Reason for living: Ek Leng with his wife, Kan Vy, whose love has enabled him to keep going. Monday December 3, 2007
The Star (Malaysia)
A stone’s throw from the Kampung Speu physical rehabilitation centre is the home of former mine victim Ek Leng.
An ex-Khmer Rouge soldier, Ek Leng was involved in a battle against the Vietnamese army before stepping on a mine in 1982 at Battambang province.
He lost both his legs (upper limbs included) in that incident.
“When I regained consciousness, I realised I was already in hospital. I thought I would die soon but it didn’t happen,” said the 50-year-old.
And in Ek’s case, love transformed everything. Love gave him a new lease of life and showed him that there were things he could look forward to every day.
“My wife helped me see life in a new light,” Ek admitted unabashedly. “Despite my disability, she never gave up on me.
“I was touched by the girl who loved me for who I was, and we got married in 1985, three years after I had my legs amputated.”
Ek met his wife, Kan Vy, when she was hired to cook for the soldiers. Both of them had a lot in common since they came from the same town.
Love was indeed in the air in his wooden home built on stilts, where Ek has heart symbols glued onto a frame holding the couple’s wedding photograph, and on his modified tricycle, which is his mode of transportation nowadays.
He has also become a coach for a wheelchair race team which he leads in an annual national competition in Phnom Penh.
Sport has become therapy for him and many of his friends, too, as it helps keep them occupied and prevents their minds from wallowing in the past.
He rears chicken on the spacious grounds of his home, and had been invited by the community on numerous occasions to give motivational talks to other disabled persons.
“I earn about US$45 (RM152) as a coach, and receive a government allowance of US$25 (RM84).
“My biggest achievement is having a job, compared to others who are not so lucky.
“I also buy young calves and sell them at a higher market price once they have become adults. Cows are assets to Cambodians.
“All this money helps fund my three children’s education in university,” said the cheerful Ek.
Continuing our journey three hours northwest towards the province of Pursat to meet another victim, we rolled pass verdant fields, simple thatched shacks built of wood or palm leaves, the many pagodas with their spiral architecture, people thronging wet markets and food stalls, and long stretches of undeveloped land.
Our taxi driver Pen Sophat seemed bent on using the horn to ward off motorcyclists who veered dangerously in the middle of the two-lane road, or cars heading for us in the opposite direction as they attempted to overtake.
But using their horns is second nature for drivers in Cambodia. And the daredevils that they are, they only slam on the brakes when they are inches away from the vehicle in front!
Turning off the main road, the route leading to the home of Heng Sophal was a rough and bumpy one, with deep potholes and puddles of water.
His shack, made of dried palm leaves, was a small cubicle where his family sleeps and cooks in. Heng makes a living climbing palm trees to tap and extract their fresh sap, which is then cooked into a sticky sugary pulp for sale.
The gaps in his home are no protection against the rain, so when it pours, the whole family shift their sleeping positions to another corner of the hut.
The place was pervaded by poverty, yet Heng did not once indulge in self-pity. He happily regaled us with adventures of his everyday job, and demonstrated to us how he would climb a tree, using a thin long tree trunk with protruding stumps as his ladder and his prosthesis from the ICRC.
“I stepped on a mine when I was 14 while looking for my buffalo near the mountains.
My leg had to be amputated below the knee.
“Most of the time, I rely a lot on my hands for strength. We need to be independent and earn our own income because no one can help us if we don’t,” said the 28-year-old.
Heng earns about RM5 a day from the palm sugar, which his 23-year-old wife has to diligently stir while it boils in a wok, and harvests his own rice that yields about 500kg a year, which is sufficient for his family’s consumption.
The government, he said, has also implemented a programme to help poor villagers earn a living through a buffalo adoption scheme.
“Poor families get an adult female buffalo so that it can give birth, and when the baby is old enough to work, the government will take back the adult female so we can still use the baby to make a living.”
And with that, Heng gathered his two young children and wife to pose for a family photo, before sending us off with true hospitality and a broad smile.
He may be poor, lives a life that is most basic, and has to deal with the unfortunate fate of a mine victim, but Heng’s optimism reminded us that it is important not to despair or give up hope even in the most trying times because life has to go on.
