The civilians of Marjah
Ahead of a major NATO offensive due to begin soon (some are guessing tomorrow), Taliban fighters in the town of Marjah are helping local families leave the area, even going as far as lending local farmers their vehicles for transport. “These are our people; they’re not the enemy and they shouldn’t get hurt,” said one fighter as he helped a small boy into a truck laden with the possessions of several fleeing families.
Oh, wait. Sorry, that’s precisely the opposite of what’s going on.
Villager Mohammad Hakim gambled that he could wait until the last minute because he was worried about abandoning his cotton fields.
He finally tried to move his wife, nine sons, four daughters and grandchildren out of Marjah earlier Tuesday but said militants told him to return home because they had mined the surrounding roads.
And here’s another example of respect for civilian lives and livelihoods.
With his two-year-old son clasped to his chest, Haji Mohammed Manan said he had walked eight hours through flooded opium fields with his wife and seven children to avoid the danger on the roads.
“During the day and during the night, the Taliban are laying landmines everywhere,” Manan said. “We had no choice. We had to walk through the water.”
This is going to be ugly.
I’m going to Afghanistan
I tiptoed around it for weeks, waiting until I had my ticket and visa in hand to make an announcement on Twitter, but here it is at long last. I’m due to arrive in Kabul next Thursday morning and will spend several months working for a research organization.
Needless to say, I’ll be back blogging regularly here and this blog will undergo some changes as I make an effort to take it more seriously.
I went to London for the Afghanistan conference
My press accreditation for the intergovernmental event on Jan. 28 was revoked for reasons unknown, but I attended everything else. Posts from the conference here, and more forthcoming.
Things I did this week
- Quit my job.
- Shot an AK-47.
- Boxed up my belongings and pledged my furniture to the local refugee resettlement agency.
- Sent an email making it clear I really, really don’t want to live in the ‘Archipelago of Fear.’
- Drank the best chocolate martini ever made.
