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Mines
Still Killing, Maiming; Many Afghans Can't Go Home
RABAT, Afghanistan, 9 jan 02 (Dallas Morning News)--
By
Gregg Jones
Here
in this village of vineyards, orchards, and wheat fields, death
lurks in the fertile soil.
At
the intersection of two foot paths, once busy with farmers going
to their fields and women carrying water, an anti-personnel mine
capable of tearing off a human leg lies just below the surface.
Land mines and booby-trapped aerial bombs ring a mud house just
ahead. Mines and booby traps surround another house just across
the road.
After
two decades of war, the dangers that make Rabat unlivable are the
rule in Afghanistan. And before the hard work of rebuilding this
shattered country can begin, before more than 5 million Afghan refugees
and "internally displaced persons" can return to their homes, millions
of mines and unexploded bombs and shells must be found and destroyed,
experts say.
"Every
shovel you put to the ground, you have to wonder: Will a mine explode?"
said Hashmatullah Moslih, an aide to former President Burhanuddin
Rabbani. "It will take a long time for death to abandon Afghanistan.
The seeds of war are everywhere."
Even
before the U.S. military campaign began Oct. 7, Afghanistan was
the most heavily mined country in the world, with millions of unexploded
anti-personnel and anti-vehicle mines, U.N. officials and de-mining
groups say. Two U.S. soldiers suffered disabling injuries after
stepping on land mines in Afghanistan this month.
At
least five Afghans are killed or crippled every day by land mines,
and possibly twice that number since many victims live in such remote
areas that their deaths or injuries are never reported, experts
with the United Nations say. Eighty percent of the disabled people
in Afghanistan are land-mine victims, said Najmuddin, director of
the International Committee of the Red Cross Orthopedic Hospital
in Kabul, one of six ICRC centers in Afghanistan.
"A
mine explosion will not give you a chance," said Dr. Nasir Ahmad
of Halo Trust, a British de-mining group working in Afghanistan.
"You will lose your leg either below the knee or above the knee."
The
Karti Seh Surgical Hospital in Kabul is filled with land-mine casualties,
such as cousins Qaisullah, 12, and Hikmat, 14, who were tilling
the family plot the other day south of the city when one of them
hit a land mine with his hoe, and it exploded.
Mohammed
Yunus, 50, a shepherd who lives near the town of Ghorband, was walking
along a mountain trail in November, on the way to offer prayers
for a dead friend, when he stepped on a land mine. He lost his right
leg below the knee. One of Yunus' relatives died in a land-mine
accident last year, and another relative the year before that, he
said from his hospital bed.
Rabat
lies in the Shamali plain, the agricultural heartland of Afghanistan
and one of the country's most heavily mined areas. The road running
north from Kabul into the plain is lined with red stones and signs
that warn: "Beware of mines on the sides of the road."
The
plain was originally mined by the Soviet troops who occupied Afghanistan
from 1979 to 1989 and the mujahedeen fighters who fought the Soviets.
The Taliban and the Northern Alliance are the most recent protagonists
to seed the Shamali plain with mines. And the U.S. bombing campaign
against the Taliban has added to the problem, leaving Shamali and
other areas littered with unexploded "bomblets" from cluster bombs
and other ordnance, de-mining experts say.
Today,
the mines and unexploded ordnance are everywhere _ scattered through
vineyards and orchards, around garden walls, outside houses, along
footpaths.
Some
of the houses, like those in Rabat, have been booby-trapped with
anti-tank mines and aerial bombs.
De-mining
groups went to work in the Shamali plain Nov. 17, almost as soon
as the Taliban fled Kabul. These days, villages and roads are busy
with de-mining teams, as five international groups and nine Afghan
groups try to clear Afghanistan of the deadly mines.
Finding
and destroying the mines is painstaking and extremely dangerous
work. This month, Halo Trust de-miners have suffered two accidents.
One de-miner was killed and two were wounded in the first accident.
In the other, a de-miner dropped an unexploded 23 mm anti-aircraft
shell and it exploded, killing the man and one colleague and seriously
injuring another.
Wearing
protective visors and armor vests, the Halo Trust de-miners scour
the ground in Rabat with metal detectors, inch by inch. When an
object is located, a de-miner must carefully scrape and sweep the
dirt away to reveal the object.
