The imam’s low chanting echoed across the football field like an ancient barrier, enveloping Anna within its protective folds. The morning breeze swept over the empty pitch on the outskirts of Kabul, carrying a mingled scent of earth and medicinal herbs. Anna knelt on a thick, soft cushion, her knees spread apart, her cheek pressed tightly against the rough carpet. Her long robe had been lifted completely to her waist, leaving only a thin pair of undergarments to barely cover her. A few strands of her golden hair had slipped out from beneath her headscarf, and sweat had already dampened the roots. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably — the sensation of being half-exposed in public felt like countless eyes piercing through the curtains, pricking at her bare skin.

“Relax, child… This is Allah’s mercy,” her mother-in-law’s voice was gentle as she repeatedly wiped Anna’s back, the small of her waist, and her slightly swollen belly with a warm towel. Her sisters-in-law softly massaged her tense thighs and buttocks, trying to ease the stiffness in her muscles. In the copper basin, the herbal infusion was gently stirred; the pale yellow liquid gave off a fresh aroma of chamomile, mint, and fennel, at just the right temperature, releasing faint wisps of steam.

Anna’s tears would not stop flowing. She bit her lip, her voice trembling with a sob as she spoke in broken, accented Dari: “…It’s too humiliating… everyone is watching… I… I can’t bear it… The rumors were true… I thought they were just lies…”

The imam stood nearby, his gaze kind, the Quran in his hand slightly lowered. “Anna, those vulgar rumors about ‘daytime sheep’ are the most vicious slander from the West, an attack on our faith. We respond with purity. Prophet Ibrahim offered a sheep in sacrifice, symbolizing absolute submission and redemption. Today, by cleansing the pork fat pollution from your body and publicly swearing to abstain from pork, you too shall be reborn. Hold on, my child. You will understand.”

The enema tube — a smooth traditional instrument combining wood and soft tubing — was carefully coated with lubricant. Her mother-in-law personally held the funnel and slowly brought it toward Anna’s slightly raised hips. Anna’s body suddenly tensed in one last fierce resistance. She tried to close her legs, shaking her head as she cried, “No… please don’t… I beg you, Imam… Can’t we do this somewhere else… I’ve already converted…”

But the women held her down gently yet firmly. The tip of the tube pressed lightly against the sensitive entrance, its warm, lubricated touch gradually pushing inward. Anna let out a suppressed whimper, her whole body strung tight like a bow. “Ah… slowly… it feels so strange…”

The first stream of warm herbal infusion began to flow in slowly.

It felt like a warm current, carrying a gentle pressure, gradually filling her intestines. Anna’s eyes widened abruptly, her breathing turning rapid. At first, there was an intense sensation of foreign intrusion and fullness. Her instincts made her twist her waist, trying to escape this public violation. “It’s… too full… so hot… I… I can’t…” The shame reached its peak; her face flushed so deeply it seemed ready to bleed. In her mind swirled images of the football field, the faint silhouettes of people behind the curtains, the imam’s chanting, and the sight of herself — a German girl — in this moment.

Her mother-in-law gently rubbed her abdomen, helping the liquid spread evenly. “Endure it a little longer, child. This is a cleansing… flushing out all the remaining impurities from the West. From today onward, you will be a pure Muslim bride.”

More and more of the infusion continued to flow in. Anna’s belly began to swell slightly. The warm, distended sensation spread upward from her rectum, carrying the subtle stimulation of the herbs, like countless tiny waves of heat surging inside her. The initial stinging discomfort gradually gave way to a strange, deep warmth. She clenched her teeth, tears mixed with sweat dripping onto the carpet, yet her body unconsciously began to relax a little.

“…Mmm… it’s so full… but… it doesn’t hurt as much anymore…” she murmured, her voice carrying a trace of confusion for the first time.

The imam’s voice rose at the right moment: “Do you feel it? This is purification. Make your oath, my daughter.”

As the infusion continued to pour into her, Anna panted and, in a trembling but clear voice, recited word by word in front of the imam, her mother-in-law, and all the witnesses:

“I… Anna… from this day forward… formally become a Muslim… and for the rest of my life… I will never eat pork again… nor allow any pork fat… to remain inside my body… I… I swear…”

The moment her words fell, another surge of liquid rushed in. She let out a long, suppressed moan. The feeling of fullness reached its peak, yet strangely transformed into a profound sense of relief she had never experienced before. Her body began to tremble lightly, her cheeks flushed, and her breathing grew heavier. Though the shame remained, a strange feeling of release and acceptance quietly arose — much like the redemption Hamid had once brought her, turning chaos into peace.

Her mother-in-law smiled and continued massaging her abdomen. “Very good… hold on a little longer. It will feel much easier soon. You’re doing well, my daughter.”

Anna’s fingertips clutched the carpet tightly, her eyes half-closed. Her body swayed slightly within the enveloping warmth of the herbal infusion. As the morning light of the football field bathed her, for the first time amid her fierce resistance, she began to glimpse the edge of understanding.