Women join demining charge in south Sudan
MILE
38, Sudan -
Seven months pregnant Opayi Mary stands half a metre away from a
mine made expressly to blow anything over 3 kg to pieces. For
her, it’s just part of a day’s work.
Mary
leads an all-female team of deminers working for Norwegian
People’s Aid (NPA) in one of south Sudan’s most dangerous
areas: the civil war battlefield Mile 38.
The
location, 38 miles (61 km) from the southern capital Juba, was
on the frontline in a decades-long conflict between mainly
Christian and animist southern rebels and the Islamist
government in Khartoum.
The
war, fought over ideology and ethnicity and fuelled by oil,
killed 2 million people and displaced 4 million before a peace
deal was signed in 2005.
Now,
south Sudan’s semi-autonomous government, which will hold a
referendum on secession in 2011, is trying to rebuild a region
where even the most basic infrastructure is lacking.
Clearing
the thousands of mines is an important part of efforts to
rebuild the devastated region, where mined roads have made
travel and transport of goods difficult.
‘I
was so afraid of my first one,’ Mary admits. Two years later
she is now in charge of her group’s safety and for exploding
the mines taken from this empty scrubland.
‘Now
I have taken more than 20. I can even hold them with my hand,’
Mary grins. She is short and seems all burgeoning bump but walks
fast between cordoned off areas.
Under
Mary’s watch, Joanne Jenty slides a prong into a marked-out
area in front of her that she has already wetted. In the hot
silence of the bush and on her hands and knees, she is feeling
for the side of a mine that she will then delicately unearth.
People
used to live along this major trade route but have been slow to
return since the war ended, deterred by a lack of
infrastructure, worries of a return to fighting and the lines of
hidden explosives buried just inches under the earth’s
surface.
The
UN Mine Action Office, which coordinates demining projects run
by dozens of groups, says more than 2,000 people have been
killed or injured by mines since the end of the war. The cost
for farmers and communities is incalculable, it says.
Still
a struggle
With
a new administration and funds of between $1.5 - $1.7 billion a
year from the region’s share of oil revenues, many southerners
were expecting dramatic peace dividends for communities long
alienated from basic services by war.
They
have been disappointed. The daily struggle for survival has not
changed for most rural populations and returning refugees put
more pressure on scant resources. A government study showed
around 90 percent see corruption as a major problem.
And
the peace is still shaky.
In
December and January, Misseriya tribesmen fought southern
soldiers in the Abyei area, an oil-rich region straddling
northern and southern Sudan. The distribution of oil revenues
and border demarcation remain contentious issues.
But
Mary, who fled the war to neighbouring Uganda, believes
passionately that peace will hold.
‘My
work is like a soldier,’ she explained.
‘When
we are in training we learn: your first mistake is your last,’
she said as she showed her simple bush tent that contained a
fancy handbag and a bottle of nail polish.
So
far, Mary’s team and another NPA team have removed 205
antipersonnel mines and 96 anti-tank mines from around the main
road that links neighbouring Uganda to Juba, the capital of a
vast and wild region that still has no large commercial farming
or factories.
For
Mary, who feels her baby move as she works, the job just has to
be done, inch by gruelling inch in prickling grass.
‘We
have to work hard to develop our country, even if it is hard,’
she said. ‘We have to clear. For my children and for
others.’
Mary
initially wanted to be a doctor but could not afford the
training. But her pragmatic mind has adapted well to clearing
contaminated earth.
A
woman’s touch
According
to Lado Victor, from Norwegian People’s Aid, women learn
demining techniques as quickly as men but follow procedures more
vigorously. The only complication is pregnancy.
Southerners
have traditionally raised large families with up to 10 children,
and since the war there is a social consensus on the need to
repopulate. At any one time, a handful of the 25-woman team are
pregnant, Victor explained.
The
women used to have in-camp sitters who would look after the
babies while they were in the minefields. But the sudden
appearance of a rabid dog from the wilderness encouraged NPA to
enforce longer maternity leave.
Mary
will eventually leave her child with her mother in a nearby
town. She admits that especially since she became pregnant for
the first time there has been growing pressure on her to stop
what many in the traditionally conservative south see as
masculine and dangerous labour.
‘A
lot of people tell my husband he should stop me,’ she said.
‘I just don’t mind it,’ she adds.
Reuters
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