An Afghan interpreter who aided U.S. troops has been embraced by this Iowa town. So why won't the federal government give him a visa?

IOWA FALLS, Ia. — This friend to America who served alongside U.S. soldiers in his native Afghanistan and was shot for his troubles, who now lives in peace and harmony in the middle of rural Iowa, has had a year both remarkable and frustrating.

Remarkable because Zalmay Niazy, even more than when I first met him a year ago, has become a cherished member of the Iowa Falls community. His nickname is "Zee."

He's a former interpreter for U.S. troops in Afghanistan who came to the U.S. as a refugee, fleeing from retribution by the extremist Taliban and seeking political asylum.

You might remember him from his moment in the media spotlight: As a last resort in February 2017, he stood up and confronted Sen. Chuck Grassley at a local town hall meeting.

"If I did something wrong, just tell me,” Niazy said at the time both to Grassley and journalists about his stalled bid for asylum. “If not, please protect me and my family.”

A year later, Niazy, 30, remains in limbo. More on that in a minute.

But first I want to paint for you a vivid portrait of the idyllic side of his life.

Embraced by a community

I pulled up to the Three Days bar in the tiny town of Owasa just south of Iowa Falls. Niazy's signature purple pickup truck was parked out front. (The bar is called Three Days because, well, that’s when it’s open: Thursday, Friday and Saturday.)

Niazy and his cousin, Farid Ahmad, 29, were busy chiseling and hammering a 6-by-6 inch chunk of lumber. Thwack! Thwack!

The job at hand was extending the canopy over the bar’s patio.

Mike Ingebritson, a 6-foot-10 retired contractor, towered nearby. Niazy, who doesn't know exactly when he might see his own parents in person again, calls him "Papa."

“There’s American soldiers who came home because of these guys,” said Ingebritson, who has been a staunch advocate for the cousins.

Zalmay seems thoroughly ingrained here. His Zee Handyman Services business is thriving. He even sports a pair of cowboy boots.

“They say small town, small problems,” Ahmad said as we sat down for a Chinese dinner at Chuong Garden. Before we leave, the owner consults with Niazy about a door handle as part of an upcoming remodel job at the restaurant.

This former translator on the other side of the globe now is transforming the wooden and steel bones of this town, room by room.

That includes his own home. Niazy bought a foreclosure for $10,000. The beautiful brick house was built in 1916, a neglected wreck with pools of water and insulation piled on the hardwood floors.

He made it cozy with insulated interior walls and moved in last May. He even built a garage next door.

Not that he spends a lot of time here. If Niazy isn't too tired when he gets home, he might watch an episode of “Two and a Half Men."

"The only reason I work a lot is (because) when I sit by myself," he said, "all I do is think about my parents and family.”

Four-wheelers and open mic night

Niazy lives with his cousin, and they make something of an odd couple. Zee is more thoughtful, quiet and a devout Muslim. He's a homebody.

The whiteboard calendar in his office has the word “praying” to indicate his weekly pilgrimage to the mosque in nearby Cedar Falls.

He did attend a hoedown in nearby Hampton, at Ingebritson's request. It's an open mic night for old country musicians and singers.

"I was the only one without any trumpet or guitar," Niazy deadpanned.

Ahmad, meanwhile, is the "naughty" cousin, Niazy said with a laugh, who tends to be more gregarious and loves to hunt and fish.

Ahmad also explained how he and his friends took a car hood, flipped it upside down and welded seats to the surface so he could be pulled along the icy surface of the frozen Iowa River by four-wheelers — a favorite local pastime.

Yet the cousins do share a common passion for vicious competition in the game of bags, or cornhole.

“I told him he should be a plumber,” Ahmad said of his cousin. “You make great money.”

But Niazy has other plans. He already had explored a teller and customer service job at a local bank.

He has designs on attending college to pursue a master's degree and land a more lucrative job in finance.

The long wait

But that depends on his visa status, that nagging limbo.

Niazy and his attorney from Des Moines, Keith Herting, drove to Omaha last year for an interview with U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

It turned out to be a marathon seven-hour interrogation in which Niazy had to answer for every piece of paperwork in his life. He was told that he would hear a response within a couple weeks.

Since then, nothing.

It was the longest interview that any client of Herting's has endured. And this has been the longest limbo.

It could be much worse.

Back home, the violence in Afghanistan is "really bad," Niazy said.

"Every day there is a new wave of killing. We lost a lot of our relatives in suicide bomb bursts.”

A safe and comfortable home. A growing business. Friendly neighbors.

If only Niazy's asylum limbo would end, soaking up the warm spring sunshine in Owasa as the hammers swing would feel that much more like paradise.

Kyle Munson can be reached at 515-284-8124 or kmunson@dmreg.com. See more of his columns and video at DesMoinesRegister.com/KyleMunson. Connect with him on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram (@KyleMunson) and on Snapchat (@kylemunsoniowa).