7 years later, let's not forget

Over and over, Iraqis here tell me that they believe we are "good people", that they know we care because, they say, they remember seeing us in huge numbers in the streets, protesting the war before the March 2003 invasion and during the early years of the occupation. 

For Iraqis, the war is not just a bad memory marked off once a year on a calendar page; it persists, filling every moment of every day as relentlessly and brutally as during those early days of "shock and awe" in 2003. They may escape temporarily into sleep at night but their dreams are broken by the certainty that they will only waken to yet another day of suffering, grief and loss.

If we are to be worthy of Iraqis' generous opinion of us, let's prove that we have not forgotten them and that we still care.  Let's renew our determination to end their suffering under this war and occupation by taking to the streets to make our protest as focused on their plight and as passionately visible as it was in 2003. And, let's reach out to help these weary innocent victims of the nightmare of war survive. 

Let's remember them - not only on this day but every day until that faraway time when Iraq is finally  and fully free from occupation and its resulting violence and human tragedy.

Let's remember them the same way we would hope others would remember us if we were in their shoes. Please.

drawing by my young friend "Hadia": Iraqi blogger and author of IraqiGirl - Diary of a Teenage Girl in Iraq

http://iraqigirl.blogspot.com/

from despair to hope

AHMED We took Ahmed shopping for his Micro-Project a few days ago. A very talented graduate of Baghdad University of Art, Ahmed wanted basic supplies so that he could paint and then sell his paintings to support himself.

Ahmed arrived in Amman in January of this year, fleeing persecution and death threats that tormented him in Iraq. He came with one suitcase of clothes and a little money that rapidly evaporated when he paid rent for a substandard room in the basement of a shabby building and bought food - when he could. He told us that he was eating only one small meal a day until just before we met him when even that one meal became unaffordable.The events that led to him fleeing Iraq have left him traumatized and he wept frequently as he cautiously told us his story. He told us that he'd been in despair and had frequently contemplated suicide - he showed us the scars from one attempt to end his own life. With no income and no solutions in sight, his hopelessness was increasing despite having escaped death to safety in Jordan. CRP, in your names, provided Ahmed with immediate cash assistance for his basic needs, food, a blanket, and some basic household items. We presented his case as an emergency to UNHCR who fast-tracked him for assessment for their cash assistance program (usually new arrivals face a wait of several months) and, when we explained Ahmed's unique situation and why he should be considered to be considered extremely vulnerable and a candidate for resettlement to a third country as soon as possible, UNHCR immediately moved his case from protection only and into the resettlement unit.

Now, in addition to having his immediate critical needs met and with hope of resettlement so he can build a new life in safety, the art supplies that you provided for him will allow him to spend his time pursuing his passion instead of in depression, hopelessness, and in the struggle for daily survival. 

We've witnessed a dramatic change in Ahmed's spirit in just a couple of weeks since our initial meeting with him - because of the support and assistance you've provided for him. The only tears he's shed recently are from joy.

YOU did this! Thank you!

But we would like you to hear Ahmed's gratitude in his own words:

I am Ahmed, a young Iraqi man, born in 1980, single, and I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts, Painting Division, from Baghdad University of Art. I arrived in Jordan on 3^rd January 2010 from Iraq, with only my suitcase, a little money, and a huge pain and sorrow, which is the same of all Iraqi people both inside and outside of Iraq.

I was afraid,very worried and disappointed because I had many problems in Iraq and worried about the unknown future waiting for me here in Jordan. I won’t speak much more about myself or about my case because this is not the reason to write these lines. Instead, my goal is to draw attention to Collateral Repair Project existing here in Jordan, working to help Iraqi people that need assistance.

By chance I met this organization and they agreed to make appointment to hear from me about my case and my circumstances, and what reasons forced me to leave Iraq and come to Amman.

CRP made me welcome with kindness and visited the room where I live to know more about my situation in Amman. They helped me with a sum of money because I had used the money I had when I came to Amman. They gave me food supplies, cleaning items and kitchen equipment. But most important for me, CRP gave me painting supplies I need, and everything that I need to open a new painting project, because it is my speciality in study.

This action makes this organization more special than any others because it helped me as an individual person, it gave support and the chance to open a project in my study field.

More and above, CRP helped me to overcome my constant sorrow and disappointment and encouraged me psychologically and emotionally.

