Duration: 00:09:18; Aspect Ratio: 1.366:1; Hue: 60.000; Saturation: 0.001; Lightness: 0.391; Volume: 0.140; Cuts per Minute: 16.219; Words per Minute: 67.669
Summary: Date: unknown, late Parcham era
Late Parcham-era semi-doc, semi-propaganda film about orphans traumatized by war. Includes interviews with the children and footage of the state orphanages.
Footage Source: Afghan Film 35mm positive
Translated by Rajni Prakash
Democratic Republic of Afghanistan
Watan Orphanage (Watan Nursery Center)
Foundation 14 Sunbulah 1360 (5th September, 1981)
Look at these faces covered with sadness and pain
Look at these faces with no one to support them and no home
The world feels sympathy for all these children
The enemy who does not feel any sympathy, is not human
May death and disappearance be upon those who tried to steal smiles from the faces of our innocent children and leave them homeless and struggling.
It was night, and we were sleeping. Ashraar (terrorists) came to our house and knocked on the door and there was one of our neighbors who came to our house and took my dad with him. My dad immediately held his tape recorder in his hand. My mother helped him to wear his coat. The boys said, "Where is your school?" He said, "It is an hour's distance away." They took them to school. They burned our school and took my father with them and killed him.
My father asked, "Who are you? Who are you?" but there was no response. Then he told my brother to go and see who was there. My brother asked, "Who are you? Who are you?"
My father said no Muslim should kill any other Muslim. And they suddenly hit my brother and he fell down. Then they hit my younger brother whose intestines came out. He fell down into a river. Then they hit father. Then I came home, came home and opened the door. We came home. My mother took the Holy Quran into her hands. She went to all the houses and said, "come and take this away(the younger brother's body)". But no one came to take the body. In the morning, the soldiers came and we took him and buried the body. The soldiers buried the body.
My father was a soldier... (Pause) He was taking medicine, the Ashraar (this term was used for Mujahideen at that time) held him, tied his hands behind his back. They took him to the basement. They killed my father with a knife. ....
They stole moisture (tears) from a child's eyes, one who was hungry, who was ripped from his mother's arms, who had no father, no one to care for him! But the revolution did not segregate a child whose father was fighting on the side of the enemies of Ahura Mazda and saw every one of them as equal and treated them all with kindness and compassion. The child who is now peacefully sleeping ensconced in silk and soft bedding has no more grief and doesn't recognize any pain.
The child smells her mother in her friendly nurse in the orphanage who is singing her a lullaby to put her to sleep.
I am the daughter of a nomad and have my tent in a desert
I have a printed shirt which is of the colors of flowers
My bangles are clinking, I clink them myself
I color my lips with the flowers of the desert
It is so sweet, such a childish merry mood and happiness! Eternal damnation upon the enemy of humanity!
When children see us in their playroom, they immediately come forward with honesty, loyalty, and their constant smile; they come forward to shake our hands and greet us. Alas, that only lasts till a sob breaks out and tears roll down.
Eternal damnation upon you, o enemy, who have taken away the loving embrace from our child.
We will establish our land
And we will cast the enemies away, beyond the mountains
The enemy shall stay away from our land.
Cameraman: Wahidullah Ramaq
Camera: Abdul Nasir Razmi
Voice recording: Qasim Karimi
Production affairs: Mir Abubaker Atef
Orphanage Staff liaison: Zakia Hotaki
Printing and Laboratory: Farouq Nikzad
Khwaja Ahmad Shah Sediqui
Lights: Khwaja Ibrahim
Scenarist and director: Wahed Nazari