Helmand 4: Bringing a ghost town back to life

by Hamish Wilson/

The Huey skimmed the jagged crest of the mountain at a furious pace. I squinted into the gale as the district of Now Zad emerged from behind the line of peaks standing guard. This rollercoaster 10-minute flight spared me the dangers of a gruelling, IED-riddled road journey from Musa Qal’eh.

This had been my third attempt to reach the north-western most district of Helmand. To date I had been forced to abandon this half of my remit by a predictable combination of unavoidable local problems and delayed flights. I was growing ever more frustrated and curious to visit this beautiful place with as violent a history as any in the country.

For decades Now Zad was a prosperous city of over 20,000, and an important transit route supporting the largest bazaar in North Helmand. Its riches appealed to the Taliban, who seized the town four years ago. Bitter fighting forced the population to flee, and razed large parts of the city to rubble.

Retaken in a massive assault by the Marines late last year, people are slowly starting to return despite it remaining one of the most heavily mined districts in Afghanistan.

I found cause for hope in this ghost town, walking among the few shops open in the once thriving bazaar. Sayed Murad Agha, new into post, is an active and enthusiastic Governor, and leads animated weekly shuras in which local elders and religious figures are courted for their views on the district’s future.

Security now extends almost 10km in any direction from the District Centre – maintained by a large contingent of Marines working hand in hand with the growing Afghan police and army presence. I was astounded to feel more secure here than in any other district in Helmand.

The challenge now becomes one of development – rebuilding the bazaar, repairing destroyed homes, ridding the area of mines, opening new schools and clinics, and bringing life back to the bazaar. Cautiously trying an ice cream produced as if by magic from an unlikely (and slightly alarming) looking soft serve machine tucked away in a tiny corner store, I was both surprised and encouraged. Things are clearly improving.

If it is true that stability emerges through an all too rare combination of sustained security, effective governance and visible development, then Now Zad is making more headway than most.

Helmand 3: A historic transition

by Hamish Wilson/

As the lumbering Osprey helicopter roared overhead, blasting its audience with a searing cloud of dust, so ended the era of Mullah Salaam.

With the fall of Musa Qal’eh to the British in late 2007, Mullah Salaam became the highest profile Taliban commander to turn over his arms and renounce his position. In return he was granted protection and the Governorship – in the hope that others would follow suit.

His subsequent reign – maintained through an iron fist, political ties and a notorious private bodyguard – made a complex situation only more frought.

Yesterday that all changed.

An unassuming man by the name of Neimatullah arrived as Musa Qal’eh’s newest Governor. Serving as Deputy Governor for Marjeh, Neimatullah earned a reputation for getting things done – high praise for someone overseeing a district suffering the heaviest fighting of 2010.

I was curious to learn more as we shook hands. He smiled through his cropped white beard, crinkling his eyes and nodded. ‘These people have lived in darkness for so long’ he said as we talked of his plans for the coming days. ‘We cannot simply sit and talk and promise. We must listen and act to demonstrate our commitment to them. We must not rest in the days ahead’

‘Step by step we will bring back the government to the people. And if we fail, we will fail together’ he said – looking at Angus, myself and Col Manning as he spoke. ‘But if we succeed, we will succeed together.’

I began to see how he had earned his reputation. Humble and thoughtful, sharing a wry smile yet offering a glimpse into the ambition behind his words. I sense a dim ray of hope beginning to emerge for this war-torn district’s future.

Helmand 2: Reflections on the way from the Madrassa

by Hamish Wilson/

“It will probably be the greatest concentration of firepower in the District.” the battalion Executive Officer had assured me.  On his second tour in Afghanistan with the US Marine Corps, I was inclined to trust him on such things. That said, planning the security for the opening of a local madrassa – or religious school – was a first for both of us.

The opening of the Nasimia Madrassa

On the morning of the opening, an event publicised widely over RIAB – Radio In A Box – the Taliban had made their views known. In a gesture designed as a warning to the local population, they had opened fire on an Afghan National Police unit patrolling the area, darting in and out of their attack on motorbikes.

In spite of such tactics, or possibly because of them, a large number of local elders, as well as twenty or so enthusiastic students, turned out for the opening. As with such celebrations, speeches were held, poetry recited and gifts offered. The dignified silence of the elders contrasted with the barely restrained energy of the boys.

I turned to one young man seated amongst the crowd. He was a pharmacist with a small shop in the local bazaar. ‘Is this madrassa good for the community?’ I asked. ‘Very good.’ he agreed. ‘Do you think girls should be able to have education?’ I probed further, curious to hear the perspective of an educated man. ‘No’ he said bluntly. ‘It is against our tradition.’

The small successes in this campaign belie the challenges ahead.

We left as we came – in a mighty convoy of armoured vehicles of all description, both Marine and Afghan. And as the newly finished madrassa, gleaming with its new coat of blue paint shrank from view, I was left pondering its future. How long will it last? Will the community keep the Taliban at bay? When will there come a time when an event as seemingly uncontroversial as opening a place of education wont require ‘the greatest concentration of firepower in the district’?

Helmand 1: A unique inheritance

by Hamish Wilson/

‘Hamish, this is Archie – Chief of Operations in the Helmand PRT. We’re looking forward to getting you out here in a few days, but there’s been a slight change of plan. We now need you to head out to the district of Musa Qal’eh. Lots of good work to be done. See you soon.’

Thus began my unlikely adventure as a Stabilisation Adviser for the notorious district of Musa Qal’eh. Just one week in, I’m beginning to grasp the significance of a role inherited from an illustrious line of ‘Stabads’. Richard Jones first deployed into the aftermath of Operation Snakebite – the hard-fought but ultimately successful mission to retake the District in December of 2007. His six-month stint, enduring frequent mortar and rocket attacks, laid the initial groundwork for a reconstruction effort that is central to the District’s future.

My immediate predecessor, Mike McKie, arrived mid-2009 to build on eighteen months of hard work. His efforts – in partnership with two successive British brigades – have yielded remarkable progress in advance of the recent handover to US command.

The scale of the challenge however – and my remit – remains daunting; to support efforts to build Afghan security forces, to help improve governance across the District, to restore basic services such as water, sanitation and power, and to develop health and education facilities.

On top of all of this, Archie cunningly waited till I arrived to drop into casual conversation that my remit would also encompass that of the neighbouring District of Now Zad. With all that has come before me in these iconic places, his parting words made me smile; ‘You’ll love it.’