My Valentine’s Day disaster

I traveled with Elizabeth McNaughton on Valentine's day in Tacloban, Philippines, the worst area affected by Typhoon Haiyan. This is her story.

17 February 2014

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It is a Valentine’s Day like no other and it starts early. I look out the jeep window, a little bleary eyed from the 4am start. Tacloban flashes past as we drive to a relief distribution. We slow a little as we come to a roundabout - it looks a little odd, kind of lumpy with little sticks and flowers on it. I lean up against the window for a better look - my stomach drops. My sleepy mind had mistaken a mass grave for a council gardener’s mishap. Five minutes after arriving at the airport I feel walloped by reality. I guess this is what you can expect from the strongest cyclone on record to ever make landfall.

We stop at the relief distribution site. I sit a little before getting out. There are loads of concrete slabs – the remains of the buildings that once stood here. They make me shiver as they remind me of the Boxing Day Tsunami. My eyes dance over the life around me and settle on a tiny clearing next to a palm hut. The hut has a precarious lean to it and a patch it job barely holds it together. Traffic whizzes by on the narrow road inviting calamity only to be saved at the last minute by a cacophony of horns. It is here that I am privy to a special moment.
A dad is hunched over washing a beautiful little boy. He does it in such a caring way. I can see that a bucket bath on the roadside has become a familiar ritual for them both. The little chap is completely lathered up and delights in the attention. He squirms and smiles as cold water runs down his back, completely oblivious to the beeping horns and chaos around him. I think perhaps it is these constants and rituals that help people through times like this. I think of my precious husband and son back home, and then I can’t help it, I think of the fathers and sons under the roundabout. Enough thinking. I jump out of the jeep.
A Philippine Red Cross volunteer hands me a box, one of 100,000 that the Red Cross has distributed to families. A simple hygiene kit – the basics bring dignity. I get my bureaucracy off and a sweat on. With almost every box I hand over I am offered a ‘thank you and happy Valentine’s Day’ greeting in return. I don’t want to say ‘you’re welcome’ because these brave and strong people have a right to dignity - they have a right to the basics - to be clean. No thanks required. So, I start to say things along the lines of ‘Happy Valentine’s Day and take care’.
It reminds me of our distribution of winter warmer packs in Christchurch. People told us ‘we thought everyone had forgotten about us - and then you came’.  It was not only things that we distributed but care - because homes and families are broken long after the media goes home! In 10,000 different ways our volunteers said to Cantabrians ‘we care about you’.
650 kits are distributed and we head back to base camp. I drop my gear in tent number 8 and head to the kitchen.
To my delight I find that there are four Kiwis at base camp that night. Bob McKerrow a Red Cross legend whose home town is Christchurch, James Hynes our IT & Telecommunications Emergency Response Unit team member and Charles Ranby who worked all hours of the day and night during the New Zealand Red Cross response to the Canterbury earthquakes.
It is a strange merging of worlds - as we Kiwis work together in the Philippines so do Filipinos in Christchurch.  They mourn their loss as they tirelessly rebuild our city.  As the anniversary of February 22^nd draws near we remember our loss as we see theirs.  I spoke to a Filipino official who told me how she only slept three hours a night for 47 nights following the Typhoon.  I see it on her face just as I see it on the faces of so many dedicated New Zealanders who still put life and sleep on hold to support the earthquake recovery effort.  I must say at base camp tonight Christchurch and Tacloban do not feel far apart at all.
As I turn out my wee light in tent number 8 I think back to the roundabout and all those people out there in the world tonight who don’t have their Valentine this year, and those who can no longer give their little boy a bath.
Photo credit: Bob McKerrow/Swiss Red Cross

Elizabeth McNaughton
Writing from Philippines

Elizabeth is an experienced aid worker who is currently in the Philippines as the IFRC’s Interim Recovery Coordinator. She has previously worked in south Asia after the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami, and was the New Zealand Red Cross national recovery manager after the Canterbury earthquakes. She is currently the Principal Advisor, Strategy and Planning, to New Zealand Red Cross secretary general Tony Paine.

