Afghanistan's hopes for peace

Afghan children now face a brighter future

		By the BBC's Caroline Wyatt

I had never walked through a minefield before I went to Afghanistan - at least, not intentionally.

But on my first day in Kabul, I was being guided slowly down a path on the Shamali Plains by the mine-clearers of the British charity, the Halo Trust.

On each side of us were stones, painted red to indicate landmines, and white to show it was safe.

We were filming a report on the dangers of landmines for Afghan families returning to their homes. However I had not imagined how frightening it would be for myself.

I hardly dared look up, across the honey-coloured plains to the ruined villages and the mountains above.

I was too busy watching every step until I could reach the safety of the road.

Unknown territory

I imagine that is rather how Afghanistan's new leader Hamid Karzai felt last Saturday, as he arrived for his inauguration.

Karzai is head of an interim administration

Over the next six months, he will be leading Afghanistan through unknown and potentially explosive territory.

I watched as 2,000 guests from around Afghanistan queued up to shake his hand.

Some were old friends, others have been fighting each other for decades.

Security was tight - British Royal Marines mingled outside, their camouflage fatigues incongruous against the flowing robes and bright turbans of the tribal leaders.

A murmur went up as General Dostum arrived - all the way from Mazar-e-Sharif.

He looked every inch the Uzbek warlord, with his five-day stubble and retinue of armed men.

Now he has been brought into the fold as Afghanistan's deputy defence minister.

Uniting Afghanistan

Who knows what Mr Karzai thought, as he looked around the packed hall at representatives of every tribe and every faction in Afghanistan, gathered for once in peace - if not yet trusting enough to leave their Kalashnikovs at home.

I listened as he asked for God's help in uniting his country, and the help of every Afghan man and woman in putting an end to the war.

His path will not be an easy one: too many red stones at every step, as each group vies for influence and power.

Then I went back to the BBC house - our comfortable refuge from the poverty and the bustle of the streets outside.

In the cosy living room, I found our translators sitting in absolute silence in front of the television, taking in every word of the ceremony. I asked Sharif, one of our translators, what he thought.

He said he thought that Mr Karzai was a good man, and the right man to bring peace.

Now, Sharif even thinks that soon, it may be safe to bring his wife and children back from Pakistan, where they are living in exile.

Sharif's eyes are bright at the thought, and he smiles more often these days.

With his carefully trimmed beard and serious demeanour, he looks more like the professor he wanted to be, before the Taleban cut short his studies.

Rebuilding lives

Sharif and his family had to flee Kabul when his work for international organisation displeased the Taleban authorities.

People in Afghanistan are so fed up with fighting, they don't even have the energy to make war these days

Afghan translator

Only a few months ago, he had hoped he and the family would emigrate to America.

Then 11 September happened. And everything changed.

Yet out of those appalling events, some good has come already.

Without the Taleban, many in Afghanistan are beginning to rebuild their lives, though the shadows of the past hang heavy.

Sharif has been offered a job by the BBC's Persian service. But he is not sure whether to accept.

In the early 1990s, at the height of the fighting in Kabul, he was driving with a friend, an Afghan reporter for the BBC.

They were stopped at a checkpoint - and his friend was dragged out and lynched by an angry crowd.

They had not liked his friend's reports.

Christmas in Kabul

Yet Sharif believes that this time, the peace may last, and not just because of the international troops on the streets.

Mr Karzai asked for the help of every man - and woman - in uniting Afghanistan

"People in Afghanistan are so fed up with fighting," Sharif said.

"They don't even have the energy to make war these days."

I hope he is right. It seemed more than a coincidence that the end of the Taleban came just in time for the festival of Eid at the end of Ramadan and for our own Christmas in Kabul.

This year, the celebrations felt like a new beginning. During Eid, Sharif had asked me how we usually spent Christmas.

Lots of food, I said, friends and family, music and presents.

That night, a seven-piece traditional Afghan band appeared at the door of the BBC house.

Former warlords such as new deputy defence minister Rashid Dostrum will now work for peace

Sharif had booked them to play as a present to us - and it was one of the best gifts ever.

Soon, the house was filled with music - and the band played with a gusto that only five years of enforced silence can produce.

Everybody danced; the Afghan men weaving in sinuous circles to the beat of the drum.

Our Afghan cook had also surpassed himself. That morning, the turkey he bought at the market had been wandering happily around the garden.

That evening, it was on the table, curried, accompanied by rice and the ubiquitous Kabul cauliflower.

The Christmas hamper of goodies that we had brought with us from England - full of pickled onions and cheese straws - was a source of fascination for our local guests.

Equally puzzling to them were the British diplomats and army spokesmen who arrived in Santa hats and mistletoe.

The purpose of the mistletoe was explained to general delight.

Exhausted by the dancing, one of our drivers sat down and turned to us, beaming.

Afghanistan's new government will have to feed its starving population

"This is the second party of my life," he said. "The first was when I graduated as a lawyer, before the Taleban."

They had stopped his career in its tracks - forbidding him to practise law.

But like Sharif, and so many others, he is now starting afresh.

It was only the city curfew at 10pm that stopped the dancing.

Had it not been in effect, our Afghan guests would have danced all night, with the energy and gusto of a people who have made it through the worst and are now coming back to life.