Mechanic! The Bad Luck That I am Suffering from Happened to You Too

Name: Mohammad Hasan

Date of Birth: 2 April 1942

Date of Injury: 8 March 1994

Type of Arm: Kalashnikov

More than ten people were killed that night, my son included. We were digging a grave for my son. We were almost done when rockets started firing again. Everyone left and wished peace for my son. They said they didn't want to be killed. I was left alone. There was no one else. I wished my son was a kid so I could pick him up and put him in his grave.

I entered the alley and knocked on a door. There were many people in that house. They all refuged to a corner of the house. When I told them the story, some of them said they are no better than my son. They followed me to the mosque to take my son’s corpse to the cemetery. We buried my son in the dark.

After we were done, no one was left there. I was wondering how to go home. I returned home in the darkness. When I came home, I saw that my wife was sitting very sad with a neighbor next to her. She told me that Nilofar was wounded. None of us had seen her. A neighbor took her to the hospital. The neighbor told me that Nilofar was on the roof. When the rocket hit our house, our son was killed instantly and Nilofar was injured. She was jolting in the yard, and the neighbor took her to the hospital.

That night passed. In the morning, I wanted to find someone to go to the hospital with so that we were not alone if any of us were injured on the way. When I left the house, I raised my hand. There was a house close to ours. Someone from the roof of it shot me. It was 7 AM. Another person was watching me from the front house. He told me to enter the house before I get shot again. I went. He tied my hand. He said, “Uncle, the bleeding does not stop.” In that moment my blanket (men’s scarf) slipped down. A woman ran to take it. Just then, a rocket was fired and the poor woman was killed. A boy riding his bicycle was passing by. He was killed by a Kalashnikov bullet. He had no one to look after him.

Members of the house that I had entered told me that if the bleeding did not stop, it could kill me. He said to get up and go somewhere from the back way. I thanked him. My hand was bleeding. I stepped down the first and second stairs, but fell down the third stair and lost consciousness.

When I woke up, there were two boys next to me. The tied my hand with a piece of cloth and were giving me syrup. They told me, ”Uncle, there is fighting everywhere. We cannot find anything in the bazar. We will take you outside. You might find a car. Take yourself to a hospital.” After they took me outside, they ran back. I realized that no one was outside.

There were bullets being shot everywhere. I thought I was going to be killed. I wanted to enter an alley but I fell down. After some minutes, there was a bullet shot next to me. I tried to get up, but again my sight grew dim. Someone I knew very well was passing by. He was the District Chief of the 16th District. I told him, “Sir, help me to take myself to a hospital.” He replied, “You are about to die, and want me to get killed too.”

Just then, two young boys riding bicycles appeared. They got down and looked at me. One of them said, "There is someone killed." When I heard them told them that I am alive, helped me to get to the hospital. One of them said, "Leave him alone, we will be killed." But the other one said, “No, let’s help him. He has come out of his home and is injured.” One of them held me up to ride the bicycle.

I asked them, “Where are you taking me?” He said, “There is not a fight in the village. But in here, you can be killed by a bullet any time.” He tied the blanket around my shoulder and moved. A few steps further, I saw one of my friends. I was happy to see him. He was aware of what had happened to my family in the last two days and when he saw me, came toward me. I told the boys that he was a friend, and if it is possible leave me with him so that he helps me. The boys asked him, “Uncle, can you help him? We have to go and see how our families are.” He helped me and we entered a house.

There was food inside the house that we entered, plates were filled with rice and breads and were left untouched. When the fighting got intense, they house members had ran away without touching their food.

I asked him how he could help me. I told him that I had enough money with me, find a driver and give him as much as he wants. He left the house. After some minutes he returned and said there were no cars outside. I was wondering what to do. I gave him the address of a doctor I knew and asked him to tell the doctor that the mechanic is injured. Thankfully, he agreed and left. When he returned, he said that houses’ members have all left the house and the house was empty. He had no clue where they were.

Suddenly, I remembered a commander I knew. Almost a month ago, he lost three of his family members, his father and two of his brothers.

The person who was with me knew him too and told me that he had just seen him outside. I asked him to go out and tell the commander that mechanic is injured; he knows me.

After a few minutes, the commander came and told me, “The bad luck I am suffering from happened to you too.” I said, “Yeah, I lost my son and my three-year-old daughter is injured. I don’t know how my family is and they don’t know where I am.”

The commander called in his soldiers and they took me to a Russian Jeep. They took me to the Wazir Akbar Khan Hospital. I don’t remember anything after we got close to the hospital. I just remember that they put me on a blanket. There were three people wearing masks, one of them injected me with Anesthetic Ampoule, I was unconscious after that. When I woke up, my hand hurt. I looked around to see where I was. When I took a careful look, there were three more people on the ground and they were injured like me. We were all on the third floor and were lying on the ground so that we were safe from bullets. We were lying in the corridor. Many people were injured. I saw one of my relatives. He was injured too. I asked him to let my sister know that I am in the hospital. After three days, my sister could inform my wife about me. They had looked for me in all the nearby hospitals and could not find me.

Even now, my hand is numb. If it is wounded or burned, I don’t feel it. It took two months for my wound to get better. “Every night, I walk to my duty to find bread to feed my children, to be able to send them to school. We are a populated family.”