An Afghan woman lies on a street in Kandahar, sobbing while adjusting her burqa to cover her… An Afghan woman lies on a street in Kandahar, sobbing while adjusting her burqa to cover her face. Her husband stands above her, his hand raised to hit her again. Policemen and politicians stand behind the husband, encouraging him to punish his wife for showing her ankles. Other Afghan women watch from the windows, hiding behind curtains.

Suddenly, a white horse gallops onto the street, and the Afghan woman on the ground jumps up and starts belting out the lyrics to “I Need a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler. The other women bust out of the houses, tear off their burqas to reveal sequin midriff shirts and leather pants and start singing backup and playing guitars. The white horse gallops closer, and all the men fall to the ground. They look up as the horse approaches, and the blinding white light dims to reveal the rider on top of the horse.

The rider tips his cowboy hat to the men, offers a low whistle and a wink to the women and drops a large box on the ground before galloping off into the sunset, towards Iraq. “I would like to stay longer,” he says, “but I’ve got a world to save.”

The men and women approach the box slowly with caution, as one always does in Afghanistan. A brave woman moves forward and opens it. Everyone gasps.

It’s a ballot box, and inside the ballot box there is a “How to Run for Political Office” guide for the women and a “Democracy for Dummies” handbook for the men.

“We’re saved!” shout the women.

“We’re sorry for treating you like inferior human beings,” say the men, flipping to the Women’s Rights section of their handbook. “Can you ever forgive us?”

“Only if you don’t try to beat us or kill us or throw us in jail when we demand voting rights, education, jobs and rights within a marriage.”

The men look at each other and huddle. “Are they serious?” they whisper.

One man snickers in the background, flipping to the section in the handbook with a fact sheet about women in American democracy. “Women only make up 13 percent of the politicians in the United States House and Senate!” he whispers. “And women only make 75 cents for every dollar a man makes! And there are still hardly any women in business leadership positions.”

“I hear that men there don’t need burqas to control women’s sexuality!” one man states, “I hear that they limit their access to birth control and reproductive rights, and that women who have sex a lot are called bad names.”

“See, maybe democracy isn’t so bad! After all, women started voting in the ’20s and had that big women’s rights movement in the 60s, but they still aren’t equal.”

“Maybe it’s not bad at all,” whispers another man, pulling out pictures of Britney Spears and Halle Berry that were folded into the handbook.

The men turn back to the women. “Um … sure,” the men respond, snickering, “You can have your rights.”

The women are ecstatic, and run through the streets dancing and singing. They decide to run a woman for the October 2004 elections, and are shocked when she isn’t taken seriously. They become even more shocked when they travel to rural areas and realize that the women there are still living in conditions similar to those when the Taliban ruled. On the day of the election, they are horrified when, despite 40 percent of all registered voters being female, women are threatened as they try to vote. They turn to their handbook for advice.

“Your fight for equality is not going to be easy, nor is it going to come overnight. Elections won’t guarantee it; democracy won’t guarantee it. There is no formula for equality that we can give you. You must continue to endure and fight, and find out what works in your country. You must never give up. In the end, if you continue to fight, you will lead your country to peace, prosperity and equality.”

Jen Stephan wrote the “How to Run for Political Office” guide and sings Bonnie Tyler songs in her spare time. She also rides horses — white ones. E-mail her at [email protected].