Georgina Newman: The deadly legacy of cluster bombs

Three young children lie in Jabal Amel Hospital in Tyre, their bodies punctured by shrapnel. They are among the first victims of the ceasefire and Unicef fears many more children will die as the ceasefire continues.

Following the conflict in Lebanon is a carpet of unexploded cluster bombs. Within a week of the ceasefire four people were dead, two of them children, and scores more were horribly injured.

Children are particularly vulnerable to unexploded cluster bombs, which are about the size and shape of a drink can. Nestled inside each canister are about 80 bomblets, each with enough force to rip an adult's leg off or to slay a child.

Children who have been cooped up in dank basements or crowded schools for weeks sheltering from the bombardment are desperate to play and run around in a playground of crumpled concrete and twisted metal.

The bombs among the detritus of war make homes and villages deadly battlefields.

Speaking from Lebanon, Unicef emergency manager Dan Toole said: "Children are more vulnerable to the danger because they are attracted to things and pick them up.

"They know less and they are more compact than adults and closer to the ground - so any explosion impacts on them more greatly."

The three children fighting for life in Jabal Amel Hospital thought the bomb they picked up outside their home was a toy.

Towards the end of the 34-day war, thousands of explosives were being dropped each day on to southern Lebanon.

An alarming characteristic of the cluster bomb is its high failure rate, poising a lethal threat for months and even years to come.

"In normal warfare 10 per cent of munitions do not explode when they hit the ground," said Mr Toole. "What we don't know in Lebanon is 10 per cent of how many, although it's an enormous number. We have confirmation of cluster bombs in many sites."

In war zones the cluster bomb is a particularly potent weapon. It is designed to release small bomblets in midair, showering across a wide radius, allowing far greater explosion coverage than a single artillery shell.

Such bombs are not prohibited by the Geneva Convention but aid agencies have long campaigned for them to be withdrawn because of the high failure rate and their wide, indiscriminate dispersal pattern.

Many now lie dormant in schools, hospitals and homes. It has become a humanitarian nightmare.

Unicef child protection adviser Trish Hiddleston and her team have been issuing awareness leaflets at border crossings for people flooding out of neighbouring Syria and advising families of the danger.

"People are leaving in droves, in private cars, on buses and on foot with a mixture of relief and concern about what awaits them," she says.

"They don't know whether their homes and villages will still be standing when they get there, but one thing is certain - they face a serious threat from unexploded bombs in their communities.

"What we have done to try to prevent further injury and death is raise awareness by distributing leaflets that explain the danger, that tell people not to touch and give a number for the National De-mining Office, who will come and deal with the object," she says.

Many have returned to scenes of devastation. UN mine clearance teams have been dispatched across southern Lebanon, but it's a painstaking and dangerous job which is estimated to take at least a year, providing the peace agreement holds.

For children the trauma of war has been especially taxing. Aid agencies have reported high rates of psychological trauma displayed by overtly aggressive behaviour, shaking, children becoming mute, bed-wetting and nightmares.

Many now return home to the grisly sight of decaying bodies in the bombed-out ruins of their homes.

It is vital to get children back into school in time for the next academic term, which begins next month.

The distraction and routine of education is important for re-establishing children's mental wellbeing. But many schools have been damaged, are littered with bombs or are in a poor condition after housing thousands of refugees.

"I'm returning to my country," says Mohammad Aifour, a young boy from Bekaa, as he waits with his family at the Syria-Lebanon border checkpoint of Jdaidet Yabouz.

"I will see my village and find out if any of my friends and neighbours were killed, as well as other loved ones, and whether anything happened to my school."

* Georgina Newman is communications manager for Unicef NZ.