Poa Thida, 16 years old, became an amputee when she was 8. A USAID-funded rehabilitation cneter in Kien Khleange, Cambodia has provided her with a prosthetic leg. Source: Noah Hendler

“My family and I were on our way to a refugee camp in Thailand. It was a dark night. Some men tried to rob us. They held us at gunpoint and tried to take all of our possessions. My borther and I were afraid of these men. We held hands and ran as fast as we could into the forest. This is when I stepped on the mine and was through from my brother's hand. He kept running. He was too scared to stop.”

Poa's mother, Thac Thgi Trang, interjects: “Her body was thrown on top of a dead tree, which was good because otherwise she would have landed on sharp pieces of the mine. It was dark, and I was very confused. The explosion came from behind us, so I thought it was fighting. This was 1990. There wa a lot of fighting then. A soldier came toward me and told me to count my children. I counted only six—Poa was missing. I told the soldier that my daughter was missing, and he said that she may have stepped on a landmine. I begged him to help me find Poa. I told him that even if she is dead, I want her body.

Without torches the soldiers couldn't find her that night. The first time they went to look for her, they only found some of her blood. When they did finally find Poa, it was only because they heard her moaning. This was five o'clock in the morning, three hours after the explosion.”

Poa continues: “I woke up, being carried to the hospital; I was in pain but didn't know my leg was missing. In the hospital I was very emotional and cried. I had no hope, but the nurses kept telling me to live. One nurse even took me on walks and told me jokes. I remember laughing for the first time since my accident.

When my family returned to Phnom Penh, I felt ashamed because there weren't as many disabled people here as there had been in the refugee camp. My first time at school was difficult—everyone looked down on me. They thought that all disabled people were like beggars—yelling and screaming and wearing torn clothes. But, when I explained that I stepped on a landmine, they took pity on me. Now my friends know that I am a normal person. Whatever they can do, I can do too. I realized this on my own.”