A Mother’s Strength in the Face of War
Tem was 36 years old when she stepped on a landmine while walking to the market with her baby son in her arms. It was 1983, and although the Khmer Rouge regime had officially fallen, fighting continued between Khmer Rouge and Vietnamese forces. Her village remained a conflict zone.
The explosion cost her a leg, and with it, her ability to farm as she once had. Despite limited mobility and no prosthetic, Tem continued to work in the fields to support her family. Today, she lives with her husband in her brother’s house, still bearing the physical and emotional scars of war. Her story is a reminder that while the bombs may have stopped falling, the suffering caused by landmines continues.
Tem’s Story
In her own words, Tem shares her story of survival and perseverance.
“My name is Tem. I am 78 years old, and I’ve been married for 52 years. We have five children, all grown and married now, and more than ten grandchildren. Most of them live and work in Thailand, mainly in rice fields, so we rarely get to see them.
Today, I live with my husband at my brother’s house. We don’t have a home of our own. Neither of us is employed. He does small jobs just to make ends meet, and we receive occasional support from our children, but their work is seasonal and unpredictable. Life is difficult. I wish I could do more, but with my disability, it’s nearly impossible.
Before the accident, we had two hectares of farmland. I used to work in the fields and helped support my family. My husband has always been a farmer too. During the war, I continued working, but it was a harsh time. Much of what we grew was taken as supplies for Khmer Rouge soldiers. We survived mostly on porridge, bananas, and sometimes a single cup of soup. We were weak and hungry. I still feel like crying when I think about those years.
Our area was heavily mined. In my village alone, I know several people who lost limbs. Two women were injured before me, one near a school, and the other on the same road where I stepped on a landmine. One of them is my sister-in-law. I was there when it happened.
I was 36 years old when I lost my leg in 1983. The war between Khmer Rouge and Vietnamese forces was ongoing, and our village was caught in the middle. The Khmer Rouge had a base here, which made the area a target. Landmines were planted everywhere, especially along the roads, to restrict enemy movement.
That day, I was walking with my sister on the road leading to the market, the same one where my sister-in-law had her accident. I was carrying my third son, who was only one year old. We knew the road might be mined. We had heard they may have laid mines the night before, but we had no choice. We needed supplies.
We saw some bicycles ahead of us, so I tried to walk exactly along the track left by their wheels, hoping it would be safe. But a bit of rain had fallen, and I lost the trail. That’s when I stepped on the landmine.
My first thought was to protect my child. I didn’t faint. I couldn’t. I was too focused on shielding him. He was unharmed, but terrified. My sister and the others with us rushed to help. There was no hospital nearby, and it was already 3 p.m., too late and too dangerous to travel. They kept me in the village overnight, and some Vietnamese soldiers came to stop the bleeding. The pain was unbearable, and I truly feared I would die.
The next morning, at 8 a.m., a truck finally arrived to take me to the hospital.
Because of how high the amputation was, I couldn’t use a prosthetic. There’s nowhere to properly attach it, and the joint wouldn’t be able to bend, making walking nearly impossible. I had to learn to use walking sticks instead. I received support from my family and neighbors, but day to day life remained hard.
Even after the injury, I continued to help in the fields, pulling grass and planting seeds using my hands. The farm is only about a kilometer away, but reaching it with one leg was a challenge. Still, I was young and determined.
Today, my village is finally free from landmines. I’m deeply grateful to all the organizations and individuals who make that possible. I know that across Cambodia, people are still getting injured because of landmines, even though the war ended long ago.
I hope all the remaining landmines are removed, not just here, but everywhere, so that no one else has to suffer what I did. I want a safe future for my children and grandchildren.”