"Every day before setting off for work, I give my three children a big hug. I don't know if I'll ever come back," says Abdul Ghafoor Afghanyar, a specialist in improvised explosive devices (IEDs) who works for the Afghan police in Helmand province.
He has one of the toughest jobs in the new Afghanistan. Over the past five years he has disarmed more than 6000 roadside bombs and at least six car bombs, all with his bare hands.
"A radio set, a pressure cooker, even a Pepsi can be converted into a deadly weapon, which can destroy tanks and armoured vehicles," said Afghanyar, who has just turned 24. "And such destruction could be assembled for as little as 13 ($26)."
According to the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan, IEDs are one of the chief reasons for civilian casualties in the country, which are set to hit 10,000 this year - the highest in any year since 2008 when records began. A total of 3188 civilians were killed and 6429 injured in the first 11 months of this year - an increase of 19 per cent on the same period a year before.
Afghanyar is based in Gereshk, about 50km from the provincial capital, Lashkar Gah. The district lies on the 1000km Highway No 1, which connects three of Afghanistan's largest cities - Kabul, Kandahar and Herat. The strategic importance of this road has made it a favourite Taliban hunting ground.
About half of the stretch, between Kandahar in the south and Herat in the west, is considered among the most treacherous roads in Afghanistan. It is where Afghanyar spends most of his day.
"The Taliban are not very far from the road," he says, pointing to the mangled remains of what would once have been a police car. "Metal and ball bearings were used in this home-made bomb. The bomb got to the car before I could get to the bomb. I lost four of my friends in this attack."
The paved road soon turns into dirt and gravel. "Like my friends, this road, too, is a victim of IEDs," Afghanyar says, trying to manoeuvre along the pockmarked road.
He is called to inspect a suspicious-looking object stuck beneath a small bridge running parallel to Highway No 1. A police party guards the bridge from a distance, stopping and asking motorists to keep as far as possible from the metal track running over a dry creek. The bridge is often used by police convoys to access villages along the highway.
Afghanyar steps out of the police vehicle and is given a quick briefing by Hekmatullah Haqmal, the police chief of Gereshk.
He zips into a bomb suit and hands the chief a folded piece of paper before crossing the police cordon. "This is a letter from Afghanyar to his wife and children," Haqmal says. "This basically expresses his last wish and what he expects his family to do if, God forbid, the IED turns out to be better than him. I have held this letter in my hands several times and I hope I will never have to open and read it out to his family."
Afghanyar is soon under the bridge. "It's ammonium nitrate," he shouts. The IED is made up of a common fertiliser and designed to trigger under pressure. It was aimed at passing police vehicles.
Afghanyar emerges from under the bridge in about 20 minutes, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead with one hand and holding a black plastic bag in the other. "It's been tamed," he says, handing over the bag with the neutralised bomb to the police chief. "So, how many down?" Haqmal asks. "I have lost count," Afghanyar replies, taking back the letter and carefully depositing it in his shirt pocket.
- Independent
- AP
