Here you can read the English transcripts of the wounded children's stories which are featured in Children of Conflict

Shamsha's story
'After an attack, I went out to look for my father who was missing, I didn't know if he was dead or alive. As I was walking to the town, a bomb exploded. My younger brother had already gone missing and my mother had been missing for four months. I was put in the hospital, where I have been a patient for about 6 months.'

I would like my arms and hands to be mended. I am in great agony and a terrible situation. I don't have hands. I can't eat my food, I have to be fed by someone else. I would like to see my hands working. I want peace and the war to be stopped. I want to go to school and get an education. If the hospitals were working I would like my hands to be treated. If it was up to me, I would say that no child of my age should ever lose his hands. I would like to say to the militia, look what you have done, you have destroyed my hands. Please don't continue to blow off children's hands. Please stop the fighting.'

Zmaray's story
'On our way back to home, one of my friends asked me to fetch a can that was on the other side of the bar around the Russian station.When I climbed over the bar to pick it up there was a big explosion. I was injured and lying on the ground when I realized that a bomb had exploded. The other boys ran away and at that momnet one of the Russian men came to help me. They took me to the military hospital and kept me there for three or four days. Just one person was allowed to visit me in hospital. I wanted to see my mother, but my mother didn't want to come to the Russian hospital. So I left the hospital.

I went to Peshawar, but it was very hard as I had lost one leg and my other leg was injured in many places as well. The day after I got to the hospital in Peshawar, an Arab doctor saw me. When he saw the Russian bandage on my leg, which was already smelling, he refused to examine me because he thought I was a communist. My brother Abid asked the doctor to check my leg, but he didn't want to examine me. At this time a German doctor appeared and he understod the situation. He told the Arabian doctor to check me and he took responsibility for me and I was allowed to stay at the hospital. I spent three months there and I was operated on.'

Ruslan Maisigov, journalist working in Chechnya
I was in the casualty department in one of the hospitals. Some people were laying in the corridors, some were in the basements. About a third of all patients were children, most of them with amputations. One 14 year old boy from Sharoi had both of his legs amputated. His mother told me that kids were playing football at a local field. There were no war activities in the areas, but the field went under tank fire from Russian army. Eight kids were killed, others were wounded. Sometimes they are brouhgt into [neighbouring] Ingushetia, but have to wait for several hours or sometimes days at army checkpoints. I also saw a 14 year old girl from Grozny. She was brought from the main city market after a rocket attack. She got her right arm amputated. 'There was nothing doctors could do with it' she said.

Vanja, 11, Serbia, speaking after NATO bombardment of Belgrade.
'I am 11 years old. I think this is very sad and terrible. I would like to live normal, in peace. I would like to spend my childhood in love and at least not in a basement. I am really sorry for what is happening to the Albanian children. But my father never had a gun and did not want independence or any other Kosovo. Americans are the ones who want something and must put the gasline in the fire. OK Americans tell us, how many of us should die so you can feel happy?'

Nadya, 18, Belgrade, Yugoslavia
'World, PLEASE don't be blind! Nato is not bombing Milosevic! Nato is bombing PEOPLE of Yugoslavia! Can't you see that it is nothing but hypocrisy saying that bombs are falling to create peace?! World, do you know that we are almost day and night in bomb shelters, that our schools and hospitals are damaged, even our, CHRISTIAN, holy land-monastery of Grachanica (which is on Kosovo)? World, where are children and civil rights? I'm 18, do you know how I feel? I can hear alarm for air attack right now! WORLD, CAN'T YOU HEAR IT?!"

Dusan, Yugoslavia
I am student from Yugoslavia. There are bombs all over our heads. Is this really world's hypocrisy or what? We want to live in peace, to have normal life as every human being deserves. This is maybe my last chance to contact you. I am writing you from Novi Sad, capital of Vojvodina where we lived together with people in multicultural community. So please leave us alone. Please, please STOP your bombs. IT IS NOT OUR FAULT. WE ARE NOT SLOBODAN MILOSEVIC.

A more extensive selection of emails on the Kosovo crisis can be read at Talking Point.

Qalam's story
'My name is Qalam. My one leg has been amputated . I was near a military camp and I was having a walk with my friends and hit a mine . At that time I was 15 years old .
I just went for a walk, my leg blew up in the mine explosion. I had not informed my family that I was going with my friends. May be it was all in my fate. Perhaps that was my luck.'

Fawad's story
'My mother was suckling my baby brother, who had been born two days ago, when a rocket hit our house, as a result of which the baby was killed and my mother injured. She was taken to the hospital and as there was a barrage of rockets nobody could dare to help us bury the baby. So my father buried him alone. Then my younger sister was affected by diphtheria and oxygen was not available in the hospital. My father got oxygen from another hospital and carried the container to the 18th floor. Doing so he hurt his back. But at this moment the hospital came under rocket attack and doctors refused to give the oxygen to my sister. She died and it was a horrible experience for us. Every night when I remember that scene I cry.'

Sonia, Nazifa, Horia, Nazanin, Khatera, Fareshta and Samira sing this song
'Always there be the sky
Always there be the sun
Always there be mother
Always there be me

The country of free people
And the land of champions
Afghanistan, Afghanistan

We Uzbeks, we Hazaras, Pashtus and Tajiks
All the fruits of the same tree
The flowers of the same garden
Afghanistan, Afghanistan
Fly beautiful pigeon
Bring the news of those savages' atrocities from Kabul'

Faiqa Jawad Mahajer's poem
'Where are you my beloved Spring?
Come back to my land
You are like a flying bird
Separated from my destiny

You are tired, you are sad as I am
Where are you my beloved Spring?
Come back to my land
If you do not come to my home this year
I swear to God that all four seasons will remain as Winter
Why grass and flowers do not grow in the field of my heart?
Spring is tired, Spring is sad as I am
Spring is covered by snow as I am
Where are you my beloved Spring?
Come back to my land'