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Le bambine non esistono
Nonostante sia cresciuta sui monti afgani al confine con il Pakistan, in una zona molto tradizionalista, Ukmina sin da piccola va in bicicletta, gioca a pallone, si sposta da sola per le commissioni, parla da pari con gli uomini del suo villaggio.
Il motivo per cui può farlo è perché Ukmina non esiste. È un fantasma. Undicesima dopo sette femmine e tre maschi morti in fasce, quando ha compiuto un anno suo padre ha capito che ce l’avrebbe fatta e ha sentenziato: «Tu sarai un maschio, figlia mia». È un’usanza diffusa in Afghanistan, tollerata anche dai mullah: una famiglia senza figli maschi, può crescere una bambina come fosse un bambino. Per salvare l’onore e scongiurare la malasorte sui figli futuri. Malasorte che consiste nell’avere figlie femmine. Vengono chiamate bacha posh, “bambine vestite da maschio”, e sono tantissime. In virtù di un semplice cambio di abiti, Ukmina ha avuto tutta la libertà riservata agli uomini. E ha compreso fino in fondo quale prigionia sia nascere donna nel suo Paese.
Così, al raggiungimento della pubertà, quando l’usanza impone alle bacha posh di mettere il velo, sposarsi e fare figli, Ukmina si ribella. Come potrebbe, di punto in bianco, seppellirsi tra quattro mura e ricevere ordini da un marito? Sa di dover pagare con pezzi della propria anima ogni giorno di libertà, ma sa anche che ne vale la pena. Sa che solo rimanendo uomo, libero e con diritto di parola, può aiutare le donne affinché non debbano nascondersi, sotto un burqa o in abiti maschili, per esistere.
Il motivo per cui può farlo è perché Ukmina non esiste. È un fantasma. Undicesima dopo sette femmine e tre maschi morti in fasce, quando ha compiuto un anno suo padre ha capito che ce l’avrebbe fatta e ha sentenziato: «Tu sarai un maschio, figlia mia». È un’usanza diffusa in Afghanistan, tollerata anche dai mullah: una famiglia senza figli maschi, può crescere una bambina come fosse un bambino. Per salvare l’onore e scongiurare la malasorte sui figli futuri. Malasorte che consiste nell’avere figlie femmine. Vengono chiamate bacha posh, “bambine vestite da maschio”, e sono tantissime. In virtù di un semplice cambio di abiti, Ukmina ha avuto tutta la libertà riservata agli uomini. E ha compreso fino in fondo quale prigionia sia nascere donna nel suo Paese.
Così, al raggiungimento della pubertà, quando l’usanza impone alle bacha posh di mettere il velo, sposarsi e fare figli, Ukmina si ribella. Come potrebbe, di punto in bianco, seppellirsi tra quattro mura e ricevere ordini da un marito? Sa di dover pagare con pezzi della propria anima ogni giorno di libertà, ma sa anche che ne vale la pena. Sa che solo rimanendo uomo, libero e con diritto di parola, può aiutare le donne affinché non debbano nascondersi, sotto un burqa o in abiti maschili, per esistere.
160 pages, Paperback
First published October 7, 2014
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 168 reviews
February 25, 2021
The life story of an Afghan woman who started off as a Bacha Posh (a girl with short hair and in boys' clothes) and even after puberty,did not revert to living like a girl.That makes her unusual.It was a difficult choice given the resistance she encountered from society,but she persisted,with support from her father.
She chose not to get married and even became part of the Mujahideen, in a non combat role during the Soviet Afghan war.After the US invasion,she became a women's representative and helped them deal with their problems.
A straightforward narrative of a village woman,who lived a hard life through perpetual conflict but chose to keep her unique identity.
2.5 stars
She chose not to get married and even became part of the Mujahideen, in a non combat role during the Soviet Afghan war.After the US invasion,she became a women's representative and helped them deal with their problems.
A straightforward narrative of a village woman,who lived a hard life through perpetual conflict but chose to keep her unique identity.
2.5 stars
August 6, 2023
I am a Bacha Posh by Ukmina Manoori. Very short NF book about a small unknown sub-culture within Afghanistan. When a family can not bare a son. They take their new born baby girl to raise as a boy. At the age of 10-11 yrs the child then goes back to being a girl. Ukmina refused to become a girl. This is her story.
January 14, 2021
This memoir is about the author’s life journey of being a woman living as a man in Afghanistan. A choice initially made for her by her parents this young girl was told she will now be a boy, which would permit her to do manual work for her family in the place of a son. This tradition allows her all the freedoms of a male such as to travel unescorted to the market, to be educated, to work.
Then at puberty she is expected to return to the life of a young women and to be married off to the man of her parents choosing. However, once having tasted this freedom, Ukmina does not want to give it up. Defying her parents, and her religion she chooses to remain as a woman in man’s world. She remains dressed as a man, doing man’s work. She gains the respect of those she interacts with as she joins in the jihad against the Russians, she assists the Mujahideen, and she gets elected to council.
Her courage and tenacity is undeniable but she pays a heavy price— never knowing love, never marrying and having children. Although she is content, it is a lonely life.
She takes great pride in the gains she makes for women’s rights, yet by western standards the gains appear to be of little consolation. Her happiness and life’s accomplishments to her seem vast and genuine, and put into perspective of the world in which she lives, they may very well be so. Equality takes time, sometimes an eternity, or at least several lifetimes.
While her struggles are unmatched, and her small victories are applauded, we learn she feels she had little choice in this lifestyle. Being a “man” is the manner in which she was raised and she knows no other life.
The story was very fascinating but simply written. There is little development of Ukmina’s character but rather many anecdotes of her actions. It would have been interesting to know of her thoughts and feelings. One almost gets the impression that this lifestyle so thrust upon her left her devoid of her own thoughts and feelings. In that frame the story is a very sad one. Nonetheless the author seems content, not happy, but content. Sometimes that is the most one can hope for or aspire to.
3.5 stars
Then at puberty she is expected to return to the life of a young women and to be married off to the man of her parents choosing. However, once having tasted this freedom, Ukmina does not want to give it up. Defying her parents, and her religion she chooses to remain as a woman in man’s world. She remains dressed as a man, doing man’s work. She gains the respect of those she interacts with as she joins in the jihad against the Russians, she assists the Mujahideen, and she gets elected to council.
Her courage and tenacity is undeniable but she pays a heavy price— never knowing love, never marrying and having children. Although she is content, it is a lonely life.
She takes great pride in the gains she makes for women’s rights, yet by western standards the gains appear to be of little consolation. Her happiness and life’s accomplishments to her seem vast and genuine, and put into perspective of the world in which she lives, they may very well be so. Equality takes time, sometimes an eternity, or at least several lifetimes.
While her struggles are unmatched, and her small victories are applauded, we learn she feels she had little choice in this lifestyle. Being a “man” is the manner in which she was raised and she knows no other life.
The story was very fascinating but simply written. There is little development of Ukmina’s character but rather many anecdotes of her actions. It would have been interesting to know of her thoughts and feelings. One almost gets the impression that this lifestyle so thrust upon her left her devoid of her own thoughts and feelings. In that frame the story is a very sad one. Nonetheless the author seems content, not happy, but content. Sometimes that is the most one can hope for or aspire to.
3.5 stars
June 10, 2023
It takes courage to live in this world, but it takes special courage to live as an adult bacha posh (a boy living as a girl) in a society terrorized by the Taliban. Living as a bacha posh is fairly common for young girls, as it allows girls in this society to work in the community and escort their mother and sisters when they leave the home. It is rare among adult Afghan women, as most bacha posh take off their turbans and shalwar kameez at puberty to wear the burqa. Ukmina Manoori is one such, living her life as Hukomkhan, fighting the Russians with the Mujahideen, and serving and advocating for the Afghani people.
