Sher Khan fell to apologising. ‘Khan Baba. I have five daughters myself. If I could have waited I would have, but my sons… They will be released from jail tomorrow and I have been trying to find the most respectful way of making my request. I want them to be with me. I am an old man and my life is almost done. I wish to ask, to request most humbly, that my sons take my place on the Jirga.’

A murmur ran through the men. Akbar Khan held up his hand and silence fell once again. ‘The law of this country saves a man after he has done wrong,’ he said. ‘Our customs stop him from doing that wrong. Are our customs as good as their laws? Some would say not, we would say yes. But your boys have tasted of their laws, and now they want to live by ours. I do not know if they will be able to administer justice when they carry the desire for vengeance, but…this is how our life is. It is up and down. As for taking your place in the Jirga, you are not the first to ask this, and you will not be the last… Come enjoy the wedding. Today, eat and spend time with your wife and daughters. You and I will speak more about this tomorrow night, inshallah.’

Hearing these words, Sher Khan began calling down blessings upon Akbar Khan and his family. He moved forward to embrace him but Bazigh Khan stepped in, quickly ushering him and the other men out of the room. When he returned he found Akbar Khan standing by the window, watching the guests, his face pensive.

‘There is that one final matter of business, Lala,’ he said.

Akbar Khan turned to face his brother. ‘The chief of police wants me to help him with something?’ he said. ‘It was so much easier when they were the enemy.’ He shook his head slowly at the changing times and blurring boundaries. ‘This matter, what is it?’ he asked.

Bazigh Khan relayed the news of the nightclub shooting to his brother, who listened silently, his face dark, his brow furled. ‘If the young are not initiated into the tribe, what else will they do but burn the village down?’ Akbar Khan said. ‘Still, we do not need another race war. Our people do not know fear. They will destroy everything that we have spent years building. Tell him, the policeman, to come to the house tomorrow… Let us listen to what he has to say, and hope he listens to us before our boys find a way to get heard.’ Bazigh Khan nodded at his brother’s wisdom, understanding the implied and the unsaid.