Najibullah - An interview with his daughter.

On most mornings over a three year period when I lived in Kabul, Afghanistan,  from  1993 to 1996, I would walk past the UN compound where Dr. Mohhamad Najibullah  was detained. My friends in the ICRC visited him regularly to ensure he was in good  health. My first visit to Afghanistan was in 1976 and I have such wonderful memories  of a peaceful country that was bubbling with potential and promise. Alas, it was not  to be. From my extensive experience from living and working in Afghanistan, and  talking to experts like Nancy Dupree and Whitney Azoy the author of Buzkashi, and  researching widely, I reached the conclusion that Najibullah was the only leader in the  last fifty years that could have led Afghanistan to the peace and stability most Afghans  crave for. I worked for some years with Najibullah's daughter Heela, and I am delighted  she gave this interview recently to Al Jazeera.  It is time to revise Afghanistan's history and to see Dr. Mohammad Najibullah given  his true place.		I
Q&A: Heela Najibullah
The daughter of Afghanistan's last communist president  reflects on politics and pluralism in the strife-riven state. Ali M Latifi
Backed by the Soviet Union, Mohammad Najibullah is fondly remembered by some Afghans [Reuters]
Kabul, Afghanistan - Heela Najibullah was only 10-years-old when her father became the president of Afghanistan. To Heela, Mohammad Najibullah was Aba,  father, trying to create reconciliation among an Afghan nation divided between communists and Mujhaideen, religious warriors  fighting soviet occupation. Though Heela saw her father working towards an inclusive solution to the Afghan  conflict, few in the general population could separate Najibullah the communist from Najibullah the president calling for reconciliation. In the decades since, however, Najibullah's image has undergone a transformation. Pictures of a man once tied to communism now hang in people's cars, windows and shops. In an interview Al Jazeera, Heela Najibullah talks about her father's changing  image 25 years after the soviet withdrawal. AJ: How old were you during Dr Najib's presidency? How old were you  when he died? HN: Aba [my father] became the President when I was 10. He was killed when I was 18; we had not  met him for four-and-a-half years. AJ: How do people react today when you say you are the daughter of  Dr Najibullah? How, if at all,  has that changed over the years? HN: I usually don't mention whose daughter I am. Recently, I met a young Afghan who was aware of my background and whose father was a Mujahid during the Cold War. Surprisingly, he also acknowledged “not reconciling with the Dr was a missed opportunity”. Today he is viewed as a man of vision who understood the politics of his country in relation to the super powers and regional powers, a man who was progressive and yet respectful of Afghan culture, a man who wanted peace and an independent Afghanistan and a man who stood by his ideals. I also am often told how his predictions of the future wars and bloodshed came true, and that the Afghans paid with their blood and honor in the name of religion as he had foreseen. AJ: How do you think people perceived Dr Najib during his presidency?  How, if at all, did that  change over the years? HN: Aba's Presidency and its perception were greatly influenced by the  on-going super power rivalries. His image, as that of the entire Afghan  political scene, was taken hostage. His reconciliation efforts and hopes  for [a] peaceful Afghanistan were usually a target of Cold War propaganda because of his affiliation with PDPA [the People's Democratic Party of Afghanistan] and the years he was head of KHAD [the Soviet-backed intelligence agency]. However, Aba's government and his leadership gained popularity once the Soviets withdrew. The fact  that his government survived the opposition's continued offensive post  withdrawal was a boost to the moral of Watan party members and the masses. From the perspective of one neighbourhood in Herat AJ: Those who opposed his government - political figures and average Afghans on the street- what do you think led them to that opposition? HN: I believe that those political figures, who opposed Najibullah's government, had started their political opposition before PDPA came to power. We all know today that their opposition gained strength outside Afghanistan. It is hard to quantify how many of the average Afghans opposed his government. Afghan social structure is complex; one cannot put all Afghans in one basket. AJ: How did you perceive his presidency, growing up? Has that changed  over time for you? HN: As a child I found it hard to adjust to our changing environment when he became the president. I remember praying he quits politics and starts practicing medicine so my sisters and I could spend more time with him.  