Hukomkhan's views on gender were shifting (as do ours): "I knew that I was a boy deep down inside my heart, and that the destiny of a man awaited me. I do not lie" (pp. 14-15). Later Hukomkhan said, "For me, there was no doubt that I was a girl, and I accepted that; I couldn’t change my nature. But I wanted to live as a man" (p. 19). And, "I often asked Allah: “Give me the power of men and the kindness of women.”" (p. 33). But also, "I could not trap myself in a shroud of blue and pretend to live; I would slowly die. Of shame." (p. 42).
Hukomkhan recognized that this was the right choice for him, although it wouldn't be for another girl: "Living in men’s clothing has given me a certain freedom. A life as a woman in Afghanistan is a life of destruction. You saw where I come from, and where am I now? But I do not forget what I had to give up. For me, this is not a weight, to not get married, to not have children, to grow old alone . . . but, for others? I would not advise anyone to become a bacha posh." (p. 80).
This was an interesting book, but I did not like the cover choice (mine is of a beautiful, young veiled woman with kohl-rimmed eyes). Hukomkhan described herself as having lumberjack arms, a stout belly, wrinkles and gray hair, and wearing turban and shalwar kameez. The cover felt exploitative, fetishized with an image that aroused sexual more than intellectual curiosity.
Hukomkhan's views on gender were shifting (as do ours): "I knew that I was a boy deep down inside my heart, and that the destiny of a man awaited me. I do not lie" (pp. 14-15). Later Hukomkhan said, "For me, there was no doubt that I was a girl, and I accepted that; I couldn’t change my nature. But I wanted to live as a man" (p. 19). And, "I often asked Allah: “Give me the power of men and the kindness of women.”" (p. 33). But also, "I could not trap myself in a shroud of blue and pretend to live; I would slowly die. Of shame." (p. 42).
Hukomkhan recognized that this was the right choice for him, although it wouldn't be for another girl: "Living in men’s clothing has given me a certain freedom. A life as a woman in Afghanistan is a life of destruction. You saw where I come from, and where am I now? But I do not forget what I had to give up. For me, this is not a weight, to not get married, to not have children, to grow old alone . . . but, for others? I would not advise anyone to become a bacha posh." (p. 80).
This was an interesting book, but I did not like the cover choice (mine is of a beautiful, young veiled woman with kohl-rimmed eyes). Hukomkhan described herself as having lumberjack arms, a stout belly, wrinkles and gray hair, and wearing turban and shalwar kameez. The cover felt exploitative, fetishized with an image that aroused sexual more than intellectual curiosity.
September 7, 2021
Knyga ne grožinė ir tikrai ne kažkoks literatūros perlas, bet nustebino ir pribloškė. Naivoka, šališka. Kai kuriose vietose net nelabai suprantamam gali pasirodyt nežinant platesnio konteksto kodėl ten ties sovietai atėjo į Afganistaną ir ar iš kur tas NATO. Man tiesiog buvo įdomu sužinoti apie istorines tradcjijas apie kurias nieko nežinojau.
Bacha posh- mergaitė kuri gyvena berniuko gyvenimą. Tai gana populiari Afganistane tradicija (kaip syprantu ir pakistane ar Irake), šeimoje kurioje vien mergaitės normalu vieną dukrą rengti berniukiškais rūbais ir jam perduoti tik vyrams/berniukams prieinamas pareigas bei privilegijas. Kai šeimoje daug moterų tampa sudėtinga atlikti kasdienes užduotis nes moterys be vyriškos Šeimos palydos negali išeiti iš namų. Ukmina viena iš tokių mergaičių. Kalnuose, atokiame mažame kaime. Baisumas tame, kad mergaitės patyrę berniukams prieinamas laisves, sulaukus 10ies metų amžiaus yra sugrąžinamos į mergaitišką gyvenimą. Prie puodų skalbimo ir ištekinimo vaikystėje. Ukmina labai drąsi ir skandalinga moteris. Ji sugebėjo atsilaikyti tėvo spaudimui ir liko “vyru”. Turėjo vienintelį norą, privilegiją prieinamą tik berniuakms, baigti mokyklą. Sovietams užėjus kovojo prieš juos su afganų pasipriešinimo judėjimu, jihadu. Pelnė visų pripažinimą. Jai spaudė ranką ir prezidentas ir Hilary Clinton su Michelle Obama. Valdant amerikiečiams buvo savo regiono savivaldybės narė, atstovaujanti moterų teises. Tai niekuo nesusieję su homoseksualu. Tiesiog vienintelė proga kovoti už savo šalį ir turėti kažkokias teises- būti vyru.
Visa istorija tokia neįtikėtina, kad holivudo filmas sunkiai sugalvotų tokį scenarijų. Googlinat beveik nieko neradau nes jos tapatybė ir aplinkybės pakeistos kaip suprantu dėl saugumo. Ji tapo talibano priešu nors savo kaime su pasididžiavimu ir kalašnikovu vaikšto ir sako, kad Talibai jos bijo, o ne atvirkščiai.
Labai liūdnai ir ironiškai dabartiniam kontekste atrodo knygos pabaiga. Kur Ukmina Kabule sutinka pirmąja moterį vadovaujančiose pareigose afganų armijoje. Ir užbaigia su viltimi, kad ši šalis turi ateitį. Knyga išleista 2012 metais. Ji neturėjo jokio išsilavinimo ir labiausiai akcentuojama mokslo svarba.
Sužinojau daug nes nieko net puse ausies nebuvau apie tai girdėjusi.
Klausiau audible, yra įtraukta į nemokamą katalogą
March 4, 2021
Originally published on my book blog, TheBibliophage.com.
3.5 stars rounded up
Afghani author and warrior Ukmina Manoori tells their unique story in I am a Bacha Posh: My Life as a Woman Living as a Man in Afghanistan. When they were a child, Manoori’s parents decided they needed another son. But whether due to genetics or medical situations, this didn’t happen. So, they followed an Afghan custom and designated one of their young daughters, Ukmina, to be a boy. This is the story of Ukmina’s life.
As the book progresses, Manoori uses both male and female pronouns, so I’ll use the broader they and their pronouns. I couldn’t honestly determine which pronoun Manoori prefers, and they never state it outright.
Manoori loves being male, mostly because it gives them access to things a female wouldn’t have. The primary reason why families designate daughters as Bacha Posh is because they need the extra money. It simply comes down to that. If they farm, they need more hands. Or they need a boy to go into the nearest town and work in a tea shop, because farming isn’t always profitable. Even the pittance wages a child makes are vital for these families.
And when puberty strikes, the Bacha Posh child reverts back to living as a girl. But Manoori refused to live as a girl. They kept being a boy, even persuading their father to send them to school for a short while. They preferred the rights and privileges that males have in a closed society such as Afghanistan.
The times were rocky—Manoori came of age as the Russians invaded Afghanistan. So, they worked for the resistance, using their position as a shepherd to act as a scout for Afghan fighters. Then the Taliban came, and things got even more dicey for a woman living as a man. They hid for some time, but also found ways to be accepted as the American forces started to dominate.
My conclusions
This book is just 176 pages long. I listened as a 4-hour audiobook. So, if I say much more, you’ll know the whole story. Suffice it to say, Manoori’s story is fascinating. I had no idea this tradition existed. And if not for this book, I still wouldn’t.
As Manoori tries to get some education, I thought a lot about Malala Yousafzai. Malala is considerably more famous, plus she is literate. Manoori never achieves either, but in my view tells an important story. Also, they are from completely different generations. Manoori doesn’t know their exact birth date, but it’s closer to 1970. Malala is much younger, essentially growing up under the Taliban.
