The Heartbreaking Truth of Bacha Bazi in Afghanistan: A Missed Opportunity

Every morning during a work stint in Afghanistan about eight years ago, I would see a young boy named Abdul at the bakery window, perhaps 14 years old. His face was full of youth and curiosity. He'd peer out, watching the world with an innocent curiosity and shy smile. One morning, Abdul was gone. Days later, his uncle, his body slumped forward in defeat, told me a powerful government official in their neighborhood had taken him away. I knew, he knew, we all knew what that meant.