I followed closely the reconciliation process and often felt insecure about our future wondering what our lives will entail if the extremists took over. Our movement was restricted because of security, schools had become irregular, [the] number ofrockets and shelling had increased, I had already lost my first grade teacher and classmate in bomb explosions and my friends in school had started leaving the country. Yet, Aba always reminded us that we were not any different from other Afghans and that he was doinghis best to finalise the peace process through the United Nations for his people and us, the future generations of Afghanistan. AJ: Growing up did you see a very different man in public and  private? What were the differences? HN: My sisters and I grew up with a father who watched movies with  us, played sport, taught us howto recite the Quran, listened to Afghan Folk music and old Hindi songs,watched the football World Cup and told us stories of caliphates and emperors. As a private person, he enjoyed living a simple life always appreciating friendships and nature. While  in public, I always saw him as a dedicated leader who sincerely  thought of serving his people and his nation hoping to bring  peace and stability to Afghanistan. AJ: What would surprise people about your father and his  personality? HN: People are surprised to hear that he was soft and sensitive inside and yet very decisive, strong and stubborn at the same time. When he made-up his mind irrespective of the risks and consequences, he would act on it. Dr Najibullah's government had a solid political party system while President Karzai's governmentruns on alliances of power brokers along ethnic lines and old political affiliations. AJ: Do you have a memory from your father's time in Afghanistan  that sticks out to you the most? HN: Often Aba would tell us stories with a hidden message, one such story that he shared with my sisters and I, was about a mother, who assembled her five children and gave them each a stick to break. Once the children had broken the sticks into two, she collected them into a bundle and gave each the bundle to break, which none of the children could break. He concluded his story by telling us that the mother drew the lesson for her children that when you are alone you can be broken easily but when you unite no one can  divide you. I often remind myself of his story and hope that one day Afghans could realise their power in their unity. AJ: How would you describe him as a father? Did that differ from how  he was a leader? HN: As a father he was a guide to my moral consciousness and as a leader,  my hope for a stable Afghanistan. AJ: Why do you think people are drawn Dr Najib rather than say Zahir Shah,  Daoud Khan or even Amanullah? HN: When one reflects on leadership in Afghanistan, Najibullah was the  first and only leader to fight for peace and not power or territory. He publicly announced that for a peaceful resolution with his opposition, he was willing to accept their conditions to step down. AJ: Some would say Dr Najib and Hamid Karzai are in similar  situations, would you agree? HN: I don't think Najibullah and Hamid Karzai are entirely in similar situations. Najibullah's government had no support from the international community while Hamid Karzai's government has signed strategic agreements which shall last beyond the withdrawal of ISAF and NATO forces. [The] Soviet withdrawal was enforced in less than one year, while  withdrawal of ISAF and NATO forces are currently debated. Dr Najibullah's government was stronger and independent in terms of its decision-making processes  and military capacity, while President Karzai's government doesn't enjoy the same capacity or independence. Dr Najibullah's government had a solid political party system while  President Karzai's government runs on alliances of power brokers along ethnic lines and old political affiliations. Dr Najibullah's reconciliation policy promoted political pluralism and national unity and indicated religious extremism and poor economy as the prime enemy for Afghanistan's national interest. While the Bonn Agreement was the foundation of a divided society based on ethnicity and selected historical victories of ruling factions who are  negotiating the agreement to allow US bases. However, what remains the same are the regional and international rivalries and continued involvement of Afghanistan's neighboring countries in its internal politics. Heela Najibullah with Bob McKerrow in Geneva 2009