As I read, I also compared this book with memoirs and novels about the trans experience set here in the U.S. Part of what intrigued me was the similarities of being trans and Manoori’s refusal to return to the female life. While the experiences aren’t exactly aligned, plenty of parallels exist between each.
Manoori hammers home the oppression that women of all ages experience in a culture like Afghanistan. I read about it a few years ago in Khaled Hosseini’s excellent book, A Thousand Splendid Suns. And, of course I then thought about those all-too-plausible fictional women as I listened to Manoori’s story.
If you’re looking for a thought-provoking, short, and culturally singular memoir, please give this little book a try. It’s in the Audible Plus catalog, and I also found it on Hoopla, which is connected to my local library. You won’t be disappointed!
3.5 stars rounded up
Afghani author and warrior Ukmina Manoori tells their unique story in I am a Bacha Posh: My Life as a Woman Living as a Man in Afghanistan. When they were a child, Manoori’s parents decided they needed another son. But whether due to genetics or medical situations, this didn’t happen. So, they followed an Afghan custom and designated one of their young daughters, Ukmina, to be a boy. This is the story of Ukmina’s life.
As the book progresses, Manoori uses both male and female pronouns, so I’ll use the broader they and their pronouns. I couldn’t honestly determine which pronoun Manoori prefers, and they never state it outright.
Manoori loves being male, mostly because it gives them access to things a female wouldn’t have. The primary reason why families designate daughters as Bacha Posh is because they need the extra money. It simply comes down to that. If they farm, they need more hands. Or they need a boy to go into the nearest town and work in a tea shop, because farming isn’t always profitable. Even the pittance wages a child makes are vital for these families.
And when puberty strikes, the Bacha Posh child reverts back to living as a girl. But Manoori refused to live as a girl. They kept being a boy, even persuading their father to send them to school for a short while. They preferred the rights and privileges that males have in a closed society such as Afghanistan.
The times were rocky—Manoori came of age as the Russians invaded Afghanistan. So, they worked for the resistance, using their position as a shepherd to act as a scout for Afghan fighters. Then the Taliban came, and things got even more dicey for a woman living as a man. They hid for some time, but also found ways to be accepted as the American forces started to dominate.
My conclusions
This book is just 176 pages long. I listened as a 4-hour audiobook. So, if I say much more, you’ll know the whole story. Suffice it to say, Manoori’s story is fascinating. I had no idea this tradition existed. And if not for this book, I still wouldn’t.
As Manoori tries to get some education, I thought a lot about Malala Yousafzai. Malala is considerably more famous, plus she is literate. Manoori never achieves either, but in my view tells an important story. Also, they are from completely different generations. Manoori doesn’t know their exact birth date, but it’s closer to 1970. Malala is much younger, essentially growing up under the Taliban.
As I read, I also compared this book with memoirs and novels about the trans experience set here in the U.S. Part of what intrigued me was the similarities of being trans and Manoori’s refusal to return to the female life. While the experiences aren’t exactly aligned, plenty of parallels exist between each.
Manoori hammers home the oppression that women of all ages experience in a culture like Afghanistan. I read about it a few years ago in Khaled Hosseini’s excellent book, A Thousand Splendid Suns. And, of course I then thought about those all-too-plausible fictional women as I listened to Manoori’s story.
If you’re looking for a thought-provoking, short, and culturally singular memoir, please give this little book a try. It’s in the Audible Plus catalog, and I also found it on Hoopla, which is connected to my local library. You won’t be disappointed!
July 19, 2018
Afghanistan is not an easy place to be female but it does have some very pragmatic ‘traditions’ that are almost certain to surprise outsiders. Girls are not much use to a family. Sure they can cook and clean but mostly they’re an expense and sooner or later the family will have to find a dowry and marry them off to another family. They can’t work outside the home and so a family with only daughters may struggle financially. Over many years a strange way of dealing with this evolved in the country. If you only have girls, dress one (or possibly more, I’m not sure) as a boy and send them out to work, running errands, helping in the fields and doing their bit to bring in some cash and ease the burden. In Kabul these boy-girls are referred to as ‘bacha posh’ but the protagonist of ‘I am a Bacha Posh’ mentions in the book that this was not a term she knew until she was much older.
Ukmina Manoori was instructed to dress as a boy by her parents and soon came to realise that the freedoms of male dress opened up a whole new world to her. Normally (though normally seems an odd word to use in the circumstances) girls who’ve dressed as boys stop when they approach the age of puberty, go back to female clothing and learn to cook and clean and prepare for life as wives and mothers. Ukmina refused to do so. Giving up the freedoms she’s achieved was too big a sacrifice so she continued to dress as a man, going into battle against the Soviet army with other mujahedeen and living her whole life as a man.
The book is written in simple style – there’s no great elegance or literary complexity but that’s the honest voice of a simple and under-educated village person. Had the author (or rather the person to whom Ukmina told her story) polished it up and written with more erudition, the story would have been spoiled. The tale is told simply – life before being a boy, life as a boy, life as a man, and eventually life as a bit of a heroine on the international political stage.
Ukmina has had an absolutely fascinating life and has shown herself to be the equal of any man. Her bravery outwardly as a fighter is clear but more impressive is the inner courage to live a lie in order to live a life. She gained freedom and respect but lost any chance to have a romantic relationship or children, taken on a celibate ‘asexual’ life instead, though you don’t get the sense that she feels she’s really missed out.
I found the book an excellent quick read – polishing it off whilst I waited for a delayed flight. It stayed with me much longer than it took to read and I was left deeply admiring this woman whom I’d never met whilst feeling angry that she grew up in a society that couldn’t value her as a woman but could only give her a sense of worth through pretence.
My one criticism – and it’s a minor one – is the ridiculous cover photo. By her own admission she’s not a beautiful woman and the big-eyed, long-lashed beauty of the cover is (in my opinion) offensive to the strength and courage of this remarkable woman.
Ukmina Manoori was instructed to dress as a boy by her parents and soon came to realise that the freedoms of male dress opened up a whole new world to her. Normally (though normally seems an odd word to use in the circumstances) girls who’ve dressed as boys stop when they approach the age of puberty, go back to female clothing and learn to cook and clean and prepare for life as wives and mothers. Ukmina refused to do so. Giving up the freedoms she’s achieved was too big a sacrifice so she continued to dress as a man, going into battle against the Soviet army with other mujahedeen and living her whole life as a man.
The book is written in simple style – there’s no great elegance or literary complexity but that’s the honest voice of a simple and under-educated village person. Had the author (or rather the person to whom Ukmina told her story) polished it up and written with more erudition, the story would have been spoiled. The tale is told simply – life before being a boy, life as a boy, life as a man, and eventually life as a bit of a heroine on the international political stage.
Ukmina has had an absolutely fascinating life and has shown herself to be the equal of any man. Her bravery outwardly as a fighter is clear but more impressive is the inner courage to live a lie in order to live a life. She gained freedom and respect but lost any chance to have a romantic relationship or children, taken on a celibate ‘asexual’ life instead, though you don’t get the sense that she feels she’s really missed out.
I found the book an excellent quick read – polishing it off whilst I waited for a delayed flight. It stayed with me much longer than it took to read and I was left deeply admiring this woman whom I’d never met whilst feeling angry that she grew up in a society that couldn’t value her as a woman but could only give her a sense of worth through pretence.
My one criticism – and it’s a minor one – is the ridiculous cover photo. By her own admission she’s not a beautiful woman and the big-eyed, long-lashed beauty of the cover is (in my opinion) offensive to the strength and courage of this remarkable woman.
March 18, 2023
My passion is unknown knowledge. This book gave me an insight into life in Afghanistan, its people, traditions, and culture. It was very informative and descriptive.
Only in Afghanistan, a girl can dress like a boy, if her parents have the misfortune of not producing a son. These girls/boys have the same privileges as the boys. But at the age of 10, they must renounce their masculine apparel and freedoms and take back feminism.
