Shafeeka's story: hardship and isolation in Iraq

08 Mar 2009 07:41:00 GMT
Written by: Oxfam GB


For almost six years now, images of horrific chaos and conflict in Iraq have been regularly beamed into our homes. But what do we know about the lives that are being led behind the scenes we see on TV? Are things really getting better? And for whom?

Last year, Oxfam and the Iraqi women's rights organisation, the Al-Amal Association ran a comprehensive survey, speaking to some of the most vulnerable people in Iraqi society - women. They discovered the hidden struggles of their daily lives and their most urgent needs.

Shafeeka's story, which follows, sheds some light on the problems facing Iraqi women today.

Shafeeka's Story*

Shafeeka has not seen her husband since he was called up for service during the Gulf War. She does not know whether or not he is dead or alive and does not receive a state pension from the government.

For the last five years, the 59-year-old has lived alone in a dusty, isolated area; there are just a few scattered farms nearby. In winter, the land around her home is used for farming and she cultivates a small patch when she can to help her get by. But scarce water resources mean that the land is unusable during much of the year, when she depends on hard labour and food rations given to her by the government -the only state assistance she receives - to survive.

Before the American-led invasion in 2003, Shafeeka's life was by no means luxurious but she lived in a house. As a result of the war, she was left with no other choice but to move into a tent, which she made with her own hands. More than five years have passed since her arrival to this remote area and for most of that time she has been living in that tent which provides little protection from the elements. Only recently, did she build a small makeshift structure, which shelters her from the sun and rain.

"As soon as the war started, house prices rose dramatically; I could not afford the rent. One day, my landlord came over, threw all my possessions into the street and told me to leave. So I sold all of my belongings, kept the small amount of money I made from it in my purse, and moved to this area to be closer to my husband's relatives who work nearby," she explained.

Electricity is only available for farms in the area, so she relies on a lantern to see at night. If she cannot afford or find any oil, she lights a fire so that she can see. Most other amenities are also unavailable.

"There is no clean water here. When I can afford it, I buy clean water and keep it in jerry cans. I use wood to bake bread in a clay furnace that I made myself. We have so little here.... The nearest health centre is 40 kilometres away. People have died in this area because they were unable to get the treatment they needed. We have complained to the governorate offices, but nobody wants to hear us, " Shafeeka said.

Shafeeka has had no choice but to adapt and relies on her own creativity, perseverance and resilience to survive. Together with neighbouring women she dug a water well, which provides water for cooking, cleaning and washing. Every day, Shafeeka goes out and makes her arduous living.

"First thing in the morning, I collect hay. As the area where I get it from is quite far away, I had to carry my tent around with me. It was my home for five years, so I didn't want to leave it behind. On return to the area where I live, I mix what clay I can manage to buy with water and the hay I have collected. It is hard work, you have to mix everything up with your hands; I am an aging woman, it is difficult. I then mould it into to form a furnace, which I leave out in the sun to harden. I sell each one for 2,000 dinars ($1.75) which is enough to buy me three meals."

Shafeeka has not been able to receive a widow's pension because she needs proof that her husband has died. It is proof she does not have - she does not even know for certain whether or not her husband is dead. More than 75 percent of widows that Oxfam spoke with last year during a survey of 1,700 women across Iraq were not receiving state aid. According to rough estimates, there are now some 740,000 widows in Iraq (or 1 in every 11 women aged 15-80), a figure that has ballooned as a result of Iraq's conflicts.

"I have to rely upon myself. I will work until the last day of my life; it is not shameful to work. I feel proud to be a woman capable of relying on herself. I wish I had a pension to rely upon when I grow older and am no longer able to do this work... I need a home, you can't imagine how difficult and hard it has been to live in a tent but I have to be patient in hope that one day things will become better when the situation stabilises, the government takes control of everything and security prevails", she said with a little optimism.

*Shafeeka is not her real name. Her name has been changed to protect her identity.

Photo credits:
First photo: Al-Amal Association
Second and third photos: Ceerwan Aziz/Oxfam.