Blue eyes in Iraq!

So the last 17 days of my life have been some of the most hardcore days of my life and career! Starting with 5 days in my beloved Palestine where we cancelled our trip to Gaza and stayed in the West Bank because of two days of bombing from Israel in Rafah, where our village is. I was inundated with fabulous Palestinian hospitality and food.

After these five days I started the journey from Palestine to Iraq. This was a trip that I told very few about; my parents, my housemates, my cats but they seemed least concerned. Understandably I did not want people to worry unnecessarily.

As I sat in Istanbul airport on transit from Iraq to Morocco, I told my siblings this morning and my little brother asked if I was going to blog about it. I was not sure how to write about such an experience but thought that it might do my head some good to write about what I saw and heart.

So my driver takes me from Bethlehem to Israel to catch my flight. On the journey Elias tells me I should not fly to Iraq, it is dangerous there, some irony when you are leaving Palestine...

I arrive at Tel Aviv airport where I am registered as a level 6 threat to Israel; the highest threat level you can have, I start my interrogation.

'Where are you going?'

'My next stop is Istanbul.'

'Is that your final destination?'

'No, my final destination is Erbil.'

'Where is that?'

'Iraq.'

'…………(long pause) …….Is it not dangerous there?'

So after some hours of questions I board my plane for Istanbul. We were delayed, as I enter the airport they are announcing last call for my flight. I dash through the airport and make it onto my flight, just.

It is quite a surreal experience flying somewhere you have not been before; A country which has one of the worst reputations in the world; Going to a place where the front line with Da'esh (ISIS) is 40 kilometres away and the Syrian border is 50 kilometres away; Flying from a country who is at war with Kurds and landing in the Kurdistan region of Iraq. With no wine or any form of alcohol on the flight to distract I focus on a film- The Race- it is well worth watching and before you know it we begin our decent to Erbil airport. I do not know how other people who do this job cope but I just tell myself that if the worst happens life has been so fabulous so far.

As I enter the airport building there are people all over the place and I am trying to work out which queue I need to be in when an immigration office approaches me.

'Madame which county are you from? You have beautiful eye!'

Once it was established I was English this apparently warrants me to be able to use the diplomat’s entrance to Erbil with two Iraqi immigration stamps! I am not looking forward to explain that to immigration in the UK next time I am home.

We travel for 2.5 hours across Iraq on amazingly well made roads, not something I was expecting. A few check points later and we arrive in Duhuk.

There are 36 official camps for Internally Displaced People and Syrian refugees and many unofficial camps and people squatting in unfinished buildings. The scale of the situation is epic. An area of 40,000km accommodates this.

On 3rd August 2014 Da'esh attack The Sinjar Mountain range where the Yazidi community lived. Yazidi’s are a community which have their own culture and religion. They are a peaceful farming community who mainly lived in the Sinjar Mountains.

From 3^rd August, 5000 women and children were kidnapped and taken as slaves. Women over 40 were executed on the spot. Many men were also killed or kidnapped. Young boys were taken and trained as Da'esh fighters. Hundreds of mass graves have been found since and many 1000's of people are still missing.

When the attack happened on 3rd August, thousands of people fled their homes and villages and went up the mountain, many many people have told us of being on top of the mountain for 9 or ten days with no food or water, trying to work out what to do next. In absolute desperation they eventually started the 13 hour walk down the other side of the mountain, not knowing what to expect on the other side.

In Duhuk you have many families who survived. 77% of these families still have family members who are missing or known to be kidnapped. 95% are suffering from extreme trauma.

We were there to do an assessment to support these communities. There is already many NGO's operating here, but no one is supporting income generating activities and there is only one project for young boys who have been bought back or escaped from Da'esh. This is somewhat like a detention center where the boys are in-prisoned. No one knows what to do with this generation of child soldiers trained by Da’esh. As the days progress we realized quite clearly that these NGO’s have nice offices and paid staff but literally no activities on the ground. Apart from 2 well known organizations none of the others were having any impact and did not seem to care.