Ukmina decides to abort returning to her femininity in order to assist her mother and community.
Only in Afghanistan, a girl can dress like a boy, if her parents have the misfortune of not producing a son. These girls/boys have the same privileges as the boys. But at the age of 10, they must renounce their masculine apparel and freedoms and take back feminism.
Ukmina decides to abort returning to her femininity in order to assist her mother and community.
Read
November 21, 2017The first words Ukmina ever heard were “You will be a son, my daughter” and it set a course for her life bigger than she could ever have imagined. In Afghanistan it is an unofficial tradition of young girls to dress as boys to offer the family more freedom and to protect the family honor. The girl can then work and shop without an escort tagging along. But once adolescence is over the religious practices of Islam must be reinstated and the girls hide under the veil.
Ukmina is one of the few women who fought against losing her freedom once she became of age. She declared to her family she would live as a man. In this short biography, Ukmina walks us through her life of being a Bacha Posh and how she has been changed by her lifestyle, and how she has changed Afghanistan. She grows up to become a warrior woman, a politician, and meets Hillary Clinton and Michelle Obama. This tale is a wonderful read to understand the beauty of the Afghani countryside, and the freedoms we take for granted in the US.
-Ashley W.
Ukmina is one of the few women who fought against losing her freedom once she became of age. She declared to her family she would live as a man. In this short biography, Ukmina walks us through her life of being a Bacha Posh and how she has been changed by her lifestyle, and how she has changed Afghanistan. She grows up to become a warrior woman, a politician, and meets Hillary Clinton and Michelle Obama. This tale is a wonderful read to understand the beauty of the Afghani countryside, and the freedoms we take for granted in the US.
-Ashley W.
March 20, 2019
2.5 stars
This was an easy read but that was kind of disappointing. There was really no tension or angst around such a significant life choice. Every once in a while she (he? as someone that likes to respect people's pronouns, I'm not actually sure what this author prefers) refers to rocks being thrown at her in the past and being searched at an airport but it was all so easily glossed over.
The author was also VERY full of herself - not sure if that was due to translation or due to her being actually full of herself but she commented on her own courage and bravery a lot... which would be fine but she was comparing her own courage to people who she believed had less than her which then just makes you sound like a pompous ass.
Overall, if you have a couple hours to spend and you can find the book for .99 then yes, i would recommend... otherwise, no...
This was an easy read but that was kind of disappointing. There was really no tension or angst around such a significant life choice. Every once in a while she (he? as someone that likes to respect people's pronouns, I'm not actually sure what this author prefers) refers to rocks being thrown at her in the past and being searched at an airport but it was all so easily glossed over.
The author was also VERY full of herself - not sure if that was due to translation or due to her being actually full of herself but she commented on her own courage and bravery a lot... which would be fine but she was comparing her own courage to people who she believed had less than her which then just makes you sound like a pompous ass.
Overall, if you have a couple hours to spend and you can find the book for .99 then yes, i would recommend... otherwise, no...
May 3, 2019
I'm surprised to see some people commenting on Ukmina's "stilted" and uninformative writing. Have they somehow missed the part of the book where the author repeatedly states that she has never learned to read? Clearly, someone helped her put the story on paper, but she had to rely on nothing but her memory. The value of this story is not literary. It's a first-hand account of what the life is like for a Pashtun woman desperately fighting for some basic rights inside her small fundamentalist community. To hear these stories, a person would normally have to travel to the country's rural area, first mastering the respective language. Forget that you're reading a book. Imagine a woman dressed in long pants, a man's tunic, and a turban sitting next to you and reciting the most memorable experiences of her life, and you will thoroughly enjoy this narrative.
October 6, 2015
Short biography of the life of a Bacha Posh (girl who dresses as a boy in Afghanistan).
Whilst the story was interesting, and the woman no doubt very brave, I found the writing a little stilted.
Whilst the story was interesting, and the woman no doubt very brave, I found the writing a little stilted.
March 5, 2021
For many families in Afghanistan a young girl can be dressed as a boy and sent out to work like a son to help provide for the family...at least until about the age of 10 when they must re-enter the closed life of women inside the home. This true story is about 1 woman who refused to give up her life of freedom and respect and refused to don the veil, choosing instead a life dressed as a man even though it meant giving up marriage and family.
December 10, 2025
Libro spietato e commovente, una storia che tutte le nazi-femministe moderne dovrebbero leggere per comprendere la realtà in cui vivono loro e le realtà (di merda) del mondo esterno. Ukmina passa da essere una bacha posh a essere una guerriera, combatte contro Russi, talebani, americani e anche contro la cultura del suo stesso paese.
Donna con la D
Donna con la D
November 25, 2022
Un piccolo grande libro scritto a quattro mani, per farci conoscere una realtà lontana anni luce dalla nostra.
La storia di Ukmina, alla quale alla nascita il padre dice : "Tu sarai un maschio figlia mia!" e lei rimarrà un maschio.
Un libro per spiegare il fenomeno poco conosciuto delle bacha posh, donne che fin da bambine rinunciano al loro essere femmine per essere libere.
Poche lo rimangono per sempre, continuando a vestirsi e a comportarsi da uomini, tante a dodici anni riprendono gli abiti femminili e si preparano a vivere una vita nell'ombra e senza alcuna dignità.
La storia delle donne afghane, raccontata in maniera semplice e comprensibile, le guerre affrontate, la spietatezza dei talebani, in un linguaggio che non è mai crudo e feroce.
Bello e consigliato, per conoscere mondi opposti al nostro.
La storia di Ukmina, alla quale alla nascita il padre dice : "Tu sarai un maschio figlia mia!" e lei rimarrà un maschio.
Un libro per spiegare il fenomeno poco conosciuto delle bacha posh, donne che fin da bambine rinunciano al loro essere femmine per essere libere.
Poche lo rimangono per sempre, continuando a vestirsi e a comportarsi da uomini, tante a dodici anni riprendono gli abiti femminili e si preparano a vivere una vita nell'ombra e senza alcuna dignità.
La storia delle donne afghane, raccontata in maniera semplice e comprensibile, le guerre affrontate, la spietatezza dei talebani, in un linguaggio che non è mai crudo e feroce.
Bello e consigliato, per conoscere mondi opposti al nostro.
December 26, 2023
Thought provoking.
May 22, 2024
The concept of bacha posh is fascinating to me: in Afghanistan, a substantial number of girls are raised—temporarily—as boys, filling in the gaps in families where there are no sons. As a stand-in son, a bacha posh can play with the boys, can run errands, can hold jobs and earn money and help support the family, can have a taste of freedom. But when she hits adolescence, the veil goes on, and she is expected to return to the restricted life of a woman. Marry, have children, obey her husband in all things, never leave the house without a chaperone.
Manoori was one of these children—raised as a boy but expected to give up her freedoms when she got older. But she refused: she had grown used to those freedoms and preferred to chart her own path. This would be no small thing in Afghanistan now, and it was no small thing then; although Manoori says that she knew numerous girls in her area who temporarily took on the role of “son”, it was certainly safer to be known as a boy than as a girl who has been asked to be a boy, and it was not socially acceptable to remain as a “son” beyond adolescence. Moreover, although Manoori sees no conflict with Islam, the Taliban’s rise to power made it clear that not everyone felt the same way.
I wondered early on whether the practice of bacha posh would have been able to continue after the Taliban’s takeover in 2021. This book was published in English in 2014, so of course it predates that series of events, but it’s still relevant—because the Taliban first came to power while Manoori was coming of age and, you know, trying to live her life.
