One month after the rebels chopped off both of Abubakr Kargbo’s hands with an axe, his son was born. ”I gave him my name,” said the father of four, gesturing towards the young Abubakr with a stump. ”I did not expect to live and I wanted my name to carry on.”
Seven years later, the family lives in a small three-room house about half an hour outside the Sierra Leonean capital, Freetown.
A sign explains foreign donors built their village, Grafton, as a resettlement project for ”amputees and war-wounded”.
All of the families here bear some mark of the decade-long civil war that only ended after international peacekeepers intervened in 2002.
Kargbo’s neighbour, Sahr Tarallie, is missing a leg after being hit by a grenade fragment. James Kpumgbo had one hand amputated.
Isatu Jalloh, then 10 years old, was raped and the rebels tried to cut off her leg. She’ll wear long skirts for the rest of her life. ”The different militias had different signatures‚” explained Kargbo matter-of-factly.
Last week, the man they hold most responsible for their injuries was arrested.
The former president of Liberia, Charles Taylor, had been extradited from his luxurious exile in Nigeria and flown to Sierra Leone in handcuffs, where a United Nations-backed special court had indicted him on 11 counts of crimes against humanity.
”We are so happy for justice,” said Kargbo, his son standing by his side.
”As long as I have my kids, I still have hope for the future — but Charles Taylor is a wicked man.”
The court has charged members of all three warring factions. A mix of international and Sierra Leonean legal experts issued the indictments in 2003, just before Taylor left his own country for Nigeria as part of a peace deal that ended Liberia’s 14-year civil war.
The charges he currently faces relate to the civil war in Sierra Leone, rather than his native Liberia.
During his first court appearance on Monday, the suited, clean-shaven Taylor was a long way from the dishevelled figure that Sierra Leoneans stood on their roofs to jeer as his helicopter landed.
Many had feared he would escape justice after he went missing last week. The former president was recaptured at a border crossing within a day, sackfulls of cash in the back of his SUV.
”Most definitely I am not guilty,” he told the judge defiantly, after ignoring him for several seconds and then questioning the jurisdiction of the court.
But no one in Grafton village doubts that Taylor provided funds, training and equipment to the Revolutionary United Front, the rebel group who mutilated them as they fought for the country’s rich diamond fields.
They are delighted to see him in the dock. ”Let him know the bitterness of war,” said James Kpumgbo.
He cannot afford either a radio or newspapers, but has been following the trials by word of mouth when he goes into town to beg.
Despite promises to keep Sierra Leoneans well-informed, Kpumgbo opposes moves to relocate the trial to The Hague for security reasons.
”Let Charles Taylor stay here,” he insisted, resting on a cracked wooden bench. ”We want to see justice.”
The court’s chief prosecutor, Desmond de Silva QC, is hoping that the trial will serve as a warning to other repressive heads of state.
”The lesson is going out. Impunity is giving way to accountability,” he said. Although some cases were brought after the Rwandan genocide of 1994, Taylor is the first African head of state to appear before the international justice system.
But justice does not fill the stomach, says Sahr Tarallie. ”Feeding is a big problem for us here and the well has run dry.” He cannot walk to the nearest source of water, nearly about 3km away, on his crutches, so one of his four children must fetch it for him.
The amputees were moved out of Freetown this year to make space for a new market, but all of them say there has been no assistance from the government.
It is particularly galling when each demobilised fighter received hundreds of dollars, a retraining programme and starter packs to make a new life.
”They could address the issues of the ex-combatants but there is nothing for us,” said Tarallie.
Saffie Koroma, an activist with the National Accountability Group, said Tarallie’s complaints show the futility of trying to bring justice without good governance.
”It’s not possible just to have the special court to bring justice to the country. We have to look at the causes of the war, like corruption and mismanagement,” she said.
Her office is in darkness; four years after the war has finished, most areas in the capital still only receive a few hours of power a month. Uncollected skips piled with fetid refuse dot the street corners.
The lack of infrastructure has deterred business from investing in a country ranked the 12th-most corrupt in the world. Few expect next year’s elections to make much difference.
”People were dancing in the streets when they brought Charles Taylor in,” says Koroma.
”It’s a good start, but you cannot address these issues in isolation. People need jobs, food, shelter. If we continue to suffer like this, if leaders continue to give empty promises, maybe we will have another war.”