The life of a woman under the Taliban

I had a dream last night. The setting of the dream: Kabul, Afghanistan. The scary creature lurking underneath my bed: the Taliban. \nIn this dream, I could no longer work at the job I love to hate. Under the Taliban, women can't have a job outside of the home except for in the health industry. Because I am a disaster around blood and needles, my only choice is to remain at home. Even if I was to take a job in a hospital, I couldn't speak to any men and I would be permanently separated from them on the job. Eight hours on a Saturday night at a job I ignorantly take for granted now is a walk in the park compared to my job at home during this dream.\nThere are no paintings or photographs decorating the walls or bookshelves of the house that I must stay inside almost all of the time. The faces of my family and friends that I am separated from are faded memories. I have never seen the starry night of Van Gogh's imagination. I have never been swept away by Monet's lilies. \nIn 1996 when the Taliban took over, they stated that all paintings and photos promote idolatry and must be destroyed. In my dream, the only photograph I had of my mother was taken and burned as my house was raided and the only glimpse of the Western world of freedom was destroyed.\nIn my dream, my younger sister has no education and I secretly try to teach her how to read and write English. The Taliban said that women, even girls, are forbidden to be educated with males until segregated institutions are built. The construction of these is yet to begin and my hopes for my sister are farther away than ever.\nBefore the Taliban, in my dream, I read of a Dr. Martin Luther King in the United States, who fought for equality for people of different races. If only, I dreamed, could someone so powerful fight for my gender against the Taliban. \nIn my dream, I have never even heard of my girl Britney Spears. I have never heard the soothing voice of the sexy Maxwell or seen the moves of Michael Jackson on VH1 or MTV. Music is prohibited in this nightmare, as only religious chants are allowed in shops, hotels, vehicles and at parties or weddings.\nIf I want to go somewhere, I usually go by foot in this scary dream. Drivers are prohibited from giving rides to any women and will not stop, even when it is obvious that the heat is getting to me, because they face imprisonment if they get caught. Everything is punishable under this fanatical regime.\nIn this dream, my house is bare with no running water. Before the Taliban, I used to be able to go to public bathhouses; but the Taliban believes that Islam forbids men and women publicly displaying their bodies. I now find it hard to maintain personal hygiene, with no water and no income to purchase what I need because I cannot work.\n I fear that the future is hopeless. There is no road less traveled in this dream.\nI must pray to Allah five times daily, which is the only law of the Taliban that isn't hard for me. I feel like I am constantly praying to Allah, the source that seems to be the only way to escape from this terror that reigns over my life. \nI wake up in a cold sweat. After contemplating all that I just experienced in my subconscious, I finally drift back to sleep. \nI wake up to the alarm of MSNBC, my morning ritual. I am greeted by a scared Rohya, a 24-year-old woman that is talking with Marina Fazel of NBC News about life under the Taliban. \nMy dream is her reality. And as I look into the eyes of the women released by the Taliban all I see is fear.