As a book, it’s okay but not amazing (I’d recommend The Underground Girls of Kabul for a more comprehensive look); Manoori doesn’t always seem to grasp that other girls and women would be perfectly capable of doing the things that she does and has done with the freedoms afforded by being outside the strict box of “female”, and the focus is really on a chronological story rather than, e.g., scenes and characterization and broader picture. (Also, while I think the cover is striking, after reading the book it mostly just seems strikingly inaccurate.)
That said, it’s a short read into an experience I know very little about, and one that feels important to understand some of the complexities of being born a girl in Afghanistan.
Manoori was one of these children—raised as a boy but expected to give up her freedoms when she got older. But she refused: she had grown used to those freedoms and preferred to chart her own path. This would be no small thing in Afghanistan now, and it was no small thing then; although Manoori says that she knew numerous girls in her area who temporarily took on the role of “son”, it was certainly safer to be known as a boy than as a girl who has been asked to be a boy, and it was not socially acceptable to remain as a “son” beyond adolescence. Moreover, although Manoori sees no conflict with Islam, the Taliban’s rise to power made it clear that not everyone felt the same way.
I wondered early on whether the practice of bacha posh would have been able to continue after the Taliban’s takeover in 2021. This book was published in English in 2014, so of course it predates that series of events, but it’s still relevant—because the Taliban first came to power while Manoori was coming of age and, you know, trying to live her life.
As a book, it’s okay but not amazing (I’d recommend The Underground Girls of Kabul for a more comprehensive look); Manoori doesn’t always seem to grasp that other girls and women would be perfectly capable of doing the things that she does and has done with the freedoms afforded by being outside the strict box of “female”, and the focus is really on a chronological story rather than, e.g., scenes and characterization and broader picture. (Also, while I think the cover is striking, after reading the book it mostly just seems strikingly inaccurate.)
That said, it’s a short read into an experience I know very little about, and one that feels important to understand some of the complexities of being born a girl in Afghanistan.
September 19, 2018
I saw this book on Overdrive and wanted to read it because I've read and enjoyed The Pearl That Broke Its Shell and The Underground Girls of Kabul: In Search of a Hidden Resistance in Afghanistan and both enjoyed them and learned from them.
Unfortunately this book was a disappointment. It was very readable, but I didn't really learn anything that hadn't been covered in the other books, and I really didn't like the author very much. Sometimes I was confused, as when the author stated "Families without sons and without descendants have the right to cross-dress one of their daughters to preserve the family’s honor." However, she had an older brother, and she really didn't explain why her family was allowed a bacha posh. She also states "A woman cannot gain freedom just by changing her clothing.", but she has done exactly that!
I also found her personality annoying. Admittedly there may have been something lost in the translation, but while she bemoaned the fate of women in her country, she also adopted the same arrogant attitude as the males of her country, implying that women weren't good enough or worthy, with comments about the weakness of women, etc.
If you've not read either of the other books, you may enjoy this look into the life of one bacha posh, but truthfully, if you are interested in the subject, I recommend you pick up either of the other books first!
Unfortunately this book was a disappointment. It was very readable, but I didn't really learn anything that hadn't been covered in the other books, and I really didn't like the author very much. Sometimes I was confused, as when the author stated "Families without sons and without descendants have the right to cross-dress one of their daughters to preserve the family’s honor." However, she had an older brother, and she really didn't explain why her family was allowed a bacha posh. She also states "A woman cannot gain freedom just by changing her clothing.", but she has done exactly that!
I also found her personality annoying. Admittedly there may have been something lost in the translation, but while she bemoaned the fate of women in her country, she also adopted the same arrogant attitude as the males of her country, implying that women weren't good enough or worthy, with comments about the weakness of women, etc.
If you've not read either of the other books, you may enjoy this look into the life of one bacha posh, but truthfully, if you are interested in the subject, I recommend you pick up either of the other books first!
April 4, 2023
Racconto di una realtà dura, a molti ancora sconosciuta. Un dissidio interno che una ragazza vive pur di sentirsi libera. Consiglio di leggerlo. Una grande testimonianza di forza, caparbietà e coraggio.
non-fiction
June 10, 2023"Ho assaporato la libertà degli uomini, ho visto le ragazze della mia età scomparire dalle strade e diventare invisibili. Per me non è più possibile tornare indietro. Se mi arrendessi, se non avessi il coraggio di dire no, ne proverei addirittura vergogna"
Come sempre, quando si parla di biografie o storie vere, io non do mai il voto. Non ritengo sia giusto dare una valutazione al vissuto, felice o triste che sia, di una persona o di un evento storico che ha coinvolto la vita tante persone.
Premettendo che queste saranno le opinioni e le idee di una persona che si sta informando su questi eventi e queste storie in modo autonomo, senza guide o indicazioni accademiche. Di conseguenza NON ho le competenze necessarie per giudicare certi eventi o certe scelte, in quanto ancora molto ignorante in materia.
Non farò una recensione per i motivi soprascritti, ma vi darò delle motivazioni per le quali io ritengo che questo libro sia una lettura necessaria e IMPORTANTE per tutti.
Questo libro tratta della storia di Ukmina, bambina afgana, che viene cresciuta come un maschio. Pratica molto diffusa in Afghanistan e tollerata dai mullah (=cultore delle scienze religiose musulmane): una famiglia senza maschi può crescere una bambina come bambino, in modo che questi possa essere d'aiuto alla famiglia, fino al momento della pubertà, quando riprenderà la vita "da femmina". Ma non è il caso di Ukmina.
Io credo che questo libro sia una lettura importante soprattutto per noi occidentali privilegiati, per conoscere una realtà diversa ma non così lontana come ci sembra quando leggiamo i giornali o guardiamo il tg. Con questo libro abbiamo la possibilità di conoscere una storia magnifica e tremenda dagli occhi di una bambina che precocemente ha dovuto lottare per la sua vita: prima nella società chiusa del paese dove viveva, poi sotto la dittatura dei talebani e infine sotto la "democrazia" americana.
Ma cosa vuole dire per Hukmina rimanere "maschio" e nascondere la sua natura di donna? Molto semplice, vuol dire poter andare in bicicletta, al mercato, poter accedere all'istruzione (che, attenzione, è poco più di leggere e far di conto). Vuole dire anche rinunciare ad avere figli o al matrimonio.
"Non mi stanco mai del paesaggio imponente che si offre al mio sguardo. Il mio Paese, per il quale sono pronta a morire". La cosa più bella di Hukmina è che ama profondamente la sua terra, per la quale lotterà tutta la vita.
"Sono entrata in guerra che ero adolescente, ne esco nell'età in cui sarei dovuta essere sposata e con figli. La guerra mi ha offerto un altro destino." Ukmina è una donna che ha trovato libertà nel conflitto politico-armato, che gli ha dato anche la possibilità di affermarsi e di vedere il suo valore riconosciuto. Conserva la speranza, anche quando tutto il suo mondo era stato distrutto dalle potenze nemiche, ed era tutto da ricostruire partendo da niente. Dopo i terribili eventi della guerra, Ukmina deciderà definitivamente di vivere con un aspetto maschile, continuando a godere dei privilegi che ciò comporta. Dopo questo primo conflitto il paese di Ukmina conoscerà la brutalità dei talebani.
Successivamente alla partita dei talebani, nella città di Hukmina si parla sempre più di democrazia, parola per la quale non esiste traduzione in pashtu (=lingua iranica parlata in Afghanistan e Pakistan). Le donne avranno il diritto di votare, ma non potranno mai esercitarlo. Le donne pashtun hanno interiorizzato il principio di inferiorità che gli è stato imposto. e non riescono a ribellarsi. La democrazia rimane quindi un concetto "poco raccomandabile", un po' (forse) anche per incomprensione. Viene coniata infatti una parola "amakrasi= tutto possono fare qualunque cosa e le donne rimangono emancipate".
