Ravaged Land, Ravaged People

WHEN war first erupted in the Persian Gulf in 1991, Denni Fahmi Adam was only 17 years old and studying for his Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia (SPM) exam.
Now yet another war is being waged in the region, this time mounted by the United States and Britain against Iraq. And for Fahmi, the war, any war for that matter, brings back haunting memories.
"No words can adequately describe the suffering and hardship faced by civilians when conflict breaks out," says Fahmi, who has, in the intervening 12 years, been to a war zone and back. "I feel this overwhelming sense of relief that I was born and live in a peaceful country, Malaysia."
This 28-year-old, a volunteer with the Global Peace Mission, a coalition of Malaysian non-governmental organisations (NGOs) brought together to help civilians affected by the acts of terrorism, visited Afghan refugee camps at the height of the battle against the Taliban in late 2001 with two other volunteers, Khairil Annuar Khalid and Kamal Ali.
The trio had been tasked with looking into the basic logistical needs of Afghan orphans, single mothers and the physically impaired, who had been displaced as a result of protracted war and the oppressive Taliban regime.
They also brought monetary donations from the people of Malaysia during their visit, which coincided with the opening of the Global Peace Mission's office in Peshawar, Pakistan.
While there, the trio visited the Afghan refugee camp at Shamshatoo near the Pakistan-Afghanistan border 20km from Peshawar, in Pakistan's arid North West Frontier Province. A barren, dry and dusty site, the camp is home to an estimated 50,000 refugees who fled Afghanistan seeking refuge, food, hope and a rare semblance of peace.
"Sanitary conditions were basic and access to water a problem," explains Fahmi. "Tents distributed by the United Nations High Commission for Refugees, one per family, to newly arrived refugees provided no protection against the bitter cold at night.
"Half a day there and I was already coughing up dust," he added.
The Afghan government estimates that there are still some four million Afghans, comprising both refugees and migrant workers, living outside their homeland - mostly in Pakistan and Iran. In 2001, more than 1.8 million Afghans returned home from Iran, Pakistan and the Central Asian Republics, with many more expected to return this year.
During his stay, what affected Fahmi most was the plight of the children, innocent victims of circumstance and conflict.
"They should have been in school instead of begging for food in the streets. It was a pitiful sight. The children... you feel it in here," he says, gesturing to his heart, "when you realise what they are going through."
Usually considered an everyday treat, lollipops distributed to the children were not typically slowly savoured, but were instead rapidly chewed and swallowed because the children were so hungry.
Some of them had also been put to work making Afghan rugs and carpets.
"Most of them were orphans, their parents having died in the war," explains Fahmi. "And the carpets are bought from them for the equivalent of a few ringgit but are then sold on for thousands more."
He recalls an incident when his team had to face a 10-year-old boy who had lost his coupon, which was used in exchange for goods distributed by the Global Peace Mission.
"He kept begging us to give him the rations but we couldn't, not without the coupon. At the end of the day, we pooled together enough money to last him a month," Fahmi says.
The Global Peace Mission's fact-finding pursuit resulted in the delivery of short and long-term emergency relief and humanitarian aid. Programmes concentrated on health, education and human resource training, with the main humanitarian efforts being directed towards fleeing Afghans inside and along the North West Frontier portion of the Pakistan/Afghanistan border.
"When we got there, fighting was raging in Jalalabad and Mazar-I-Sharif.
Some refugees had walked up to 1,700km to reach the border camps. When Pakistan decided to close its borders to the refugees, some had little option but to try and get into the country via rugged mountain passes. We managed to get supplies to these refugees through our contacts there.
"We successfully distributed supplies and medical aid to some 70,000 refugees in Peshawar. As a follow-up, our medical team later opened up hospitals and clinics to help treat them."
When the Malaysian team first set foot in the country, the Afghans thought they were the enemy.
"From afar, they mistook the Malaysian flag for the Stars and Stripes of the US.
"They didn't like me initially either, because I smoked an American brand of cigarettes - Marlboro. They also mistook me for a Japanese until I greeted them with a salaam. Only then did they realise I was Muslim."
Fahmi recalls being mobbed by single mothers during the distribution of goods, including flour, sugar and blankets, which were to last families for a month.
"When the supply lorry drove into the camp, I heard a stampede behind me. I turned round and was mobbed by women running after the supply lorry. I was pummelled and punched about the face and stomach. I was lucky when those on the lorry hauled me up and out of the fray."
Fahmi says he felt humbled at the treatment the trio received when the Afghans found out who they were.
"They went out of their way to make us feel welcome, literally begging and borrowing to feed us. They barely had enough to feed and clothe themselves, yet here they were doing everything possible in an attempt to give us a taste of Afghan hospitality."
As a result of his experiences, Fahmi now thinks twice before even tearing the crust off a piece of bread before eating it.
"When we eat bread, we remove the crust. People there have hardly anything to eat. It has all made me realise just how lucky we are," he says. Fahmi and his two colleagues took RM170,000 with them that members of the Malaysian public had donated to buy tents, food and clothing for the refugees.
Last June, the Mission also organised a major fund-raising initiative called Majlis Malam Sentuhan Hati. Some RM250,000 was raised which will go towards providing 37 water pumps, 40 tents, a year's sponsorship of 20 orphans, 15 sanitation units, the cost of building a school, a teacher's salary for one year, sponsorship of two medical students and a twice-weekly feeding programme for a year.
"We definitely have to do our homework first before we go in. We have to find out what the refugees need most and prioritise accordingly. Only then can we be sure of sending them the things they require and through the proper channels," says Fahmi, who works in an advertising firm.
He also concluded that it would be wiser to bring cash donations rather than goods into the camps.
"It is far cheaper to obtain the supplies there rather than ship them in from Malaysia. In Pakistan, flour costs the equivalent of 60 sen per kilo.
If we were to ship it from here, we would also have to bear the additional transportation charges."
Fahmi considers his 11-day stay in Pakistan one of the hardest things he has ever done. Mindful of the potential dangers, he had left his belongings with his closest friends and family prior to his departure.
"I left my car with my employer and my apartment keys with a friend. I wasn't sure if I would be coming back."
He even let his grandmother believe that he was going into Afghanistan with 30 others.
"I didn't want her to worry... she saw me off at the airport and only then did she realise that only two others were accompanying me.
"When one of the Abim (Angkata Belia Islam Malaysia) leaders told her that I was going there for a good cause, she asked why he wasn't accompanying us."
As a foreigner, Fahmi also encountered some amusing, if not embarrassing moments, when faced by some of the different aspects of Afghan culture. An incident when performing Friday prayers stands out.
"After the imam recited the Fatihah, I ended the surah saying `Amin', as loudly as I could, which is the normal practice here in Malaysia. The Afghans, in contrast, do not end each surah in such a fashion, so my typical response was met with total silence. Needless to say it was a little discomfiting."
Fahmi also began wearing the shalwar-kamiz, the traditional Afghan costume of long-sleeved shirt and wide pants, which enabled him to move around more freely.
"It cost RM10 for the six metres of cloth needed to make the outfit and I paid another RM15 to have it tailored," he says.
Despite the harrowing experience, Fahmi doesn't think the trip to the Afghan refugee camps will be his last. With the knowledge he gained, he will be invaluable as a member of other Global Peace Mission trips, but he will be most happy if his services are not needed - that there is peace instead of conflict.
But with the war now raging in Iraq, and the human tragedy that is unfolding, sadly it looks like it won't be too long before his next trip.