Our project will provide income generating activities for women, psychosocial support for those who need it and a rehabilitation program for young boys who were kidnapped and trained to fight and kill.

The camps sprawl for miles in desert with mountains in the backdrop. During the day it is unforgivably hot and when the breeze does come it brings with it dust and sand which covers everything.

Whilst on this 10 day mission we have met many families, we have been to many camps, informal and otherwise. But one of the families we met will stay with me forever.

We arrive at a 2 roomed house where 14 people are living including a tiny new born baby.  We meet the grandmother who looks to be in her 60's but really it is hard to tell. She managed to escape with some of her family but her daughter and sons and all but one grandchild were kidnapped or killed. She does not know where her brothers or sisters are.

She introduces us to her granddaughter Ilham. Ilham is now 19, she was kidnapped at 17 years of age. She was raped between 30 and 40 times a day by her captors and was beaten daily. She was kept as a slave, sexually and in every other way of a slave. She was one of the lucky ones who risked everything to escape.

Recently Da'esh has been 'offering' to sell people back to their families. They take photos of their victims and share them amongst themselves. All Da'esh members have slaves and the salves identify who the people are and pass on contact details of their families thinking they are being released.

Photos are sent to these families with a price tag per person. These range from $1000-$4000. These people who have lost everything and their loved ones and living in refugee camps or squatting are supposed to find this money to pay for their family members. Each potential sale has a time limited and if you do not get the money in time your loved one is sold on to another Da'esh member.

I have seen these messages and photos with my own eyes. Our translator telling us what the messages are saying. This is not an exaggeration, this is happening.

Ilham's brother is 7 years old. He was taken when he was 5years old. 10 days before we met them Ilham and her grandmother borrowed $1200 to secure his release. He was made to forget his Kurdish language and learn Arabic. He was made to read and learn the Koran. He was taught how to use guns and knives to kill people. He was forced to watch videos of people being beheaded repeatedly and told that he will have to do this one day. He was beaten daily and no longer has finger or toe nails as daily these were crushed until they did not grow back.

He is now extremely aggressive and whilst we were there repeatedly slapped, kicked and bit his older brother who had fled with the grandmother. Da'esh had told him to kill all Yazidi people. He is Yazidi as are his family. It is truly horrendous.

Sadly this is not a one off situation. There are thousands and thousands of Yazidi people still held by Da’esh. There are much worse stories we were told which I still cannot bring myself to think about let alone write about.

So as to not end this post on a miserable note I thought I would also share my perceptions about the area of Iraq I was in. We were in the northern part of the country which is very mountainous. We were in the city of Duhuk which is a small city in comparison to England. Throughout the mountains are villages and tourist spots. Yes tourists! The Kurdistan region has the more forgiving weather in the country so over the summer months Iraqi’s flock to the mountains for respite from the 50+ weather in desert conditions.

As with all countries which I frequent meat and chickpea based foods are the main options. We were also served lambs tongue, it literally looks like a tongue and the texture was so grim to me that I cannot even tell you how it tasted. I was also presented with something luminous green- I just avoided that and some soup which looked like snot. Also avoided.

For the first time in a long time I was not accused of being from the US of A but instead I was asked at least three times if I was Russian. I actually googled whether it would be better to be Russian, ‘Merican or British in this circumstance…. As with all missions my eyes become a cause for attention particularly at check points when you have to take your sunglasses off!

 This was one of the hardest things I have ever done and I did not live through what these people have! I just heard their stories and saw on their faces the haunted looks. I cannot even begin to comprehend how the human spirit allows you to continue. I am humbled by these people. I am also encouraged that we will be setting up a strong and sustainable program from September. We hope that what we will do will help these people rebuild themselves as humans so that once Da’esh’s front line is pushed back further from Sinjar Mountain they can return home; a wish that every single person I met had.