Come riflette però Hukmina, la democrazia è occidente e l'occidente non controlla le sue donne. Hukmina non si lascia fermare: prende il suo primo certificato elettorale e decide di usare la democrazia come "arma" per dare voce e spazio alle donne e agli afgani. Creerà spazi istituzioni e luoghi sicuri per le donne che subiscono violenze e torture. Capisce che però per il suo popolo non ci sarà mai una vera svolta finché mancherà l'istruzione, ovvero ciò che permetterebbe a tante persone di riscattare il proprio futuro.
La parte del libro che mi ha più sconvolto è stato il momento dove si parla della permanenza delle truppe americane (anno di riferimento citato sul libro: 2011). Ci viene raccontato della speranza che veniva riposta negli americani, al loro arrivo intorno al 2001, per liberarsi dall'oppressione talebana e da come, in un solo decennio, la speranza sia diventata quella di salutare gli americani per sempre. Parla di come il terrore provato precedentemente durante la guerra con i russi fosse tornato con gli americani, di come seppure con metodi differenti "fanno la stessa cosa". Parla dei buoni intenti degli americani di ricostruire un paese come l'Afghanistan, distribuendo cibo, senza pensare a ripristinare necessità base e fondamentali, come le strade. La simpatia degli afghani nei confronti degli americani scompare definitivamente nel 2008.
Per concludere in bello: nelle ultime pagine, Ukmina parla della gioia e dell'orgoglio ogni volta che una donna riesce a realizzarsi, uscire dagli schemi oppressori della società (ad es. intraprendendo la carriera militare) e di come ognuna di queste donne possa a sua volta infondere coraggio in altre donne a sua volta. Ukmina parla di quanto ami il suo Paese, che stava cambiando in meglio e che forse riusciva ad essere indipendente per la prima volta da tanto. Purtroppo dagli avvenimenti degli ultimi anni, sappiamo questa speranza e questo sogno non si sono mai concretamente realizzati. E questo pensiero mi devasta.
Questo libro è stato una giostra di emozioni, l'una più diversa dall'altra ma tutte ugualmente profonde e sincere. In tanti punti ho faticato a realizzare che quello di cui leggevo era reale e che molto probabilmente sono esistite ed esisteranno situazioni altrettanto difficili e dolorose. Questo libro è una secchiata di consapevolezza, soprattutto per chi queste storie è abituato ad ascoltarle come una storia, a percepirle come qualcosa di non vero e lontano che mai li coinvolgerà. Io spero che sempre più persone si approcceranno a questa lettura, poco frivola ma di fondamentale importanza.
Come sempre, quando si parla di biografie o storie vere, io non do mai il voto. Non ritengo sia giusto dare una valutazione al vissuto, felice o triste che sia, di una persona o di un evento storico che ha coinvolto la vita tante persone.
Premettendo che queste saranno le opinioni e le idee di una persona che si sta informando su questi eventi e queste storie in modo autonomo, senza guide o indicazioni accademiche. Di conseguenza NON ho le competenze necessarie per giudicare certi eventi o certe scelte, in quanto ancora molto ignorante in materia.
Non farò una recensione per i motivi soprascritti, ma vi darò delle motivazioni per le quali io ritengo che questo libro sia una lettura necessaria e IMPORTANTE per tutti.
Questo libro tratta della storia di Ukmina, bambina afgana, che viene cresciuta come un maschio. Pratica molto diffusa in Afghanistan e tollerata dai mullah (=cultore delle scienze religiose musulmane): una famiglia senza maschi può crescere una bambina come bambino, in modo che questi possa essere d'aiuto alla famiglia, fino al momento della pubertà, quando riprenderà la vita "da femmina". Ma non è il caso di Ukmina.
Io credo che questo libro sia una lettura importante soprattutto per noi occidentali privilegiati, per conoscere una realtà diversa ma non così lontana come ci sembra quando leggiamo i giornali o guardiamo il tg. Con questo libro abbiamo la possibilità di conoscere una storia magnifica e tremenda dagli occhi di una bambina che precocemente ha dovuto lottare per la sua vita: prima nella società chiusa del paese dove viveva, poi sotto la dittatura dei talebani e infine sotto la "democrazia" americana.
Ma cosa vuole dire per Hukmina rimanere "maschio" e nascondere la sua natura di donna? Molto semplice, vuol dire poter andare in bicicletta, al mercato, poter accedere all'istruzione (che, attenzione, è poco più di leggere e far di conto). Vuole dire anche rinunciare ad avere figli o al matrimonio.
"Non mi stanco mai del paesaggio imponente che si offre al mio sguardo. Il mio Paese, per il quale sono pronta a morire". La cosa più bella di Hukmina è che ama profondamente la sua terra, per la quale lotterà tutta la vita.
"Sono entrata in guerra che ero adolescente, ne esco nell'età in cui sarei dovuta essere sposata e con figli. La guerra mi ha offerto un altro destino." Ukmina è una donna che ha trovato libertà nel conflitto politico-armato, che gli ha dato anche la possibilità di affermarsi e di vedere il suo valore riconosciuto. Conserva la speranza, anche quando tutto il suo mondo era stato distrutto dalle potenze nemiche, ed era tutto da ricostruire partendo da niente. Dopo i terribili eventi della guerra, Ukmina deciderà definitivamente di vivere con un aspetto maschile, continuando a godere dei privilegi che ciò comporta. Dopo questo primo conflitto il paese di Ukmina conoscerà la brutalità dei talebani.
Successivamente alla partita dei talebani, nella città di Hukmina si parla sempre più di democrazia, parola per la quale non esiste traduzione in pashtu (=lingua iranica parlata in Afghanistan e Pakistan). Le donne avranno il diritto di votare, ma non potranno mai esercitarlo. Le donne pashtun hanno interiorizzato il principio di inferiorità che gli è stato imposto. e non riescono a ribellarsi. La democrazia rimane quindi un concetto "poco raccomandabile", un po' (forse) anche per incomprensione. Viene coniata infatti una parola "amakrasi= tutto possono fare qualunque cosa e le donne rimangono emancipate".
Come riflette però Hukmina, la democrazia è occidente e l'occidente non controlla le sue donne. Hukmina non si lascia fermare: prende il suo primo certificato elettorale e decide di usare la democrazia come "arma" per dare voce e spazio alle donne e agli afgani. Creerà spazi istituzioni e luoghi sicuri per le donne che subiscono violenze e torture. Capisce che però per il suo popolo non ci sarà mai una vera svolta finché mancherà l'istruzione, ovvero ciò che permetterebbe a tante persone di riscattare il proprio futuro.
La parte del libro che mi ha più sconvolto è stato il momento dove si parla della permanenza delle truppe americane (anno di riferimento citato sul libro: 2011). Ci viene raccontato della speranza che veniva riposta negli americani, al loro arrivo intorno al 2001, per liberarsi dall'oppressione talebana e da come, in un solo decennio, la speranza sia diventata quella di salutare gli americani per sempre. Parla di come il terrore provato precedentemente durante la guerra con i russi fosse tornato con gli americani, di come seppure con metodi differenti "fanno la stessa cosa". Parla dei buoni intenti degli americani di ricostruire un paese come l'Afghanistan, distribuendo cibo, senza pensare a ripristinare necessità base e fondamentali, come le strade. La simpatia degli afghani nei confronti degli americani scompare definitivamente nel 2008.
Per concludere in bello: nelle ultime pagine, Ukmina parla della gioia e dell'orgoglio ogni volta che una donna riesce a realizzarsi, uscire dagli schemi oppressori della società (ad es. intraprendendo la carriera militare) e di come ognuna di queste donne possa a sua volta infondere coraggio in altre donne a sua volta. Ukmina parla di quanto ami il suo Paese, che stava cambiando in meglio e che forse riusciva ad essere indipendente per la prima volta da tanto. Purtroppo dagli avvenimenti degli ultimi anni, sappiamo questa speranza e questo sogno non si sono mai concretamente realizzati. E questo pensiero mi devasta.
