I once had this nightmare:

I'm standing in the middle
of a deserted field full of land mines.

In real life I love to hike,

but every time I want to go on a hike
it makes me nervous.

I have the thought in the back of my mind
that I might lose a limb.

This underlying fear started 10 years ago
after I met Mohammed,

a cluster bomb survivor

of the summer 2006
Israel-Hezbollah War in Lebanon.

Mohammed like so many survivors
all around the world,

had to live through the horrifying
repercussions of cluster munitons

on a daily basis.

When the one-month conflict
started in Lebanon,

I was still working at Agence
France-Press in Paris.

I remember how I was glued to the screens,

anxiously following the news.

I wanted to reassure myself that the bombs
falling missed my parents' home.

When I arrived in Beirut
on assignment to cover that war,

I was relieved to be united with my family

after they had finally managed
to escape southern Lebanon.

The day the war was over,

I remember seeing this image.

The one of [blocked roads]
of displaced people eagerly rushing south

back to their homes,

regardless of what they would find.

An estimate of four million
cluster submunitions

were spread in Lebanon during
the 34-day conflict.

Mohammed lost both legs
during the last week of the conflict.

The fact that he lives a five-minute drive
from my parents' home

made it easier to follow
him through the years.

It was now almost 10 years
since we first met.

I saw the young boy who had
to endure a physical and emotional trauma.

I saw the teenager who tried
to offer his friends tattoos

in return for a set fee of five dollars.

And I know the young, jobless man
who spends hours surfing the Internet

trying to meet a girl who might
become his girlfriend.

His fate and the effects
of losing his legs

are now his daily reality.

Survivors of bomb trauma like Mohammed

have to deal with so many details
that never occurred to us.

Who would've imagined

that so many daily tasks we do
or take for granted,

such as going to the beach or even
picking up something from the floor,

would become sources
of stress and anxiety?

Well, that's what eventually
became of Mohammed

due to his inflexible prosthetic legs.

10 years ago I had no clue
what a cluster bomb was,

nor its horrifying implications.

I learned that this indiscriminate weapon
was used in so many parts of the world

and continues to kill on a regular basis,

without distinguishing between
a military target or a child.

I naively asked myself,

"But seriously, who made those weapons?

And what for?"

Let me explain to you what
a cluster bomb is.

It's a large canister filled bomb [leads.]

When it's struck from the air,

it opens up in midair to release
hundreds of bomb [leads.]

They scatter around wide areas

and on impact,

many fail to explode.

Those unexploded ones end up
just like landmines --

sitting on the ground,

waiting for their next target.

If someone steps on them by accident,

or picks them up,

they can explode.

These weapons are extremely unpredictable,

which makes the threat even bigger.

One day, a farmer can work his
land without a problem.

The next day, he can make fire
and burn some branches,

and the submunitions close by
could be set off because of the heat.

The problem is children mistake
those bomb [leads] for toys,

because they can look like
bouncy calls or soda cans.

Being a documentary photographer,

I decided to go back to Lebanon a few
months after the conflict ended

to meet cluster bomb survivors.

And I met a few --

[Usain and Rasha],

who both lost a leg to submunitions.

Their stories are similar to so many
other kids' stories across the world,

and are a testimony
to the horrifying implications

of the continuous use of such weapons.

Back when I met Mohammed in January 2007,

he was 11 years old

and I met him exactly four months
after his accident.

When I first saw him,

he was going through painful
physical therapy

to recover from his fresh wounds.

Still under a shock at such a young age,

Mohammed was struggling
to get used to his new body.

He would even wake up sometimes
at night wanting to scratch his lost feet.

What drew me closer to his story
was my instant realization

of the difficulties Mohammed
was likely to face in the future.

That what he has been suffering
while adjusting to his injury

at the age of 11,

would increase manifold.

Even before his disability,

Mohammed's life wasn't easy.

He was born in the Rashidiya camp
for Palestinian refugees,

and this is where he still lives.

Lebanon holds some 400,000
Palestinean refugees

and they suffer from discriminatory laws.

They're not allowed to work
in the public sector,

or practice certain professions,

and are denied the right own properties.

