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Journal of an American follower of Christ living among the Afghans... IDP increase due to fighting The summer of 2008 has seen an increase of internally displaced people, particularly in Wardak Province where there is fighting between the locals and nomads over land rights. Many homes have been burned and scores killed. Thousands have fled, often to the homes of relatives who do not have the resources to care for extra people. War ruins everything, even Islam, and its hallmarks of Muslim brotherhood and hospitality. |
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Pray for the People of Afghanistan - Journal of an American follower of Christ living among the Afghans... Hunger Poor 2008 harvests due to low rainfall, coupled with rising food costs because of world food shortages have taken their toll on Afghans struggling to feed their families. Hunger affects all of society, from a decrease in school attendance, and local production to an increase in health risks, crime, and tensions between the haves and have-nots. Where’s the problem: supply and demand, or is it greed vs. compassion? How can I help? |
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Pray for the People of Afghanistan - Journal of an American follower of Christ living among the Afghans... “GWB killed my sister…..” If you can’t get a conversation going, a taxi ride can be painful and long. This fellow was unusually quiet. No twenty questions, and no answers either. Had he guessed my nationality, and didn’t want to talk to an American? I tried everything. The weather -- nothing. Kabul traffic -- nothing. My war question: “Where were you during the war?” -- nothing. A barely audible sentence finally broke the silence. “George Bush (meaning the US military) killed my sister and her two children.” Whoa! Silence. Where do I go from here? I tried sympathy; an apology. More silence. I remember thinking how out of place the typical comment would be: “Well, that’s one of the realities of war.” Fortunately I didn’t know the Dari word for ‘realities’. Where is that comment appropriate, anyway? I got out of the cab reciting the customary “God be with you.” and his short sentence pounding in my head. I could only grieve for him and his family, and bemoan the fact of being American. Anger. It’s too hard. It’s all up hill. Why am I here? |
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