Questo libro è stato una giostra di emozioni, l'una più diversa dall'altra ma tutte ugualmente profonde e sincere. In tanti punti ho faticato a realizzare che quello di cui leggevo era reale e che molto probabilmente sono esistite ed esisteranno situazioni altrettanto difficili e dolorose. Questo libro è una secchiata di consapevolezza, soprattutto per chi queste storie è abituato ad ascoltarle come una storia, a percepirle come qualcosa di non vero e lontano che mai li coinvolgerà. Io spero che sempre più persone si approcceranno a questa lettura, poco frivola ma di fondamentale importanza.
January 1, 2023
This is quite a fascinating book. Ukmina Manoori was born in rural Afghanistan to parents who had experienced so much loss already. After the birth of her brother, her mother lost the next ten children born to her until Ukmina came along. It was then that her father made the fateful decision to raise Ukmina as a boy, an option for the Pashtun people when there aren’t enough boys in the family. In this way, the child can leave the house alone, without a chaperone, and can run errands, do chores, and even hold a job. Girls can do none of these things; Afghan society runs along very strict gender lines. Women stay at home and are taught not to have any aspirations outside of getting married and raising a family. This is what makes Manoori unique because she fought against the Soviets like a man would, and even made the holy trip to Mecca.
It’s interesting to read how Manoori sees herself (I am using feminine pronouns because she herself does when referring to herself in the third person), not quite a man but not quite a woman. She is proud that she is large and loud and confident like a man, but she also enjoys being softer and more kind like a woman. She is proud of her courage and her bravery, and she likes being able to travel between the gender lines: “I walk through walls, I am an angel, I come and go across the borders drawn between men and women!”
It’s such a difficult existence to endure in rural Afghanistan, and this book takes place before the reemergence of the Taliban after the Americans left last year. Manoori wanted to see more women in all aspects of Afghan life, starting with education, which the Taliban is now denying to women and girls. I’d be interested to see a follow-up with Manoori now, with all the recent changes.
It’s interesting to read how Manoori sees herself (I am using feminine pronouns because she herself does when referring to herself in the third person), not quite a man but not quite a woman. She is proud that she is large and loud and confident like a man, but she also enjoys being softer and more kind like a woman. She is proud of her courage and her bravery, and she likes being able to travel between the gender lines: “I walk through walls, I am an angel, I come and go across the borders drawn between men and women!”
It’s such a difficult existence to endure in rural Afghanistan, and this book takes place before the reemergence of the Taliban after the Americans left last year. Manoori wanted to see more women in all aspects of Afghan life, starting with education, which the Taliban is now denying to women and girls. I’d be interested to see a follow-up with Manoori now, with all the recent changes.
July 17, 2021
This book is about a very peculiar cultural phenomenon,
“bacha posh,”
which is practiced in Afghanistan exclusively. I already knew about it from various articles on the Internet but quite superficially, of course. Recently, I also watched an aminated movie, “The Breadwinner” (2017), which reinforced my desire to learn more about it (although now I understand that the situation shown in the movie is NOT a normal/typical “bacha posh” case).
First of all, it should be said that Ukmina Manoori had not written this book, of course. She is illiterate, so she cannot even READ what is written in “her” book. The book was written by a “technical writer,” Stephanie Lebrun, who apparently made a great effort to interview Ukmina Manoori and compose something readable from her story. You can feel this artificiality and probably the lack of enthusiasm of the technical writer. It’s readable but nothing else. Not interesting, not deep, not colorful. Just a simple story of a quite miserable life.
(There are many books about Middle East people today that are written in the same manner — by some proxy Western technical writers or in close “collaboration” with such writers, and such books are almost always a disappointment. A normal journalistic investigation / normal non-fiction book would be much more useful and interesting than these feeble imitations of “live voices from the Middle East.” I feel sorry about Middle East people who are deprived of their right to write and publish their own stories, who cannot reflect upon their societies on a more intellectual level, who cannot record their own history. Generations after generations of people are born and die without leaving anything for humanity.)
Still, you can learn some stuff about “bacha posh” and Afghanistan society overall from the book, of course, both directly and indirectly.
In this context, it is also necessary to remark that Ukmina Manoori is not a typical “bacha posh.” She is in fact highly atypical, although her personal case also shows you the margins to which the phenomenon could stretch theoretically.
Typical “bacha posh” girls are raised as boys for the first 10-12 years of their life, and in most cases, they return to “normal” girl/woman’s lives with puberty. Of course, their life as “normal” girls/women is more difficult for them after their “bacha posh” experience and they are often seriously discriminated (mostly by their future husbands and their families), but they commonly become very regular wives and mothers and live as all the women afterward. So the “bacha posh” phenomenon is mostly limited to very young children, and this is probably the key reason of a high tolerance of it in this (very conservative in terms of gender “appropriateness”) society.
Some “bacha posh” girls refuse to become “normal” girls/women after puberty, and if the societal/parental pressure is not strong enough, they are allowed to stay like this. In such a case, they mostly live a quite secluded and miserable life, and Afghan people generally believe that they already pay a high price for their freedoms of staying in men’s clothing and doing men’s things — such women never marry and never have children, and this is a huge stigma in this society. Well, and they never have much “freedoms” anyway (they are free to go outside without a male “escort,” they are free to buy food at the market by themselves, they are free to ride a bicycle, etc., but such little things do not make them “equal” to men, and they cannot do many other things). Still, some women (very few) prefer this way of life, and Afghan communities never make much fuss about it. Every village can have its own weirdo, and adult “bacha posh” women are just one kind of them. (Surely, this is NOT anything like the life of a transgender/gender-nonconforming person in Western society.)
I also learned (indirectly) an important detail from this book: although such strange inversions of gender roles are definitely based on a repressed position of women in Afghanistan, you should not think that this is because of the Taliban and all the related events of the recent years. No, the “bacha posh” practice is actually quite ancient (at least one century old, and probably much older) and it is a product of traditional Afghan society. Quite the contrary, the Taliban (as any other radical religious movements) believes that this is an abomination, and so when the Taliban captures the region/country, all “bacha posh” girls/women should promptly become “normal” girls/women if they do not want to die a painful death.
Ukmina Manoori was very atypical in that sense that she not only refused to become a “normal” girl/woman and feels pretty happy about it (she is most probably asexual by nature and was never interested in men and marriage, and she does not like children, so she feels pretty much OK about her life choice), but she also became quite famous at some point (as a person who participated in the war) and even came into politics and got some recognition at the international level (and well, this book was written because of it, after all). Still, it’s a quite simple person and simple life, as I said.
She looks like this today:
Yeah, you can see a “normal” Afghan woman on the background behind her.
And here you can understand why is believe that this cover is not only inappropriately glamorous but simply IDIOTIC:
I hope Ukmina is OK right now, but this is probably not the case as the Taliban is returning to Afghanistan these days… The last time when the Taliban was in the area where she lives, she just preferred not to go outside, and she was seriously afraid for her life.
I do not regret that I read this book but I cannot recommend it much and I hope that I would read something deeper and more intellectual about Afghanistan sooner or later.
First of all, it should be said that Ukmina Manoori had not written this book, of course. She is illiterate, so she cannot even READ what is written in “her” book. The book was written by a “technical writer,” Stephanie Lebrun, who apparently made a great effort to interview Ukmina Manoori and compose something readable from her story. You can feel this artificiality and probably the lack of enthusiasm of the technical writer. It’s readable but nothing else. Not interesting, not deep, not colorful. Just a simple story of a quite miserable life.
