Fayr, Fayr (the sound of gunfire)- Written by Nader Musavi- 29 October 2020

Ahmad was new to Iran and he’s a first grader now. Ahmad memorised the school poem, which we gave him when he was signing up, just like any other student in our school. He could read the poem fluently. When we asked him about Afghanistan, he said he didn’t like it. “There were lots of fayr, fayr (the sound of gunfire) sounds in Afghanistan” he said. When Ahmad told us that he’s afraid of the sound of gunfire, I remembered my own childhood. Our house was near the main Kabul – Mazar-e Sharif road. Soviet tanks were always passing by the back of our house. In times of conflict, it seemed like they shot every bullet they had at the walls and door of our garden and our house. We used to hold on to our grandfather’s legs until the fireworks were finished, as my little sister always said.

I recall that once the Mujahedeen blocked the way of a Soviet tank column, so the shooting lasted for 2 or 3 hours. Soviet forces shot at our village, in which our house was the first house, until they ran out of bullets. I was really afraid of gunfire, much more than my siblings. That night, because the shooting lasted a long time, I hugged my grandfather’s leg, cried and wet my bed. Now, after about forty years, the story still hasn’t come to an end. Gunfire is heard everywhere, scaring kids.

When Ahmad read the school poem, he made me so happy. I was glad that some part of his mind was now filled with beautiful words and pictures. The school poem, which is also a reflection of the school’s policy, is given to every student during the registration process every year. Fortunately, most of our students remember this poem before their classes start. About five years ago, I asked Mr Norouzi, children’s poet, to write a poem for us. He did so: