Abdul Jabbar wants to die. Squatting beside his wife's unconscious body, his 12 children and grandchildren huddled around him in a tiny, open tent of sticks and stitched sacks, the 65-year-old brushes away tears as he describes his prospects in the coming Afghan winter. Freezing rain and snow will cover the Dehdadi camp on the southern outskirts of Mazar-i-Sharif, home to 15,000 refugees. Temperatures will drop to 5[degrees]F, and the filthy roadside ditch from which the refugees fetch their gray fetid water will freeze.
Already the ground is too hard to dig graves. Instead, the bodies of those killed by...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
