IN THE LINE OF FIRE
MY LIFE IN A WAR ZONE
As bullets skittered past
my ears, I wondered for
the thousandth time why
I loved Afghanistan. Along
with British paras, we’d been ambushed
in Helmand and for the last two hours
had been heavily under fire, running
through ditches and dodging grenades.
Things had got so bad, the troops
were considering saving the last bullets
for themselves and I made a mental
note that if I ever made my way out of
there alive, back to my lovely husband
and young son, I’d never return.
That was two years ago, and exactly
two months after that attack, I ignored
my family’s disapproving stares and
returned to Afghanistan – the country
that captured my heart 20 years ago.
So am I mad? An adrenaline junkie?
No, but I do care deeply about my job
and feel a responsibility to tell
innocent peoples’ stories in the hope
we can make lasting changes.
I was horrified when I heard about
the death of the Sunday Mirror
correspondent Rupert Hamer. It brings
home just how dangerous it has
become reporting from Afghanistan.
Traditionally, travelling with the military
has been the safest way to report from
a region but the threat of roadside
bomb has changed that as they are
impossible to guard against.
FRIENDS�IN�HIGH�PLACES
I initially got into journalism on
a graduate trainee scheme and it was
while I was working as an intern for
the Financial Times that I became
fascinated by the idea of life as a
foreign correspondent. I’d see the
male reporters return from exotic
destinations and talk about their
adventures and I wanted to be one
of them. The tiny number of women
in the job didn’t really occur to me.
I just wanted to join them.
When I was 21, I was offered the
chance to interview Benazir Bhutto,
Pakistan’s first and only female Prime
Minister, and I jumped at the chance.
By the end of the interview, I had made
a friend for life. She was warm, chatty,
affectionate and would go on to be the
bravest woman I ever met.
Two months later, after accepting
a TV news traineeship in Birmingham,
����WWW�STYLIST�CO�UK
The Sunday Mirror’s defence correspondent, Rupert Hamer, was tragically
killed 10 days ago in Afghanistan. Here, foreign correspondent Christina
Lamb, 43, explains why she’s willing to risk her life
a thick gold envelope hit my doormat.
It was a wedding invitation from Benazir.
I’d never seen a card so thick, glossy
and opulent, and Karachi, where the
wedding was held, was much the same.
At the wedding I found myself
involved in lots of political discussions
about Pakistan’s future. I was hugely
inspired by Benazir’s dream of one day
seeing a democracy there and realised
that I didn’t want to return to my job.
After much pleading, the FT agreed
to let me work as a freelance foreign
correspondent in Peshawar. I was elated
and though at 21 I felt out of my depth
I was determined to succeed. So I
pitched up in Lahore with a case full of
books, wine gums and Chanel perfume.
Being a female correspondent was
a double-edged sword. It meant I had
greater access to the women in the
country as I posed no threat. However,
it was difficult running around war-torn
countries whilst on your period without
a ready supply of tampons.
But there’s been worse events
during the course of my career as a
foreign correspondent. I’ve survived a
CHRISTINA HAS SPENT THE
LAST 20 YEARS REPORTING
FROM WAR-TORN COUNTRIES
car crash in a gold-mining settlement in
the Amazon, sniper fire in Iraq, Soviet
tanks in Kandahar and a brick through
my windscreen on the West Bank. I’ve
also been deported twice after
criticising the Pakistani government.
And most difficult of all, I’ve had
“When I was ambushed
by the Taliban, I realised
I did not want to die in
a field in Afghanistan”
to juggle being a wife to Paulo, my
Portuguese husband, and mother
to our 10-year-old son, Lourenco.
Luckily Paulo is also a journalist, but
he works from home, and has always
been supportive of my work. When
Lourenco was born, I did think about
giving up my career. That lasted until
9/11. I looked at the reports from
Afghanistan, saw what was happening
to innocent people and knew I had to go
back. Of course I wanted to be with my
family, but I felt I owed it to the people
of Afghanistan to tell their stories.
Yes I feel guilt at leaving my child
but it’s not an option for me. When I’m
at home, I’m like any other working
mum. But in my bedroom is a readypacked
‘war bag’, which includes a flak
jacket, helmet, medical kit and satellite
phone. A few years ago I arrived back
from an assignment in Afghanistan on
the morning of my son’s seventh
birthday party and went straight into
making ham sandwiches for 20 kids.
THE�COST�OF�WAR
I did begin to question how badly my
work might be scarring Lourenco a few
years ago. I was aboard the same bus as
Benazir Bhutto when it was bombed in
Karachi in October 2007. Like me, she
was unhurt, but all around us was
carnage. What I hadn’t reckoned on was
Lourenco watching the news and turning
to his dad asking, ‘Will Mummy survive?’
When Paulo told me later, I felt awful.
But as a correspondent I’m always
surrounded by life and death. One
of the worst times was when I was in
Portugal and received a phone call
to tell me Benazir had been assassinated.
Returning home, the first thing I
opened was a Christmas card from
Benazir wishing me a peaceful new
year. I thought my heart would break.
I recently became US editor for The
Sunday Times and am now based in
Washington. My mum’s made no secret
of the fact she’s glad I’m out of
Afghanistan. Rupert Hamer was a
father of three young children and as
a mum myself I think there’s a very
difficult balance to weigh up. Although
I love my job and still think it’s very
important to report from the frontline
so people know what’s going on, when
I was ambushed by the Taliban in
Helmand I was conscious that I did not
want to die in a field in Afghanistan.
But I know I’ll return because despite
everything it’s still a hopeful place. I’ll
never forget a chat I once had with a taxi
driver in Pakistan. He asked, ‘Do you
know what Pakistan really needs?’ I
thought he was going to say something
profound but he said, ‘More discos.’
I wondered maybe if we did, the
world would be a better place.”
PHOTOGRAPHY��PAUL�HACKETT/EYEVINE
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