The morning after: Kabul tries to go about its business

AMIR SHAH, Associated Press Writer Sunday, October 7, 2001 Breaking News Sections

(10-07) 22:59 PDT KABUL, Afghanistan (AP) --

Hours after U.S. military strikes, Kabul's markets opened as usual Monday morning and things appeared largely normal around the city as residents emerged from their homes to survey the effects of the attack.

On a crisp, cloudless morning, a spot check of four hospitals turned up no evidence of casualties. Kabul's airport compound, however, was closed.

Many shaken residents were trying to make sense of the attacks, which the United States said were designed to cripple the ruling Taliban's air defenses while an international coalition hunts down top terrorist suspect Osama bin Laden.

"Both sides are strong. America is not afraid, and Osama is not afraid," said Fida Mohammed, a bus driver who lives near the airport. He has moved to his brother's house at the other end of the city.

"This fighting may be long," he said. "American people are eating chicken, and all we want is a piece of bread -- and still we are in trouble."

Mohammed Jalil, who lives in Kabul's northwest section, said the first bomb was dropped there.

"We don't know what is happening in this country," said Jalil, a waiter who looks after an entire extended family, including his sister-in-law, whose husband was killed when the Soviets invaded in 1979. "Now we are afraid we will make another sacrifice, this time by American rockets."

His 12-year-old son, Hamid, said 20 pieces of shrapnel shattered the windows of their house. "All the night, we were in the basement with our neighbors," Hamid said.

Over the loudspeaker of the Wazir Akbar Khan Mosque, a cleric scorned leaders of other Islamic countries, saying they have forsaken Afghanistan.

"The leaders of the Islamic countries have forgotten their duty to help other Muslims," he said.

Some families were on the move, especially those living near the airport or other targets. Some said they were going to the countryside, some to the homes of friends or family in other parts of Kabul.

Mirza Mohammed was preparing to leave with his four children for Logar province in the central part of Afghanistan.

"We were very afraid. We didn't sleep," said Mohammed, who lives near the airport on the northern edge of Kabul. "I haven't seen Osama bin Laden in my life. I don't understand why the people of Afghanistan are such unlucky people."

Jan Mohammed, 45, who drives a donkey cart filled with tomatoes, worried about the future.

"What if a bomb falls on our house? We will be killed," he said. "My children, everybody hid in the basement last night. Where are the poor people of Afghanistan supposed to go? I can't go anywhere. All I have is what I grow."

Denizens of the Afghan capital -- its buildings and its 1 million people alike -- grew accustomed to war long ago. So there was little sign of panic when the attacks began Sunday night, a half hour before a Taliban-imposed curfew.

The lights of the city quickly went dark. In a once-posh neighborhood where many Taliban leaders live, bearded soldiers piled into the backs of pickup trucks. They roared through the streets in the first minutes, beginning a swift security crackdown, screaming at drivers to halt and demanding to see identity papers.

The city calmed down after an hour or so. With the curfew in place, electricity returned. By midnight, lights glowed in homes across Kabul; people were still up. But there was one more event to process: Early Monday, a lone aircraft dropped one bomb in the northern edge of Kabul.

Then the city went dark again.

-- Anonymous, October 08, 2001