May 5, 2003
The good news, travelling from Afghanistan via Kingston to Toronto, was worth the late-night call: "Sharif U Din is alive and well in Girishk, in southern Afghanistan.
The last time I saw Sharif was at Pearson International Airport. And that was 16 years ago.
Just 14-years-old at the time, he was returning to the Soviet-Afghan war, following a few months in Canada to recuperate from a wounded leg.
For me, it was difficult to think of this teen as a soldier. During his stay in this country, he had developed a passion for ice cream and an appreciation of comedy. On a visit to his room, where he lay waiting for his wounded leg to heal, I once found him in peals of laughter, watching the antics of the Three Stooges on television. In spite of all this, Sharif U Din was more soldier than boy, and nothing would keep him from returning to the ranks of the mujahideen.
Back in those days, David Garrett, who was CEO at the CN Tower, kindly invited Sharif, wounded Afghan soldier Ahmed Zai, 18, and myself to the Tower dining room for lunch.
It was an interesting day that started with a tour of the Eaton Centre in downtown Toronto. Unfamiliar with the luxuries of the west, Ahmed Zai could not get over the number of running shoes available at one of the shops. Easy access to running shoes was only a dream to barefoot soldiers in the faraway mountains of Afghanistan.
At the Tower dining room, the waiter handed us menus. Both Afghans spoke enough English to understand, so I asked them for their orders, explaining we would start with appetizers or salad, move on the entrée, and then finish with dessert. Ahmed Zai ordered a salad and a steak, but passed up dessert. When Sharif U Din chose ice cream to start off the meal, I thought he surely must have misunderstood me. "No, I want chocolate ice cream for the first course, strawberry ice cream for the main course, and vanilla for dessert," he insisted with aplomb. Our waiter gracefully acquiesced without comment.
Both Afghans had been brought here by the Afghan Medical Relief Organization (AMRO), a mercy organization jointly founded by Kingston realtor Alan Henriksen and Mostopha, grandson of Afghan ex-king Zahir Shah. In those days, Mostapha was studying political science at Queen’s University.
Aware of my soft heart, both Henriksen and Mostapha had tried to warn me that getting emotionally involved with the Afghan teens would only lead to an emotional wrench when they inevitably had to return back home. "Remember, AMRO’s is only permitted by the government to bring them in, treat them, and send them back," said Mostapha.
Sharif, who had a decided playful streak, once offered me a surprise gift. "Close your eyes, and I’ll put it in your hand," he said. Naively, I did what he asked, only to find a garter snake in my palm. With screams that could be heard a mile yonder, I dropped the snake and took off running, high heels and all. Even with a lame leg, Sharif U Din almost caught up with me.
Sharif later laughingly told Henriksen that he couldn’t fathom how a fully-grown woman could be so terrified of one harmless little snake, and thereafter his greeting to me was always with a slithering movement of his hand.
The day of their return to Afghanistan arrived too soon. Both boys hinted that it might be better if I did not go to Pearson to see them off if it meant tears. Knowing it was the last I’d see them, I went along anyway.
Writing for the Toronto Sun at the time of their departure, I wrote in a column that Sharif U Din had left this country the way he had entered it, "as a 14-year-old man."
The years flew by, and I was never to hear from him again. Occasionally, a letter would reach us from Ahmed Zai. These were sad letters, as his wounds had never really healed, and the troops did not welcome his return. Just as Henriksen and I wrote that we would work to bring him back, he went missing.
No one had any news of Sharif U Din, and we concluded that the terrible war had claimed him.
Last weekend, Mostapha, now Afghanistan’s ambassador to Italy, called Henriksen, who in turn called me. In Afghanistan, Mostapha had a chance encounter with Sharif U Din. Not only had he survived, he is now the mayor of the Village of Girishk, not far north of Lashkargah.
The warrior-turned-mayor would be about 30 years of age now.
As fate would have it, vanilla ice cream is made and sold in nearby Kashkargah.
Canada Free Press founding editor Most recent by Judi McLeod is an award-winning journalist with 30 years experience in the print media. Her work has appeared on Newsmax.com, Drudge Report, Foxnews.com, Glenn Beck. Judi can be reached at: judi@canadafreepress.com
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