Word: gate
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Come on, we are going out to protest," says Aman, now recognizable only by the glasses perched on the outside of her burqa mask. I follow her outside the madrasah gate where a hundred or so black-robed women chant in unison against Musharraf and Bush. A crack, a small explosion, and a cloud of acrid tear gas drifts our way, fronted by a pack of stampeding men. Apparently they tried to occupy the neighboring Environment Ministry...
...back to the gate, having lost Aman in the sea of panicking black robes. More explosions, more tear gas. And the gunshots begin. First from the mosque, then in retaliation from the rangers. We are caught in a narrow corridor, bullets slicing through the thick smoke on either side of us. Another canister of tear gas rolls past my feet, spewing cottony clouds that claw at my eyes and tear at my lungs. My sweat, picking up gas particles clinging to my clothes, burns my skin. Someone from the second floor above the gate pours a bucket of water...
...Once inside the metal gate, we suck lungfuls of air through wetted rags. Young girls pass bowls of salt. Eating salt lessens the effects of the tear gas, they say, with an air of practiced impatience. This is the second time the madrasah students have been tear-gassed; they know what to do. The afternoon call to prayer echoes through the halls, barely audible above the wails of women hurt by burns, tear-gas inhalation and, in one case, bullets. Dozens of hands push cups of water on me, conscientious, even in the middle of mayhem, about the foreigner...
...Steady gunfire continues to rattle the metal gate of the madrasah. Snipers are perched on the roof of buildings surrounding the complex. Outside, the male students are fighting with the rangers. Inside, women fill buckets of water at the tap and pass them, fireman style, out the gate to the men. They hurl bamboo staves, broom handles and water bottles over the complex wall. The bottles return, empty, and the women fill them up again and toss them back. Aman disappears out the gate. "I will do everything in my power to protect my madrasah," she says. "I am ready...
...Eventually, I take advantage of a lull in the fighting to slip out the back of the complex to the street. Adeem leaves me at the gate. Eyes still blazing, she bids me farewell. "Tell them how angry we are," she says. "Write in your story how willing we are to die for our cause." It doesn't sound like rhetoric any more. It sounds like a promise...