Living in London, my elder brother – someone I have always looked up to – makes good use of his relative proximity to our ancestral home in Afghanistan. He travels back and forth so often that, from my base in Melbourne, I sometimes joke he has visited our village more times in the past few years than I have visited any other Australian city.
His most recent trip, however, did not go as planned. Flight disruptions linked to escalating tensions in the Middle East left him stranded in Istanbul for several days. Eventually he gave up and flew back to London, missing both the anniversary of our mother’s death in Kabul and the Eid celebrations many of the family members had hoped to mark together at the end of Ramadan.