An ex-Khmer Rouge soldier, Ek Leng was involved in a battle against the Vietnamese army before stepping on a mine in 1982 at Battambang province.
He lost both his legs (upper limbs included) in that incident.
“When I regained consciousness, I realised I was already in hospital. I thought I would die soon but it didn’t happen,” said the 50-year-old.
And in Ek’s case, love transformed everything. Love gave him a new lease of life and showed him that there were things he could look forward to every day.
“My wife helped me see life in a new light,” Ek admitted unabashedly. “Despite my disability, she never gave up on me.
“I was touched by the girl who loved me for who I was, and we got married in 1985, three years after I had my legs amputated.”
Ek met his wife, Kan Vy, when she was hired to cook for the soldiers. Both of them had a lot in common since they came from the same town.
Love was indeed in the air in his wooden home built on stilts, where Ek has heart symbols glued onto a frame holding the couple’s wedding photograph, and on his modified tricycle, which is his mode of transportation nowadays.
He has also become a coach for a wheelchair race team which he leads in an annual national competition in Phnom Penh.
Sport has become therapy for him and many of his friends, too, as it helps keep them occupied and prevents their minds from wallowing in the past.
He rears chicken on the spacious grounds of his home, and had been invited by the community on numerous occasions to give motivational talks to other disabled persons.
“I earn about US$45 (RM152) as a coach, and receive a government allowance of US$25 (RM84).
“My biggest achievement is having a job, compared to others who are not so lucky.
“I also buy young calves and sell them at a higher market price once they have become adults. Cows are assets to Cambodians.
“All this money helps fund my three children’s education in university,” said the cheerful Ek.
Continuing our journey three hours northwest towards the province of Pursat to meet another victim, we rolled pass verdant fields, simple thatched shacks built of wood or palm leaves, the many pagodas with their spiral architecture, people thronging wet markets and food stalls, and long stretches of undeveloped land.
Our taxi driver Pen Sophat seemed bent on using the horn to ward off motorcyclists who veered dangerously in the middle of the two-lane road, or cars heading for us in the opposite direction as they attempted to overtake.
But using their horns is second nature for drivers in Cambodia. And the daredevils that they are, they only slam on the brakes when they are inches away from the vehicle in front!
Turning off the main road, the route leading to the home of Heng Sophal was a rough and bumpy one, with deep potholes and puddles of water.
His shack, made of dried palm leaves, was a small cubicle where his family sleeps and cooks in. Heng makes a living climbing palm trees to tap and extract their fresh sap, which is then cooked into a sticky sugary pulp for sale.
The gaps in his home are no protection against the rain, so when it pours, the whole family shift their sleeping positions to another corner of the hut.
The place was pervaded by poverty, yet Heng did not once indulge in self-pity. He happily regaled us with adventures of his everyday job, and demonstrated to us how he would climb a tree, using a thin long tree trunk with protruding stumps as his ladder and his prosthesis from the ICRC.
“I stepped on a mine when I was 14 while looking for my buffalo near the mountains.
My leg had to be amputated below the knee.
“Most of the time, I rely a lot on my hands for strength. We need to be independent and earn our own income because no one can help us if we don’t,” said the 28-year-old.
Heng earns about RM5 a day from the palm sugar, which his 23-year-old wife has to diligently stir while it boils in a wok, and harvests his own rice that yields about 500kg a year, which is sufficient for his family’s consumption.
The government, he said, has also implemented a programme to help poor villagers earn a living through a buffalo adoption scheme.
“Poor families get an adult female buffalo so that it can give birth, and when the baby is old enough to work, the government will take back the adult female so we can still use the baby to make a living.”
And with that, Heng gathered his two young children and wife to pose for a family photo, before sending us off with true hospitality and a broad smile.
He may be poor, lives a life that is most basic, and has to deal with the unfortunate fate of a mine victim, but Heng’s optimism reminded us that it is important not to despair or give up hope even in the most trying times because life has to go on.
1 comment:
I don't fully understand the gadget in the picture. How does he pedal with his hand and stir the bike around corner? and what is with the hardhat? Is he moving fast?
It cheaper to use a regular wheelchair. This look like some type of scam.
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