A journey to save a country
The first time I met Aki Ra, he was walking out of the jungles of Cambodia in a t-shirt, shorts and flip flops, his uniform when plying his craft: defusing landmines, hand grenades, and other forms of man’s creative, or I guess I should say, uncreative abilities.
Aki Ra was born into a time of chaos, that would soon slip into a reign of terror unknown in recorded history. Hitler and Stalin killed more people than the Khmer Rouge of Cambodia, but no one had ever destroyed one-third to one-half of their own population, either intentionally or unintentionally. Just the thought of destruction on that scale had kept the world from a nuclear holocaust throughout the Cold War.
The Khmer Rouge came to power on April 17, 1975 and systematically destroyed their country for 3 years, 8 months and 20 days. Every citizen of Cambodia over 30 knows to the hour and minute how long the Khmer Rouge ruled their country. I only know it to the day.
Aki Ra was separated from his parents at the age of two and only saw his mother when she brought food to his class. Children were separated from their parents. Families didn’t exist in the Cambodia of the Khmer Rouge. Everyone belonged to the State. Rules came from the Angkor, and their leader, Pol Pot, known only as Brother Number 1.
His parents were dead by the time he was 5; his father for committing the unforgivable sin of recovering from an illness, proof enough that he had been faking his ill health. His mother was sent away to “school” for keeping an old man from falling over one day. She never returned. School was a place no one dared contemplate.
At five he was forced to join the Khmer Rouge Army. At ten he received his first weapon, an AK47, so big he could hardly carry it. His training was “on-the-job”. One of his closest friends shot himself in the head when he was given a loaded rifle with the safety turned off. The life of a child was cheap in 1970s Cambodia. And you created your own entertainment.
For almost 20 years Aki Ra fought in various armies, captured by one and given the choice to join or die, and then drafted into another when he hoped the killing had ended. In the 1990s the UN came to Cambodia and asked Aki Ra to help them remove some of the landmines that had been spread throughout the country by a truly international group of armies: the French, the Americans, the Vietnamese, the Chinese, the Thais, and they themselves, the various different armies of Cambodia and Democratic Kampuchea. As good as he had become in designing, building, and planting landmines, he found he was even better at removing them. He’d found his trade. Aki Ra decided then and there that he would devote his life to “making my country safe for my people”.
Aki Ra’s not sure exactly how many mines he’s defused, or how many hand grenades he’s removed, or how many artillery shells he’s taken apart since he started, what many consider, his quixotic journey. Quixotic or not, he’s removed tens of thousands of explosives, saving untold hundreds or perhaps thousands of lives and limbs.
No one knows how many landmines are in Cambodia. I’ve seen estimates as low as 4,000,000, and estimates as high as 10,000,000. The consensus seems to be somewhere around 6,000,000. International de-mining groups can clear one mine every three hours at a cost of $300 - $1,000. Aki Ra can clear 3 an hour at $1 each. And he still has all his limbs and digits. All the mines should be cleared within 50 years; some say it could take 100. Aki Ra wants to do it sooner.
Landmines are equal opportunity weapons. They don’t care who you are, a soldier, a wife, a child or an animal. They’re all destroyed with equal efficiency. The average income in Cambodia has risen dramatically in the last few years. It’s all the way up to $310 a year. A child without a limb is a huge burden on a family. Thousands of these maimed kids have been tossed on the street, to wander aimlessly and fend for themselves, in a hopeless and desperate effort to stay alive. I don’t even want to go there in this blog.
As Aki Ra began his de-mining program he found and brought home some of the kids he’d seen on the street. And parents have given him their children to raise, knowing their future was brighter with Aki Ra than at home. He and his wife have two children of their own and (to date) have adopted 16 kids that would otherwise have a bleak and hopeless future in the Cambodia of today.
I can tell you any number of stories about the children Aki Ra has taken into his home, but let me tell you just one. The story of Poi, a young man who came to Aki Ra a few years ago:
Poi was injured when he walked into a rice field with some soldiers. He stepped on a mine and remembers being blown into the air by the explosion. Injured, it took two hours by oxcart for him to reach a doctor. It was at night and a battle was going on near the village. The doctor determined Poi’s leg needed to be removed, so he tore Poi’s clothes into strips and stuffed them in his mouth to stifle his screams before he cut off his leg with a wood saw. Poi was six years old
When I met Aki Ra, in 2003, I had traveled to Cambodia to see the ruins of Angkor and to meet this man I’d heard about. When I left I decided there was something I could do to help. I’d been donating money to charities every year. Not huge amounts, but I gave what I could, never knowing if my money ever reached those who really needed it. I knew that if I gave to Aki Ra, I’d be reaching that objective. So I gave Aki Ra all the money I had on me at the time, plus some that I’d gotten from other tourists with whom I was traveling. When I got home I started the Landmine Relief Fund.
Our sole purpose is to assist Aki Ra in his work and in the support of his extended family. We wire money to him monthly and our expenses are paid for by private individuals. Our supporters give what they can. We have donors who’ve given as much as $1,000 and as little as $10 a month. Everything helps. There is great power in small numbers working together. Our expenses are few and include the cost of a website, the cost of transferring money, and monthly charges from our bank. We have no paid staff, and everything we get goes to Aki Ra.
The purpose of this blog is to keep people informed of the work Aki Ra is doing and bring you up to date on his experiences and any media coverage we get. Read us regularly. Tell your friends about Aki Ra and this blogsite. And to all of you who have donated...thank you.
