Dec 14 2010

Selling Children For US “Success” in Laghman Province

( – promoted by buhdydharma )

Laghman

Nine-year-old Khalida Shah was eventually sold in Jalalabad, but her transformation into collateral began in Laghman Province, where her father pledged his poppy crop for a $2000 loan, and when those poppies were eradicated in a successful episode of America’s unending War on Drugs, Khalida became a “bride” of the 45-year-old creditor.

“It’s my fate,” the child says.

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  1. (Khalida’s father Sayed) Shah took his case before a tribal council in Laghman and begged for leniency. Instead, the elders unanimously ruled that Shah would have to reimburse the trafficker by giving Khalida to him in marriage.

  2. Thanks for exposing Truth and Reality.

    All of this sort of thing has gone on WHEREVER WE HAVE BEEN — it’s not new!  It’s simply been camouflaged!  

    I’ve always believed in an expression which I once read, and have since, been unable find . . . .

    . . . when we no longer revere our children, then, we have become morally corrupt, in the extreme of which is insurmountable and we have truly become lost as homosapiens!  Not exact, but, certainly, THIS is where we are at!

  3. in the wars we never asked for, nor wanted, has always made me think of Charles Aznavour.  Aznavour was/is Armenian, whose people were “savaged” by the Turkish — Aznavour and his family fled — and remained in France, many years afterwards.  At any rate, I’m sure some of you will recall his name!  I have many of his albums from years before, and, coincidentally, have had a friend in Geneva, Switzerland, for many years, who, by happenstance, is, of Armenian descent (but much after my knowledge of Aznavour!).

    Over the many years, I have listened to this song of Aznavour, I’ve always wound up in tears . . . . !

    Here are the French words (I’ve been searching for a suitable English translation, but have yet to find one).  Anyway, here are the French words!  

    Charles Aznavour Les enfants de la guerre Lyrics:Les enfants de la guerre

    Ne sont pas des enfants

    Ils ont l’âge de pierre

    du fer et du sang

    Sur les larmes de mères

    Ils ont ouvert les yeux

    Par des jours sans mystère

    Et sur un monde en feu

    Les enfants de la guerre

    Ne sont pas des enfants

    Ils ont connu la terre

    A feu et à sang

    Ils ont eu des chimères

    Pour aiguiser leur dents

    Et pris des cimetières

    Pour des jardins d’enfants

    Ces enfants de l’orage

    Et des jours incertains

    Qui avaient le visage

    Creusé par la faim

    Ont vieilli avant l’âge

    Et grandi sans secours

    Sans toucher l’héritage

    Que doit léguer l’amour

    Les enfants de la guerre

    Find more Lyrics on

    Ne sont pas des enfants

    Ils ont vu la colère

    Étouffer leurs chants

    Ont appris à se taire

    Et à serrer les poings

    Quand les voix mensongères

    Leur dictaient leur destin

    Les enfants de la guerre

    Ne sont pas des enfants

    Avec leur mine fière

    Et leurs yeux trop grand

    Ils ont vu la misère

    Recouvrir leurs élans

    Et des mains étrangères

    Égorger leurs printemps

    Ces enfants sans enfance

    Sans jeunesse et sans joie

    Qui tremblaient sans défense

    De peine et de froid

    Qui défiaient la souffrance

    Et taisaient leurs émois

    Mais vivaient d’espérance

    Sont comme toi et moi

    Des amants de misère

    De malheureux amants

    Aux amours singulières

    Aux rêves changeants

    Qui cherchent la lumière

    Mais la craignent pourtant

    Car

    Les amants de la guerre

    Sont restés des enfants  

  4. I’ve always liked Aznavour!  He is immensely talented, both in acting, his music (his words), singing and heart-felt passion!

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