This is one of the reasons

why Mohammed doesn't really
regret dropping out of school

right after his injury.

He said, "What's the point
of a university degree

when I can't find a job to start with?"

Cluster bomb use creates
a vicious circle of impact

on communities and not only
the lives of their victims.

Many who get injured by this weapon
drop out of school,

can't find jobs or even lose their jobs,

therefore losing the ability
to provide for their families.

This is not to mention
the continuous physical pain,

and the experiences of feeling isolated.

These weapons effect
the poorest of the poor.

The high medical cost
is a burden to the families.

They end up relying
on humanitarian agencies,

which is insufficient and unsustainable,

especially when injuries require
lifelong support to the injured.

10 years after Mohammed's injury,

he is still unable to afford
proper prosthetic legs.

He's very cautious with his steps,

as a couple of falls over the years

brought him embarrassment
among his friends.

He joked that since he doesn't have legs,

some days he tries to walk on his hands.

One of the worst yet invisible
impacts of the weapon

is the psychological scars it leaves.

In one of Mohammed's
early medical reports,

he was diagnosed with signs of PTSD.

He suffered from anxiety,

poor appetite,

sleep disturbance

and showed signs of anger.

The reality is Mohammed never received
proper help to fully recover.

His current obsession
is to leave Lebanon at any cost --

even if it meant embarking
on a hazardous journey

along with refugees drifting towards
Europe today through the Mediterranean.

Knowing how risky such
a journey would be,

he said, "If I were to die on the way,

it doesn't matter."

To Mohammed,

he is dead here anyway.

Cluster bombs are a world problem,

as this munition keeps destroying
and hurting whole communities

for generations to come.

In an online interview with the director
of the Mines Advisory Group,

Jamie Franklin,

he said,

"The US forces dropped over two million
tons of munitions over Laos."

If they couldn't find
their targets in Vietnam,

there were free drop areas in Laos

where planes would drop their loads
before going back to base,

because it's dangerous to land
with loaded planes."

According to the International
Committee of the Red Cross,

in Laos alone --

one of the poorest
countries in the world --

nine to 27 million unexploded
submunitions remain.

Some 11,000 people have been killed
or injured since '73.

This lethal weapon has been used
by over 20 states during armed conflicts

in over 35 countries,

such as Ukraine, Iraq and Sudan.

So far, 119 states have joined
an international treaty

banning cluster bombs,

which is officially called
the Convention on Cluster Munitions.

But some of the biggest producers
of cluster munitons --

namely the United States,
Russia and China --

remain outside of this life-saving treaty

and continue to produce them,

reserve the right to produce
them in the future,

keep those harmful weapons
in their stock piles

and even possibly use them in the future.

Cluster bombs have reportedly
been used most recently

in the ongoing conflicts
in Yemen and Syria.

According to research
on the world wide investments

in cluster munitions producers --

by Pax, a Dutch-made NGO --

financial institutions invested
billions of US dollars

into companies that make
cluster munitions.

The majority of these institutions
are based in countries

that have not yet signed
the Convention on Cluster Munitions.

Getting back to Mohammed,

one of the few jobs he was
able to find was picking lemons.

When I ask him if it's safe
to work in the field he said,

"I'm not sure."

Research shows that cluster munitions
often contaminate areas

where agriculture is the main
source of income.

According to Handicap
International's research,

98 percent of those killed or injured
by cluster munitions are civilians.

84 percent of casualties are males.

In countries where these people have
no choice but to work in those fields,

they simply do it,

and risk it.

Mohammed is the only
male to three sisters.

Culturally, he's expected
to provide for his family,

but he simply can't.

He tried to have so many different jobs

but he couldn't keep any
due to his physical disability

and the less-than-friendly environment
to people with disabilities,

to say the least.

It hurts him a lot when he goes
out looking for a job,

and he [returns] with a small amount
paid to him out of pity.

He said, "I'm not here to beg for money,

I just want to earn it."

Mohammed today is 21 years old.

He's illiterate,

and he communicates with voice messages.

Here is one of his messages.

(Mohammed's message)

He said, "My dream is to run,

and I'm pretty sure once I start running

I would never stop."

Thank you.

(Applause)