The Breadwinner

The horror and violence of the Taliban regime are foregrounded in the takeover of Mazar. Homa watches her family brutally die. Outside her home, there are “bodies all over the street […] the wild dogs had started eating some of the bodies” (152). Her story intentionally emphasizes the brutality of life under the regime: “I even saw a dog carrying a person’s arm in its mouth!” (152). Like many women in her context, Homa is left in an impossible situation: Her father, mother, and brother are killed in the Taliban takeover, yet the regime’s rules don’t allow her to operate independently or work to provide for her basic needs.

Ellis resists stereotyping or painting the people of Afghanistan as a monolith; instead, she shows instances of both cruelty and kindness under the regime. A group of kind men shield the shocked Shauzia and Parvana from the horror and help them out of the stadium after they stumble upon the hand-chopping ceremony: “‘Keep your heads down, boys,’ a kind voice above Parvana said. […] The cigarettes and gum had fallen off their trays, but the men around them gathered up the spilled items and returned them to the girls” (121). Meanwhile, a young Talib “was holding up a rope strung with four severed hands, like beads on a necklace. He was laughing and showing off his booty to the crowd” (122). The anecdote contrasts his cruelty with the kindness and protective instincts of the men in the crowd.

Parvana’s growing courage is again foregrounded as she continues to channel the inspiring symbol of Malali: “‘I’m Malali, leading the troops through enemy territory,’ she murmured to herself” (148). Parvana helps Homa—who has no burqa—through the streets, knowing that the risks could be imprisonment, violent beating, or death:

If the Taliban caught them out after curfew and with the woman without a burqa or head covering at all […] Parvana remembered the scene in the stadium. She didn’t want to know what the Taliban would do to her and her companion (148).

This is especially significant given that Parvana does not know Homa; she risks her life to help a stranger in need.

Parvana’s maturity is evident in her repaired relationship with Nooria. Previously, the sisters expressed their frustration at life’s disappointments through arguing with each other. After Parvana takes on the breadwinner role in the family, she reflects that “arguing with Nooria simply didn’t make sense anymore” (118). Their reconciliation is further symbolized in the wedding gift Parvana carefully saved up for: a pen for Nooria to use in her future studies.

The powerlessness of women within their families, where they are often treated as property rather than as human beings with autonomy and rights, is foregrounded in the prospect of Shauzia’s marriage. Her grandfather views her marriage as a financial transaction, and her wishes are not considered: “Since [Shauzia] is so young, [she’ll] fetch a good bride-price, and they will have lots of money to live on” (158). Shauzia’s mother is a victim of the same system and, thus, powerless to intervene or protect her. Referring to her mother, Shauzia reminds Parvana, “What could she do? She has to live with them. She has nowhere else to go” (158). These impossible situations emphasize the difficulty of life for women under Taliban rule. Mrs. Weera feels that Shauzia should not flee Afghanistan and leave her mother: “Shauzia has family here. Do you mean that she should just leave her family?” (161). However, Parvana advocates for Shauzia’s “right to seek out a better life” (161). Ellis does not condemn or condone Shauzia’s wish to flee her family in Afghanistan or clarify what her future will hold. Instead, she foregrounds Shauzia’s situation to illustrate the impossibility of trying to live without rights or autonomy.

Parvana’s flowers, which she plants at her place in the market to bid farewell to her mysterious friend in the window, are a symbol of hope. The old man celebrates the fact that she creates something beautiful “in our gray marketplace” (162). He reassures her that the flowers “may look scraggly and dying now […] but the roots are good. When the time is right, these roots will support plants that are healthy and strong” (163). The flowers inject signs of beauty and hope into a place that is scarred and ugly. Parvana remembers that her parents told her that Kabul was once “a city of lights, progress, and excitement” (147). Her flowers represent the Afghan peoples’ faith that their country’s strong, deep roots will hold, and one day beauty and progress will be restored.

Ellis’s deliberate choice to leave the end of the story ambiguous mirrors the dislocation and stress of Afghanistan at that time; the future was uncertain, and, like Parvana and her father, many people didn’t know whether they would find their loved ones again. Homa’s story reveals how quickly the political situation changed, as the Taliban extended their reach to Mazar just after Nooria left with her family in hopes of being able to study there when she married. Ellis ends the story as Parvana and her father climb into the truck to go to the refugee camp outside Mazar in search of their family. Whether Parvana and her father find Parvana’s mother, Nooria, Maryam, and Ali is not revealed. Similarly, the reader does not learn whether Shauzia manages to leave Afghanistan or what happens to Homa or Mrs. Weera as they undertake the dangerous journey to Pakistan. The novel’s unresolved ending reflects the uncertainty of life under the Taliban regime while conveying the characters’ continued efforts to retain a sense of hope, similar to the old man at the market’s faith that the flowers’ strong roots will allow them to survive against the odds.