(There are many books about Middle East people today that are written in the same manner — by some proxy Western technical writers or in close “collaboration” with such writers, and such books are almost always a disappointment. A normal journalistic investigation / normal non-fiction book would be much more useful and interesting than these feeble imitations of “live voices from the Middle East.” I feel sorry about Middle East people who are deprived of their right to write and publish their own stories, who cannot reflect upon their societies on a more intellectual level, who cannot record their own history. Generations after generations of people are born and die without leaving anything for humanity.)
Still, you can learn some stuff about “bacha posh” and Afghanistan society overall from the book, of course, both directly and indirectly.
In this context, it is also necessary to remark that Ukmina Manoori is not a typical “bacha posh.” She is in fact highly atypical, although her personal case also shows you the margins to which the phenomenon could stretch theoretically.
Typical “bacha posh” girls are raised as boys for the first 10-12 years of their life, and in most cases, they return to “normal” girl/woman’s lives with puberty. Of course, their life as “normal” girls/women is more difficult for them after their “bacha posh” experience and they are often seriously discriminated (mostly by their future husbands and their families), but they commonly become very regular wives and mothers and live as all the women afterward. So the “bacha posh” phenomenon is mostly limited to very young children, and this is probably the key reason of a high tolerance of it in this (very conservative in terms of gender “appropriateness”) society.
Some “bacha posh” girls refuse to become “normal” girls/women after puberty, and if the societal/parental pressure is not strong enough, they are allowed to stay like this. In such a case, they mostly live a quite secluded and miserable life, and Afghan people generally believe that they already pay a high price for their freedoms of staying in men’s clothing and doing men’s things — such women never marry and never have children, and this is a huge stigma in this society. Well, and they never have much “freedoms” anyway (they are free to go outside without a male “escort,” they are free to buy food at the market by themselves, they are free to ride a bicycle, etc., but such little things do not make them “equal” to men, and they cannot do many other things). Still, some women (very few) prefer this way of life, and Afghan communities never make much fuss about it. Every village can have its own weirdo, and adult “bacha posh” women are just one kind of them. (Surely, this is NOT anything like the life of a transgender/gender-nonconforming person in Western society.)
I also learned (indirectly) an important detail from this book: although such strange inversions of gender roles are definitely based on a repressed position of women in Afghanistan, you should not think that this is because of the Taliban and all the related events of the recent years. No, the “bacha posh” practice is actually quite ancient (at least one century old, and probably much older) and it is a product of traditional Afghan society. Quite the contrary, the Taliban (as any other radical religious movements) believes that this is an abomination, and so when the Taliban captures the region/country, all “bacha posh” girls/women should promptly become “normal” girls/women if they do not want to die a painful death.
Ukmina Manoori was very atypical in that sense that she not only refused to become a “normal” girl/woman and feels pretty happy about it (she is most probably asexual by nature and was never interested in men and marriage, and she does not like children, so she feels pretty much OK about her life choice), but she also became quite famous at some point (as a person who participated in the war) and even came into politics and got some recognition at the international level (and well, this book was written because of it, after all). Still, it’s a quite simple person and simple life, as I said.
She looks like this today:
Yeah, you can see a “normal” Afghan woman on the background behind her.
And here you can understand why is believe that this cover is not only inappropriately glamorous but simply IDIOTIC:
I hope Ukmina is OK right now, but this is probably not the case as the Taliban is returning to Afghanistan these days… The last time when the Taliban was in the area where she lives, she just preferred not to go outside, and she was seriously afraid for her life.
I do not regret that I read this book but I cannot recommend it much and I hope that I would read something deeper and more intellectual about Afghanistan sooner or later.
January 21, 2024
Un racconto tanto importante quanto commovente.
September 11, 2025
"Come Badgai, dovevo portare la parola del mio popolo fino ai dirigenti del nostro Paese. Bisognava dare loro quello che davvero mancava per far evolvere la mentalità: l'istruzione, tornavamo sempre lì".
April 2, 2022
Took me forever to read because I have been so busy lately but what an eye opening memoir. Simply but honestly written. I definitely recommend this read to understand the lives of some women in the Middle East.
August 1, 2024
An interesting read, very interesting human. Not what we would call a transman but possibly transmasc. Very informative but some internalized bias.
March 4, 2025
Should be read just for the education.
February 19, 2020
I am a Bacha Posh is memoir with necessary autobiographical elements. It is not fiction and thus will not have fictional elements of rising and falling tension. Manoori shares her life, the only life she knows, of growing up in a small rural village in Afghanistan during the 1980s. Russian aggression, US intervention, and the rise of the Taliban are experienced through the eyes of a child and young adult who wonders what they ever did to the government or the Russians to deserve the bombing and destruction of their way of life.
As Ukmina saw the disparity in the way women and children were, by custom and religion, treated, she chose, perhaps first in innocence but later in growing conscience, to lead a revolt. Manoori lives out the strange custom of allowing a daughter to dress and act like a boy until puberty to allow the child freedom to travel and work to support the family, and even attend school. When puberty comes, Manoori isn’t ready or willing to give up the freedoms allowed a boy in a Muslim community. Although everyone around her knew she was a woman, she lived a warrior life, taking on the two-faced facets of ethnic religion and politics and forcing the troubled ideologies into the light.
I don’t know that the story makes me rethink gender. Manoori is not a lesbian, or even sexual, self-identifies as a woman, and not transgender. She’s more of an Amazon, a woman unafraid to be a frontrunner in defiance of ridiculous false male dominance. Manoori saw how traditional male and female roles didn’t even pretend to work in a society where men were supposed to take care of their family and women were supposed to be homemakers. When a husband has daughters who are not allowed to be out unescorted in public and traditionally not allowed to work or get an education, he can arbitrarily circumvent society by changing the “norm” and treat a daughter as a son. Manoori learned that her culture did not practice the laws it passed, such as women had the right to vote since the 1960s, and decided to help women—everyone—create a safe and relevant environment in her beloved country.
Told in a haunted voice from her gut, Manoori’s tale is a plea both for understanding and acceptance. It’s a call to action to rise above uncertainty and injustice and to live true.
As Ukmina saw the disparity in the way women and children were, by custom and religion, treated, she chose, perhaps first in innocence but later in growing conscience, to lead a revolt. Manoori lives out the strange custom of allowing a daughter to dress and act like a boy until puberty to allow the child freedom to travel and work to support the family, and even attend school. When puberty comes, Manoori isn’t ready or willing to give up the freedoms allowed a boy in a Muslim community. Although everyone around her knew she was a woman, she lived a warrior life, taking on the two-faced facets of ethnic religion and politics and forcing the troubled ideologies into the light.
I don’t know that the story makes me rethink gender. Manoori is not a lesbian, or even sexual, self-identifies as a woman, and not transgender. She’s more of an Amazon, a woman unafraid to be a frontrunner in defiance of ridiculous false male dominance. Manoori saw how traditional male and female roles didn’t even pretend to work in a society where men were supposed to take care of their family and women were supposed to be homemakers. When a husband has daughters who are not allowed to be out unescorted in public and traditionally not allowed to work or get an education, he can arbitrarily circumvent society by changing the “norm” and treat a daughter as a son. Manoori learned that her culture did not practice the laws it passed, such as women had the right to vote since the 1960s, and decided to help women—everyone—create a safe and relevant environment in her beloved country.
Told in a haunted voice from her gut, Manoori’s tale is a plea both for understanding and acceptance. It’s a call to action to rise above uncertainty and injustice and to live true.
October 7, 2020
Informative & compassionate
Easy & quick to read. A true accoun of a child and woman's life in another culture where we have sent troops. A reminder of how straightjackets are imposed, choices are inhibited, yet how individual will can prevail.
Easy & quick to read. A true accoun of a child and woman's life in another culture where we have sent troops. A reminder of how straightjackets are imposed, choices are inhibited, yet how individual will can prevail.
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