Where Landmines Once Lay, Life Grows Again

In Cambodia’s Chheu Slab village, Ouk and his community are reclaiming their land and their future.

For decades, the village of Chheu Slab in Cambodia lived in the shadow of war. Hidden beneath the surface of its fields and roads lay deadly remnants of conflict—landmines, anti-tank explosives, and unexploded ordnance. These silent threats turned everyday acts—walking to school, farming the land, fetching water—into life-threatening risks.

For Ouk Noeurm, a 58-year-old farmer and father of six, this danger was deeply personal. “Before HALO arrived, my fields were a graveyard of hidden dangers,” Ouk remembers. “Every step I took felt like a dance with death.”

Like many families in Chheu Slab, Ouk’s family had worked this land for generations. But their dreams of building a better life were stifled by fear. The land, rich and fertile, could not be cultivated safely. They were trapped—unable to grow enough food, unable to move freely, and unable to plan for the future.

“We were living in a cycle of fear and poverty,” Ouk says. “We couldn’t farm beyond a small area. Our children couldn’t play freely. We couldn’t even walk to the pond or down certain roads.”

The turning point came when HALO began demining operations in Chheu Slab in 2002. Over the years, HALO’s team cleared more than 940 explosive hazards from the village. But the true impact of this work wasn’t measured in numbers. It was measured in lives changed.

“Once the mines were cleared, everything changed,” Ouk says. “I could finally expand my rice fields from a small plot to 6 or 7 hectares.”

With newfound safety, Ouk began cultivating not just rice but also cassava. He hired 20 to 30 local workers to help with the harvest and transport—providing jobs and breathing life back into the local economy. He even began renting out his tractor to neighbors, creating additional income for his family.

“This is more than just farming,” he says. “It’s about hope and opportunity.”
The transformation extended beyond the fields. New shops and small businesses sprang up. Children returned to school. Families rebuilt homes—this time, made to last.

In Ouk’s words: “We never imagined we could build a comfortable life after all we’ve been through.” For Ouk’s sister, the change was emotional. Their father had lost his leg—and later his life—because of a landmine. “We avoided the roads and the pond for years,” she recalls. “The fear was always there.”

Today, that fear has been replaced by resilience, community, and hope. “This land was once a battlefield,” Ouk says. “Now, it is a place of growth, safety, and community. We owe so much to HALO for restoring our hope.”

Ouk’s story is a powerful reminder of what’s possible when safety returns to places long haunted by war. In Chheu Slab, the ground beneath their feet is no longer feared—it’s farmed, walked on, and lived upon. A place where futures are planted, and families can flourish once more.