Aki Ra was born into a time of chaos, that would soon slip into a reign of terror unknown in recorded history. Hitler and Stalin killed more people than the Khmer Rouge of Cambodia, but no one had ever destroyed one-third to one-half of their own population, either intentionally or unintentionally. Just the thought of destruction on that scale had kept the world from a nuclear holocaust throughout the Cold War.
The Khmer Rouge came to power on April 17, 1975 and systematically destroyed their country for 3 years, 8 months and 20 days. Every citizen of Cambodia over 30 knows to the hour and minute how long the Khmer Rouge ruled their country. I only know it to the day.
Aki Ra was separated from his parents at the age of two and only saw his mother when she brought food to his class. Children were separated from their parents. Families didn’t exist in the Cambodia of the Khmer Rouge. Everyone belonged to the State. Rules came from the Angkor, and their leader, Pol Pot, known only as Brother Number 1.
His parents were dead by the time he was 5; his father for committing the unforgivable sin of recovering from an illness, proof enough that he had been faking his ill health. His mother was sent away to “school” for keeping an old man from falling over one day. She never returned. School was a place no one dared contemplate.
At five he was forced to join the Khmer Rouge Army. At ten he received his first weapon, an AK47, so big he could hardly carry it. His training was “on-the-job”. One of his closest friends shot himself in the head when he was given a loaded rifle with the safety turned off. The life of a child was cheap in 1970s Cambodia. And you created your own entertainment.
For almost 20 years Aki Ra fought in various armies, captured by one and given the choice to join or die, and then drafted into another when he hoped the killing had ended. In the 1990s the UN came to Cambodia and asked Aki Ra to help them remove some of the landmines that had been spread throughout the country by a truly international group of armies: the French, the Americans, the Vietnamese, the Chinese, the Thais, and they themselves, the various different armies of Cambodia and Democratic Kampuchea. As good as he had become in designing, building, and planting landmines, he found he was even better at removing them. He’d found his trade. Aki Ra decided then and there that he would devote his life to “making my country safe for my people”.
Aki Ra’s not sure exactly how many mines he’s defused, or how many hand grenades he’s removed, or how many artillery shells he’s taken apart since he started, what many consider, his quixotic journey. Quixotic or not, he’s removed tens of thousands of explosives, saving untold hundreds or perhaps thousands of lives and limbs.
No one knows how many landmines are in Cambodia. I’ve seen estimates as low as 4,000,000, and estimates as high as 10,000,000. The consensus seems to be somewhere around 6,000,000. International de-mining groups can clear one mine every three hours at a cost of $300 - $1,000. Aki Ra can clear 3 an hour at $1 each. And he still has all his limbs and digits. All the mines should be cleared within 50 years; some say it could take 100. Aki Ra wants to do it sooner.
Landmines are equal opportunity weapons. They don’t care who you are, a soldier, a wife, a child or an animal. They’re all destroyed with equal efficiency. The average income in Cambodia has risen dramatically in the last few years. It’s all the way up to $310 a year. A child without a limb is a huge burden on a family. Thousands of these maimed kids have been tossed on the street, to wander aimlessly and fend for themselves, in a hopeless and desperate effort to stay alive. I don’t even want to go there in this blog.
As Aki Ra began his de-mining program he found and brought home some of the kids he’d seen on the street. And parents have given him their children to raise, knowing their future was brighter with Aki Ra than at home. He and his wife have two children of their own and (to date) have adopted 16 kids that would otherwise have a bleak and hopeless future in the Cambodia of today.
I can tell you any number of stories about the children Aki Ra has taken into his home, but let me tell you just one. The story of Poi, a young man who came to Aki Ra a few years ago:
Poi was injured when he walked into a rice field with some soldiers. He stepped on a mine and remembers being blown into the air by the explosion. Injured, it took two hours by oxcart for him to reach a doctor. It was at night and a battle was going on near the village. The doctor determined Poi’s leg needed to be removed, so he tore Poi’s clothes into strips and stuffed them in his mouth to stifle his screams before he cut off his leg with a wood saw. Poi was six years old
When I met Aki Ra, in 2003, I had traveled to Cambodia to see the ruins of Angkor and to meet this man I’d heard about. When I left I decided there was something I could do to help. I’d been donating money to charities every year. Not huge amounts, but I gave what I could, never knowing if my money ever reached those who really needed it. I knew that if I gave to Aki Ra, I’d be reaching that objective. So I gave Aki Ra all the money I had on me at the time, plus some that I’d gotten from other tourists with whom I was traveling. When I got home I started the Landmine Relief Fund.
Our sole purpose is to assist Aki Ra in his work and in the support of his extended family. We wire money to him monthly and our expenses are paid for by private individuals. Our supporters give what they can. We have donors who’ve given as much as $1,000 and as little as $10 a month. Everything helps. There is great power in small numbers working together. Our expenses are few and include the cost of a website, the cost of transferring money, and monthly charges from our bank. We have no paid staff, and everything we get goes to Aki Ra.
The purpose of this blog is to keep people informed of the work Aki Ra is doing and bring you up to date on his experiences and any media coverage we get. Read us regularly. Tell your friends about Aki Ra and this blogsite. And to all of you who have donated...thank you.
Bill Morse
22 April 2005
posted by Bill Morse @ 12:11 PM
