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| Maslakh Housing, NOT Ruins |
Before the Taliban era, this was the site of perhaps the busiest abattoir in Afghanistan – but in the last year of the Taliban, about 11 years ago it became famous for something else. Around it grew the largest refugee camp in the world with reportedly 350,000 people living in horrible conditions. Refugees from drought, ethnic violence and civil war the people came from all over the west and north to the relative safety of Herat.
Today there are only 30,000 people in the camp. As you look to the right of the road (travelling towards Iran) you see in the distance a magnificent, rugged, mountain range reaching into the clouds and from the base of these mountains to the road the desert is littered with the remains of adobe constructions that housed and protected a multitude of frightened people.
I couldn’t help staring in awe at the mountain ranges and wondering about the words of Psalm 121; “I look to the [mountains] where does my help come from?” and contrasting those words, which roll so easily off the tongue, with the life reality of the refugees that slept beneath them.
The children have nowhere to play in this desert, the teenagers and young adults have no jobs to hope for. The school is an old clinic with 7 rooms, (each about 15m2). There is an enrolment of 3,000 lucky children, (there’s no room for the other 3,000) and an average class size of 90; the boys in the morning and the girls in the afternoon.
Many of the children from 8 years old up work on the streets in the city, or make adobe bricks, to help their families survive. Most of the men and teenage boys go into the city looking for day work. But the parents would give up the extra income for school.
In the near future we hope to do something to help the children. Simplistically: our goal is to implement a project that will bring community based schooling to the kids that are currently missing out. We plan to train local school graduates, boys and girls, and engage existing teachers in the community and equip them to run “home” based schools. Parallel to this we are going to look to deliver literacy classes for adults.
When you look at the extent of the camp, and consider the number of people, this sounds like a drop in the ocean – but, in a desert, at least it’s water!
Today there are only 30,000 people in the camp. As you look to the right of the road (travelling towards Iran) you see in the distance a magnificent, rugged, mountain range reaching into the clouds and from the base of these mountains to the road the desert is littered with the remains of adobe constructions that housed and protected a multitude of frightened people.
I couldn’t help staring in awe at the mountain ranges and wondering about the words of Psalm 121; “I look to the [mountains] where does my help come from?” and contrasting those words, which roll so easily off the tongue, with the life reality of the refugees that slept beneath them.
The children have nowhere to play in this desert, the teenagers and young adults have no jobs to hope for. The school is an old clinic with 7 rooms, (each about 15m2). There is an enrolment of 3,000 lucky children, (there’s no room for the other 3,000) and an average class size of 90; the boys in the morning and the girls in the afternoon.
Many of the children from 8 years old up work on the streets in the city, or make adobe bricks, to help their families survive. Most of the men and teenage boys go into the city looking for day work. But the parents would give up the extra income for school.
In the near future we hope to do something to help the children. Simplistically: our goal is to implement a project that will bring community based schooling to the kids that are currently missing out. We plan to train local school graduates, boys and girls, and engage existing teachers in the community and equip them to run “home” based schools. Parallel to this we are going to look to deliver literacy classes for adults.
When you look at the extent of the camp, and consider the number of people, this sounds like a drop in the ocean – but, in a desert, at least it’s water!
