“Battle Displaced People” (or BDPs) is a term used to describe individuals who are forced to flee their homes because of fighting. There are a specific subsection of Internally Displaced People (IDPs). There are thousands of BDPs in Afghanistan and the numbers are growing.
Today, we visited a refugee camp on the outskirts of Herat, on the road that heads out to Iran. It is a desolate stretch of road – beautiful in a harsh, dusty, mountainous way. But clearly a tough environment to live amidst.
The camp that we visited was built twenty years ago and has accommodated Afghans as they have fled various different conflicts. The camp is a permanent living-place with small, dark houses made from mud and straw. There are a handful of water pumps where the people can get water. But there is no electricity and no arable land.
We spoke with one family that has lived there for the past 2 years. They fled their village after their uncle was shot in the stomach and killed. He was attempting to help a group of children hide in a mosque during an intense battle between ISAF and the Taliban. After the uncle died, the family immediately left the area. The head of the house told us: “We only grabbed the most important belongings. Many of our things are still up in the village. But we cannot return now. We will die if we visit our home and land again.”
This family is desperate to return to their house in the village. The wife summed up the sense of desperation and the loneliness. She explained: “We have nothing here. Up in our village, we had fruit trees. My husband had a job on the land and he could provide for us. We had relatives and support. I could chat and discuss problems with people. Here, we have nothing. I have all these children and I can’t feed them. It makes me desperate. I make lunch, but then there is nothing left over for dinner. We desperately need help. We desperately need the fighting to end.”
Today, we visited a refugee camp on the outskirts of Herat, on the road that heads out to Iran. It is a desolate stretch of road – beautiful in a harsh, dusty, mountainous way. But clearly a tough environment to live amidst.
The camp that we visited was built twenty years ago and has accommodated Afghans as they have fled various different conflicts. The camp is a permanent living-place with small, dark houses made from mud and straw. There are a handful of water pumps where the people can get water. But there is no electricity and no arable land.
We spoke with one family that has lived there for the past 2 years. They fled their village after their uncle was shot in the stomach and killed. He was attempting to help a group of children hide in a mosque during an intense battle between ISAF and the Taliban. After the uncle died, the family immediately left the area. The head of the house told us: “We only grabbed the most important belongings. Many of our things are still up in the village. But we cannot return now. We will die if we visit our home and land again.”
This family is desperate to return to their house in the village. The wife summed up the sense of desperation and the loneliness. She explained: “We have nothing here. Up in our village, we had fruit trees. My husband had a job on the land and he could provide for us. We had relatives and support. I could chat and discuss problems with people. Here, we have nothing. I have all these children and I can’t feed them. It makes me desperate. I make lunch, but then there is nothing left over for dinner. We desperately need help. We desperately need the fighting to end.”
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