He has been put in a Refugee Protection Program where he will receive a new name, a new school, and a new life. But he is refusing to go if his younger brothers cannot go with him. The three of them are like one. When he is told that they will be broken up and put in different familes, he looks at you just like he in all probability looked at the Taliban fighter who he killed.

“We are not the Taliban.”

“You are the Taliban.”

Now, the “authorities” are looking at juvenile detention for the crime of telling social workers where to stuff it. The bureaucrats take it personally. They want to punish him. They want him to be grateful. They want a big thank you from a kid who only knows war. He looks at me with his dark pools for eyes. دوی به تاسو په زندان کې ودروی. د خپل ژوند لپاره منډه ووهئ.

We are the Taliban.