Displaced families in Iraq find refuge
Four months ago, Basma, 26, was working as a lawyer in a government directorate in Mosul, Iraq. She and her husband had bought property and were building a new house. But in August, they were forced to flee their hometown of Qaraqosh. With the spread of violent conflict, the town of 50,000 saw an exodus of families forced to leave their ancestral home and seek refuge in the Kurdish-controlled region of northern Iraq.
By Mary Kate MacIsaac, Communications Advisor, WVI-KRI Emergency Response
Today Basma, her husband, Neshwan, and their son, Adelard, 2, are among 243 families from Qaraqosh staying in the reception and funeral halls of two small churches in a town in northern Iraq. They have been here for 40 days.
“We are tired, tired. All of us, very tired,” says the young professional, sweeping her hair from her face with one arm, while using the other to balance her young son on her lap.
Pillows, blankets, and thin mattresses are stacked along walls, on couches, coffee tables and other furniture, dividing the church hall into makeshift living spaces shared by scores of families like Basma’s.
During the day, many of the men look for farm work while the women busy themselves cleaning and doing laundry. Their children play together in the church yard.
Father Zaya is a priest in the church where Basma is staying. He helped arrange assistance for the hundreds of families who sought refuge here following attacks on their town by extremists.
“We did what we could as people began arriving,” says Father Zaya. “We opened the door for them, provided food and beds for as long as we could. We had the ability to do something.”
The church here hosted other minority groups, too. Many Yazidi families found refuge in the early weeks following their escape from villages that were under attack. They have since contacted relatives and are now staying with them.
With growing numbers of displaced seeking his help, the priest reached out to the local bishop who mobilized more aid, sending additional supplies. People were arriving with very little.
“We came with only our clothes,” Basma says, pulling at her shirt. “We had no time to pack. We left everything.”
Qaraqosh’s residents first fled their homes in June, following the fall of Mosul, 20 miles to the north. Basma’s family escaped to a nearby town where they stayed in a school for five days with 30 other families.
“We were in such trouble,” she remembers. “The weather was too hot, we had no electricity, no water. We used a toilet for our shower.”
“I never, never imagined this would happen. I wanted a good future for my son. We dreamed of building our own house. We had bought land and started building – but we couldn't finish it. Now, I want to leave Iraq. For the sake of my children, we must now leave.”
"I hope we will live in a country without war – anywhere that is safe"
Karin, 26, leans against a wall in the small room she shares with 15 of her relatives. She fled Qaraqosh on the same August morning.
She speaks of their difficulties in the days leading up to the attack, how Qaraqosh's water supply was cut off. They lived for a month with no access to clean water.
“It was a terrible day, the day we left. We didn't sleep that night. When it began, the bombardment was continuous.”
For many, the suffering that comes with such loss is only compounded by the fear of an unknown future. “We didn't know what would happen to us. We don’t know our fate. We don’t know our future,” the young woman explains.
Before this conflict affected her city, Karin was a physics teacher. “From my childhood I wanted to teach.” But she is uncertain if she will see her students again. They have no news of their home, what remains of their houses, their belongings, or many of the people they knew.
Both Karin and her sister Rajah, 23, a science technician, were engaged and had expected to be married during the summer. But their wedding dresses were left behind, and their fiancés found refuge with their extended families in churches in other cities. For now, the weddings have been postponed.
“I hope we’ll get married,” says Karin tentatively. “I hope we get our own house. I hope we will live in a country without war – anywhere that is safe.”
While many of the displaced families speak of immigrating abroad, this isn’t an easy decision.
“We wish to go back to our land because we have our memories there. We have our picture albums. This was our life. We were dreaming to be married. We bought our wedding dresses.”
She speaks in measured words, calmly, then pauses. “We cried all day, the first day, but not now. What should we do…. it’s not in our hands. We are alive. This is the most important thing.”
World Vision is on the ground in the Kurdish Region of Iraq, completing assessments and preparing to provide cash assistance, food vouchers, improved water and sanitation facilities, hygiene kits, blankets, mattresses, baby kits, and basic health services. Our initial planning will target some 150,000 internally displaced persons and vulnerable members of the host communities.