Najmuddin Helal

Najmuddin, age 43, is the head of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) orthopaedic centre in Kabul – by far the biggest ICRC physical rehabilitation facility in the world.

When I realised my legs were gone, I felt completely hopeless and afraid – afraid of disappointing my family, of not being able to help or support them, of depending on them for everything, of being an outcast… I am my parents' eldest son out of nine children, so I knew they had big expectations. It was as if the tree they had planted to bear fruit had been cut down. But thankfully, they were very caring and understanding.

I was in hospital for 12 months. It took five months before I could even sit up in bed. Afterwards I stayed at home for five long years, just sitting on a chair by the front door of our house, doing nothing. This was a very difficult time. I wasn't able to get any kind of work. People felt sorry for me, treated me as a victim, and didn't really encourage me to get back on my feet.

In 1988, I heard about the newly-opened ICRC orthopaedic centre in Kabul. I went there, and was registered as the 34th patient. I stayed in one of the centre's dormitories. Within a few months I had received new prostheses and was slowly, painfully, learning to walk with them. At last I had a glimmer of hope that my life would begin to improve.

The orthopaedic centre had – and still has – a policy of positive discrimination in favour of disabled people, so everyone working there has some kind of physical disability. Before long, I was employed as a physiotherapist, helping people in a similar situation to myself. Hiring disabled people makes sense since they understand the particular problems and needs, and can help to give hope to the patients here.

Sometimes I still feel that what happened to me was very unfair. I wasn't a fighter, I didn't have any enemies. I still have a burning sensation in the stumps of my legs, and sometimes a sharp phantom pain in my foot that isn't actually there. Sometimes I feel sad that I will never be able to run, never feel water on my legs.

But really I can't complain. Of course, the economic situation in the country is catastrophic and many able-bodied people can't get work, never mind those who are disabled. So in many ways I feel lucky, not only to be able to support my family but also to give hope to even a few people who suffered the same fate as me.

In 2004, I carried the Olympic flame in Cairo, representing landmine victims worldwide. This was a very proud moment for me. A lot of progress has been made in recent years towards ending the landmine era – both in Afghanistan and around the world. But there is still a long way to go. Even if there are no new mine accidents, there is so much work to do looking after all the people who have already been affected."