Devastated families in reclaimed Mosul return to their communities

Sunday, July 21, 2019

First published by News.com.au - read the full multimedia version here.

It’s been two years since Iraqi armed forces reclaimed Mosul from the so-called Islamic State. Children are going back to school and it’s reading, writing and mine awareness that are on the syllabus.

World Vision’s Vanessa Forrest travelled to Iraq to find hope among the rubble.

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It was a typical Friday in Mosul when Raja’s father went to pray.

The 10-year-old was sitting inside her home. ISIL was shooting at planes, and the planes were dropping bombs.

Raja was afraid her house would collapse, so she started running. She passed three or four houses before the bombs closed in.

Raja’s neighbours picked up her broken body and brought her inside. They contacted her mother who took her to hospital.

The bombing had a lasting impact on Raja. She was scared to go outside, hovering at the front door only to feel the sunshine. She just wanted to be alone in her home.

Decades of war have left close to seven million people across the country in need of humanitarian aid.

To understand the complexity of the situation on the ground, so that I could co-ordinate the humanitarian response for World Vision Australia, I needed to witness the devastation first-hand.

I recently travelled to Erbil, the capital of the Kurdistan Region of Iraq.

Islamic State fighters had been heading towards Erbil before they were stopped.

The relative safety and proximity to the Syrian border has ­meant that it has become a hub for refugees and displaced people.

There are about 250,000 refugees from Syria still in Iraq, but the bigger issue is Iraqi internally displaced people.

Six million people were displaced through the conflict with the Islamic State and around 1.7 million of those are still displaced now.

Many of the survivors are children and have significant injuries and needs.

The second-year anniversary of Mosul is significant. While ISIL don’t hold territory within Iraq, it doesn’t mean that the risk is gone and that It is safe for families.

ISIL have claimed responsibility for some of the recent outbreaks of farm fires across northern Iraq that have destroyed crops across 11 governorates impacting livelihoods, food security and causing people to flee their homes all over again.

While in Northern Iraq I visited the sprawling Hassan Sham camp. It’s just one of more than 100 refugee camps in Iraq and people have been in the camp a very long time.

The tents are in rows, like streets, and designed in blocks.

Each of those blocks form their own community.

The camps have some electricity, which is crucial, because summers are extremely hot, and winters devastatingly cold.

From a technical point of view the camp is as good as it gets. But it’s almost harder to visit a well-structured, well-facilitated camp, because it implies a permanence that perhaps other camps don’t have.

Nobody wants to spend even one night in a refugee camp. But increasingly in fragile contexts we are finding people can spend their entire childhood and teenage years living in a tent.

Camps are not ideal, but there are a lot of risks in leaving them.

For many Iraqis, home is now a pile of rubble.

To make matters worse, many people with perceived affiliation with ISIL find it very challenging to return to their community.

Another risk is the millions of tonnes of unexploded mines and munitions spread out in Northern Iraq.

As ISIL were retreating they went through houses and playgrounds and booby-trapped things like copies of the Quran, doorways, toilet seats and even playground equipment and toys.

One principal I met told me that mine awareness was now on the syllabus alongside reading, writing and arithmetic; a crucial life skill for displaced children preparing for their return home.

Iraq is a country that has a lot of mystique wrapped around it, but what struck me the most was the normality.

As I was driving through the streets of Baghdad, I could have been driving through the streets of any big city.

But in Baghdad, it’s what you can’t see that’s equally important. Like missing teeth in an otherwise heartfelt smile.

In Baghdad people say you can see the city that used to be; at regular intervals entire buildings have simply vanished.

Just like the buildings, many of Iraq’s challenges aren’t visible to the naked eye.

We know that surviving war doesn’t only leave physical scars.

There’s the mental and emotional impact that children have to cope with too – often without support or medical help.

What many people take for granted, and what’s crucial for kids who have experienced war first-hand, is a sense of normality: a stable learning environment, opportunities to study, to take exams and finish school, social activities, and access support for any psychosocial issues.

Through my work, I’ve met so many children like Raja. We set up safe spaces for children to play and learn, and we help them access support in conflict zones across the world.

In Iraq alone, World Vision has helped thousands of children through protection, psychosocial support and education programs.

Raja now likes to go outside and play with friends like any normal child. She is probably one of the strongest girls you’ll ever meet. She is full of life and radiates happiness and positivity, despite her experiences. She’s strong-willed and optimistic about her future.

— Vanessa Forrest is World Vision Australia’s Humanitarian Portfolio Manager for the Middle East. Continue the conversation @vanessajforrest

— You can listen to Vanessa’s podcast, featuring Raja, via Apple podcasts.

Opinion Pieces, Middle East, Eastern Europe & Central Asia, Iraq

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