Up Close and Personal - Fire Crackers! : Nuzhat Shahzadi

The UN multi-agency compound (HMAC) housed most of the UN agencies in Herat, except WHO.  Inside HMAC, we had several blocks of residences for internationals, built conveniently apart––looked like army-barracks. I think each block had 4 rooms in total––one bedroom with attached bathroom for each resident. Not sharing the bathroom was a luxury.

The dining room was a brief walk from the offices and living quarters. Usually we all ate together and chatted to catch up. Our daily socialization!

UN car park in winter in HMAC

My neighbors were two UNDSS colleagues–– Saleh (Ugandan), Evan (Scandinavian), and the 3rd neighbor was a European, worked with UNAMA (United Nations Assisted Mission in Afghanistan). All were men. Adjoa, UNICEF-operations manager, lived in the next block. She was from Ghana.

The compound was huge. After office, many of us took to walking. We couldn’t go outside except in office cars and only when absolutely necessary. We weren’t allowed to drive, either. A red light flashed constantly from a high satellite antenna/tower from the UNAMA office rooftop that secured our IT connections. The tower-light could be spotted from miles away, especially at night. 

All UN staff were picked up and dropped by office vehicles. To come to the office, staff had to cross a stretch known as “Pashtoon Pul” ––Talebans’ favorite spot which they often shelled with RPGs. We jokingly called it “target practicing zone.” 

Roses in summer, UNICEF-Office, HMAC

 . . . I had just joined the UNICEF-Herat office (2007) and was trying to fit into my new life . . . It was past midnight, was watching TV and heard big “boom” sounds, twice–– came from somewhere close by. I felt uncomfortable. Didn’t receive any alerts on my phone. Perhaps I imagined it? 

Next morning, UNDSS called an emergency area security management team (ASMT) meeting. They reported a stand off RPG attack. The shells fell 200-300 feet away from the boundary walls. It happened––wasn’t my imagination.

Our staff came to speak with me. Another emergency-ad hoc meeting in UNICEF! They pleaded to move our office to town instead of the HMAC as crossing Pashtun Pul was risky. A year before I took over as head of the field office, our driver Sirajuddin was killed and Nazari, our national WASH officer, was critically wounded in an RPG attack while in a UNICEF-vehicle. He survived losing a leg and was still recovering in a hospital overseas. The fear was too raw. Last night’s RPG attack had rattled the staff. Catherine, our Rep, and operations in Kabul office listened to our plea and promptly sided with us.

My battle with UNICEF HQ, NY regarding the office move began from then on!

I returned from my first R&R. Before the euphoria of the break could be erased, HMAC came under another RPG attack. It happened right after midnight, again. The building shook with a deafening sound as the rockets fell tearing the silence of the night. 

I ran outside and caught a glimpse of Evan in his bulletproof vest, without a helmet rushing away. Saleh came out wearing a sarong, bewildered. The commotion had woken him from sleep. He just stood in the doorway. 

One look at him and I said, “Go inside. Get in your clothes.” He obeyed.

The UNAMA colleague also hurried outside. None of us wore bulletproof vests––it was too sudden. The compound lights were switched off for security. Moonlight flooded the grounds. We sat outside, didn’t see anyone else from the other blocks. Possibly they had managed to get to the bunker, which was quite far away––ours was the farthest from the bunker. 

Saleh came back––fully dressed. The three of us huddled on the concrete stairs of our building, under the night sky. We daren’t venture out. Mosquitos swarmed around and got to us. We waited for updates . . . we shared stories––about Afghanistan, work, some snippets of our personal lives. At one point Saleh said he was hungry. We all were hungry. I had some cashews and almonds in my room. I got them. The men didn’t want to go in (!).  We polished away 3-4 packets of nuts––my entire snack-ration for a month! 

I called our Kabul office to report the incident. 

Around 4 a.m. Evan came back. He, with other UNDSS-staff, was with the national UNPU (United Nations Protection Unit) guards to secure the compound. The RPGs had hit one of the boundary walls and slightly damaged it but most fell outside the boundary. The lights were switched back on and we went to our rooms.

What a night!!! It was a close call! 

Soon afterwards, I was designated as an alternate area security coordinator (ASC). We were three ASCs in Herat––I became the only female ASC, possibly the first (1 Oct, 2007).

The HMAC resident-barrack was closed down. We moved out to different UN guesthouses. Eventually, we managed to move the UNICEF-office in town. The other offices remained in HMAC.

The residence-barrack was reopened about a year later. By that time we had established our own guesthouse.

Anyway, I got a taste of firecrackers in my “first-trimester” of existence in Afghanistan . . . that was just the warm up!!

Meeting with women partners in UNICEF-Herat Office (Nuzhat in Burqa)

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