Good News Story From: Syria - Reaching the Next Child First

A child should be able to walk through a field without having to understand war. 

He should be thinking about the animals he is tending, the weather, the journey home, or what his family will eat that evening. 

He should not have to wonder whether an unfamiliar object lying among the soil and stones might explode in his hands. 

But for many children in Syria, the war is not entirely over. It remains in the fields where they work. In the grazing land their families depend upon. Along the routes they travel every day. It lies silent, sometimes visible and sometimes hidden, waiting to be disturbed by someone who does not know what it is. 

Sixteen-year-old Omar* lives in a village, around eight kilometres southeast of Qamishli City. He works as a shepherd, helping to support a family whose livelihood, like that of many others in the village, depends upon agriculture and livestock. 

One day, while herding sheep on agricultural land outside the village, Omar found an unfamiliar object. He did not recognise it. He had never received Explosive Ordnance Risk Education (EORE) and had not been taught what to do when confronted with something suspicious.   

The object was later identified as an unexploded stun grenade. 

Believing it to be harmless, Omar gathered firewood, lit a fire and threw the object into the flames. The explosion and resulting fragments caused a serious injury to his hip area, close to his spinal cord. Urgent medical intervention was required, and the nature of the injury created the possibility of long-term consequences for his mobility and health. For Omar and his family, this wasn’t just an accident. It was a moment that changed their lives forever. 

There was the immediate physical injury, but also the fear, distress and uncertainty that follow a sudden and violent explosion. There was the emotional impact upon a child and his family. And there was the additional financial pressure placed upon a household already reliant upon daily labour and livestock herding. 

No honest account should try to turn that suffering into good news. But good news can be found in what happens next. Not because the past can be undone. It cannot. 

Not because every contaminated field has suddenly become safe. It has not. 

The good news is that communities such as Omar’s are now being reached. 

For years, many rural areas around Qamishli remained beyond the effective reach of humanitarian mine action. Agricultural land and grazing areas had been exposed to repeated military operations and shelling, yet access for specialist humanitarian organisations was limited. As a result, some communities went without the survey, clearance and risk education support that could help them understand and reduce the danger around them. 

That absence has consequences.  

Explosive ordnance doesn’t need to be sophisticated to destroy a life. It only needs to remain in the wrong place, unnoticed or misunderstood, until someone approaches it. And knowledge does not need to be complicated to save a life. 

Do not touch it.

Do not move it.

Do not approach it. 

Warn others. 

Report it. 

Five simple actions. But they must reach the right person before the object does. 

With support from the French Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs and the Slovenian Ministry of Foreign and European Affairs, ITF’s local partner, NGO Reachout, has expanded its humanitarian mine action activities into rural communities surrounding Qamishli, including Omar’s Village. 

That expansion is significant because it takes the work to where the risk actually exists. 

Non-Technical Survey teams have been gathering information from local communities, examining previous incidents and considering how people use the land. They have focused particularly on agricultural areas, grazing land and frequently used access routes - the places where civilians, especially children, farmers and shepherds, are most likely to encounter explosive hazards. 

This work helps turn local knowledge into practical action: A shepherd may know where an unusual object was seen. A farmer may know which part of a field has been avoided. A family may remember where shelling occurred. A community may know which routes children use, which land is essential for grazing, and which areas people enter because poverty leaves them with no realistic alternative. 

That information matters because communities are not passive recipients of mine action. They are often the first to see the danger, the first to understand its effect and the first to know which areas matter most. And the work of Reachout’s NTS and EORE teams helps ensure that their knowledge is heard. 

Based on the findings, high-priority hazardous areas presenting a direct threat to civilians have been identified, and clearance and explosive ordnance disposal activities have been conducted in some of the most dangerous locations. 

At the same time, Reachout’s EORE teams have been working directly with children, shepherds and families in affected rural communities – and the importance of that work is difficult to overstate. A child does not need to know the technical designation of an item. They don’t need to identify its country of manufacture, its explosive content or the conflict in which it was used. They only need to recognise that something unfamiliar may be dangerous. They need to know that curiosity must stop at a safe distance. They need to know that walking away is not cowardice. It is wisdom. It is survival. And sometimes, it is the difference between an ordinary day and a life-changing injury. 

This is why EORE is not simply an awareness activity. The photograph accompanying Omar’s story shows an EORE team member sitting down with a young boy. There is nothing dramatic about the image. No explosion. No specialist equipment. No vast clearance site. Just two people sitting together and sharing information. 

But that quiet exchange represents something profoundly important. It represents knowledge moving into a place where knowledge was previously absent. It represents a warning being given before another object is found. It represents humanitarian access becoming human protection. 

In our work, it is easy to focus upon the visible achievements. But some of the most important outcomes may never be visible: The accidents that do not occur; the child who sees something and leaves it untouched; the farmer who marks an area, reports it, and warns others not to approach; the family that returns home safely because somebody, somewhere, took the time to explain what danger looks like. 

There may be no incident report, no medical evacuation and no photograph. 

There will simply be an ordinary day that remains ordinary. But that is the outcome we are working towards. 

Omar’s story is painful because it shows what can happen when a child encounters explosive ordnance before he encounters the information that could protect him. But the response in his village and the surrounding communities offers genuine cause for hope – and people who had previously received too little support are now being given practical knowledge that can help them protect themselves and one another. 

This does not erase what happened to Omar. It does, however, give his story meaning beyond the day of the explosion. It reminds us that humanitarian mine action must go beyond reacting to tragedy. And it must reach outward, into overlooked villages and isolated communities, before the next accident occurs - because the real success of this work is not found in how well we respond after a child is injured. 

It is found in reaching the next child first. 

*Names changed for security reasons.   

ITF expresses its appreciation to the French Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs and Slovenian Ministry for Foreign and European Affairs for their support and to all partners and donors whose cooperation enables this work.