I just left Afghanistan after three and a half months. I have been covering the news there since the so-called "War on Terror" began in 2001 and now it has become a book project as well.

When I originally came up with a title for the book project it was called "A Fragile Peace." Now, given the deteriorating state of affairs in the country, I am definitely taking the word "peace" out – possibly replacing it with "war."

One of the many stories I did was on the war wounded. The timing was important; a recent U.N. report described 2009 as the deadliest year in terms of civilian casualties in Afghanistan since the start of the U.S.-led war against the Taliban in the country. While Gen. Stanley McChrystal, the top U.S. commander, emphasized the need for winning the hearts and minds of the Afghans, so many are suffering horrific injury. I did my coverage at two hospitals and the ICRC in Kabul. There was no way to get to the real situations after they happened; it's just way too dangerous. As frustrating as the lack of access can be, it is a fact of life now for doing news coverage in many parts of the country without embedding.

In Kandahar, at the Mirwais Hospital, I met so many of the war wounded. Although Afghans are used to war and suffering, it's the women who are hit the hardest and they affected me the most. The reason is simple: the majority of Afghan females maintain a classic subordinate position in Afghan society where conservative Islamic laws and traditions dictate what is allowed in a male-dominated world. There was Asan Bibi, 9, an ethnic Kuchi who was badly burned along with her sister when a mortar hit their tent in the middle of the night. Then there was little Attiullah, 7, who was shot through his chest while he was in the fields near his home walking the sheep. When I met Jamalo at the ICRC orthopedic clinic in Kabul, I really felt at a loss how to help this beautiful young girl. Jamalo is now a paraplegic, crippled after her home became a battlefield during a violent attack between the Taliban and U.S forces over five months ago. Her story is more tragic because she comes from Ghazni, one of many Taliban-infested towns where as a handicapped female she has little hope of education or marriage. The role of the Afghan female is to become a mother, raise the children and do the chores around the house. A handicapped female becomes a burden to the family if she can't be married off. If Jamalo is lucky she can get a teacher to come to the house but that is probably up to the males in her family to decide whether it is seen as important.

I even spoke to the ICRC director to ask him what can be done to help women like Jamalo and he said he just gave up because it was so incredibly difficult. So here I am wondering how I can give back. Perhaps I can raise funds for a handicapped school for women in Kabul who are civilian casualties. I would like to do something to make a difference.

One thing about covering the stories in Afghanistan is that there never seems to be an end to these heartbreaking, agonizing issues – whether it is about the effects of war, abuse against women, disease and hunger, poverty or unemployment.