are not ordinarily old enough to be their wives’ fathers or
grandfathers, but such February-September couples as those pictured here are
hardly rare either. In such marriages, the man is likely to view the age
difference as a fair bargain, his years of experience in exchange for her years
of fecundity. At the same time, the girl’s wishes are customarily disregarded.
Her marriage will end her opportunities for schooling and independent work.
On the day she witnessed the engagement party of 11-year-old Ghulam Haider to
40-year-old Faiz Mohammed, Sinclair discreetly took the girl aside. “What are
you feeling today?” the photographer asked. “Nothing,” the bewildered girl
answered. “I do not know this man. What am I supposed to feel?”
_____________________________________________________________________