Sometimes
it's only a tin can or a discarded battery. But sometimes it is
a deadly anti-personnel mine or unexploded shell.
A small
warning flag is planted beside the mine, until an explosives expert
can arrive to set a charge that can be detonated to blow up the
mine where it lies.
In
the first month after de-miners opened a stretch of road north of
Kabul that crossed the front lines between the Taliban and the Northern
Alliance, de-miners found 24 anti-personnel mines and eight pieces
of unexploded ordnance.
More
than 30 civilians and 50 animals have been injured in accidents
involving land mines along this stretch since mid-November, said
Ahmad, the Halo Trust official.
Three
days earlier, a 16-year-old boy was gathering firewood in a nearby
field when he stepped on a mine and blew off his leg, the de-miners
said.
As
dangerous as the work is for the de-miners, there is no shortage
of Afghans willing to take the risks for a salary of about $105
a month excellent by Afghan standards.
"People
have to feed their families," said Rahmadtullah, the Halo Trust
survey supervisor overseeing work in the Rabat area, who like many
Afghans uses only one name.
The
mines may be difficult to find at Rabat, but unexploded ordnance
isn't. A "bomblet" from an old Russian cluster bomb can be seen
lying along a footpath.
There
are 23 mm anti-aircraft shell casings and other debris clogging
an irrigation canal.
In
one small area along the path at the corner of a mud wall surrounding
a grape vineyard, Rahmadtullah's men have found and destroyed four
anti-personnel mines. A de-miner had just discovered an Iranian
YM1 anti-personnel mine at the spot one recent day one of 35 kinds
of land mines used in Afghanistan. The de-miner sat on the ground,
carefully sweeping the dirt away to fully expose the mine so a charge
could be set to blow it up.
The
last two decades of war have given Afghans vast experience in dealing
with the aftereffects of land mines, and that experience is being
put to good use at the International Committee of the Red Cross
Orthopedic Hospital in Kabul.
Land-mine
victims come to the hospital to undergo rehabilitation and get fitted
with artificial feet and legs, which are made in the center's workshop.
The
center also provides education and vocational training for land-mine
victims and other disabled Afghans.
"Many
people, when they came here to this center, they are depressed and
very sad," said Najmuddin, 37, a physiotherapist and hospital director.
"But it is also a happy place, because people come here in wheelchairs
or crawling and leave here walking on legs and feet."
Najmuddin
lost both legs to a land mine as a teenager 19 years ago when he
drove over a land mine in a dry riverbed in east Kabul. He stayed
home for five years, "doing nothing," before he was fitted with
a prosthesis at the hospital and eventually went to work there.
In
one building at the ICRC hospital, patients are fitted with prosthetic
legs and feet and learn how to walk again, striding uncertainly
back and forth on flat ground before practicing inclines and stairs.
Two
teenage land-mine victims were sitting on a bench at the end of
the room one recent day. One was already wearing a prosthetic leg
and the other was waiting to be fitted with his first. The teenager
who was awaiting his prosthesis quizzed his friend.
"Will
I be able to ride a bicycle again?" he asked. "I can ride a bicycle
and a motorcycle," the other teenager replied. "And in the future
I hope to learn to drive a car."
The
teenager asking the questions, 15-year-old Shir Ahmed, was fleeing
his Shamali plain village of Shakardara in 1998 when the Taliban
ordered the boy and his family to use a footpath rather than the
highway. Shir stepped on a land mine along the way.
"I
was afraid of the mines before that, and I tried to be careful,"
he said. "But still it happened."
His
village is too dangerous for habitation because of land mines, so
he and his family still live as "internally displaced persons" in
Kabul. But de-miners from Halo Trust are working to clear the village,
and Shir and his family are counting the days until they return
home next spring, he said.
"I
feel depressed when I see all the mined areas," said Rahmadtullah,
the Halo Trust de-mining supervisor. "I see the empty houses and
I wonder, who is this person? He was a teacher. He worked for the
government. After we clear this place, they will be able to come
home and continue their lives, use their land, grow their gardens
and use their house. When I see areas where people cannot come back
yet, I feel sad."
(c)
2001, The Dallas Morning News.
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