Escape from ISIL, but not tragedy
Death in Mosul was the end of a father’s story after years of seeking safety in Iraq
ERBIL // Fifteen- year- old Abdul-Hameed Nasser was lying in a hospital bed, recovering from wounds suffered in an ISIL mortar attack when his brother told him their father had died from shrapnel wounds. Abdul- Hameed screamed: “God curse the father of the Islamic State!”
Then he lay gazing into space, sometimes pulling the blanket over his head.
It was a tragic end for the patriarch, Eid, after two years of moving across northern Iraq seeking safety.
In the end, the Nassers were among the many civilians caught in the crossfire as Iraqi forces slowly advance deeper into the ISIL-held northern city of Mosul.
The family’s experience illustrates how even those parts of the city that Iraqi troops have recaptured are far from safe. Government forces moved into their neighbourhood, called Nour, a month ago.
Last week, on a miserable rainy day, militants unleashed a barrage on the district. “Rain and mortars came down like buckets,” Abdul-Hameed’s cousin, Mohammed Abdul-Karim, said. “The battle was so intense, almost everyone in the neighbourhood seemed to flee at the same time. It was like doomsday.”
The 14-member family fled. Six of them were wounded by mortar fire, including Abdul-Hameed, one of his siblings and – most gravely of all – his father.
An estimated 1 million people were living in Mosul when Iraqi forces launched the campaign to retake it on October 17.
The government told residents to stay in their homes during the assault, hoping to avoid a flood of displaced people. But the military has taken only about a quarter of the city. Unable to endure without electricity or water as supplies run out, residents near front lines often have no choice but to leave.
According to residents who did, families wishing to leave make contact with the military through phone numbers given on radio broadcasts. Often, the military deploys drones or helicopters to ensure their safety as residents bolt. If it’s night-time, the helicopters release flares to illuminate their route.
But in some cases, families lose their way, wandering into minefields or towards snipers.
For the Nasser family, Mosul was one stop in an odyssey that began when ISIL swept across the country in 2014.
They left Beiji, in central Iraq, when it was captured that summer. They settled in a suburb for several months, then went to Kurdish-controlled Kirkuk.
The Kurds, suspicious of Sunni Arabs from ISIL-held areas, made the family and others sleep in the fields then finally turned the Nasser family away.
That was when Eid Nasser took them to Mosul, where they lived in a house vacated by acquaintances who had fled. ISIL soon evicted them , so they moved across the river to the east and rented a house in Nour.
They tried to flee Mosul last year, but were caught by ISIL , who took the family’s vehicles and forced them to promise never to try to leave the city. “I miss school,” said Abdul-Hameed minutes before he heard of his father’s death. “I want to go back to school and go to university to be an engineer.”
“Iraq is no longer a good place to live,” said his cousin, Mohammed, whose face was hit by shrapnel. “We will probably settle here in Kurdistan.”