CRP contacted the UN Office for Refugees (UNHCR) in Amman, where I was able to register as a refugee and (CRP) gave them a summary of my situation to support my case, explaining on my behalf some aspects of my case in detail. As the result of their effort, I had a visit from UNHCR at my room to see my situation firsthand, in order for me to maybe get some financial aid to help with living expenses. Also on the same day, an employee of the UN Office contacted me to inform me that I had an interview the next day to submit a statement for a decision about my status in Jordan (from protection to resettlement)

If I did not have this support from the CRP in all these areas: financial, psychological and emotional, I would not have overcome my disappointment and troubles that I had all the time before.

I promise, if I succeed to stay in Jordan, and that make much money from the sale of my paintings, it will be donated to CRP in order to support more Iraqi people.

I give a message for everyone: if you can, make contribution to this organization. Do not hesitate, because CRP is humane and the people in it deserve all the respect for what they do.

Finally I would like to repeat, if I did not have this support from CRP in all these ways, I could not have overcome my problems. So please help Collateral Repair Project to be able to help more people suffering from a difficult situation financially and emotionally - Ahmed

Please give now so others can be helped:

http://collateralrepairproject.org/Donate.html

SOS from CRP

Another dreadful anniversary of the 2003 invasion of Iraq is approaching rapidly. Seven years later, Iraqis are still suffering from the "shock and awe" that resulted in over a million dead, and millions more maimed, widowed, orphaned and displaced.

Despite rosy reports in western mainstream media, Iraq's security has not significantly improved and Iraqis like Ahmed are still fleeing for their lives. Those already living as refugees in neighboring nations are sinking into deeper and deeper destitution each year they are in exile. The global financial crisis has resulted in cutbacks and elimination of vital assistance programs that were already insufficient to meet their most basic needs.

CRP's ability to provide Iraqi refugees with assistance has also been affected - even more so than large international NGOs as our donor-base, although dedicated, is comparatively much smaller. We have always operated on a shoe-string budget but now that shoe-string is dangerously frayed and we are in danger of having to fold.

Although we have trimmed back our projects and cut expenses wherever we could, at this point we have only enough funds for one more month of operation and to provide assistance to these innocent victims of war. We know how necessary our work is and we are frightened for those who, like Ahmed, depend on us. What will happen to them if we can no longer be here to help?

If you can, please donate now to assure we can continue

giving Iraqi refugees help - and hope - in your name

Many of you have already given generously and we know that some of you are unable to give financially again right now.

But there is another vital way you can contribute:

CAN YOU GIVE A FEW MINUTES OF YOUR TIME TO HELP?
YOU, AS A SUPPORTER OF COLLATERAL REPAIR PROJECT, KNOW ABOUT THE CONTINUING DIRE SITUATION OF IRAQIS IN EXILE AND YOU KNOW WHY IT'S IMPORTANT THAT COLLATERAL REPAIR PROJECT CONTINUES TO BE HERE FOR THEM.

WON'T YOU PLEASE TELL YOUR FRIENDS, CO-WORKERS, E-MAIL / SOCIAL NETWORK CONTACTS, FAITH COMMUNITY, AND OTHERS?

Here are some links to help you:

Collateral Repair Project web site: http://www.collateralrepairproject.org/

This blog: http://www.collateralrepairproject.blogspot.com/

Follow us on Twitter: @CRProject

Find us on facebook: Collateral Repair Project

Join our facebook GROUP:

Collateral Repair Project - Helping You Help Iraqi Refugees

Donate: www.collateralrepairproject.org/Donate.html

Contact us: info(at)collateralrepairproject.org

Collateral Repair Project interview

Part 1 of a series of interview questions posed to CRP by our partner in the UK, Iraqi Solidarity Campaign. Please be so kind as to pass this along and, if you can, please contribute so that we can continue to provide critically needed assistance to the displaced Iraqi victims of of war:

www.uruknet.info/index.php?p=m64098&hd=&size=1&l=e

Fire and Water

SEEHAM has little recollection of the day in 2004, not unlike many others, when she walked in the local souk (open-air marketplace) to do some shopping. Despite her lack of memory about this day, it ended up to be the most memorable day of her life.

As with too many Iraqis since the US-led invasion of Iraq, going about their usual business, her life was irrevocably changed by what should have been the most ordinary of errands when a suicide bomber detonated near her in the marketplace.

She does remember the carnage; body parts strewn around her and then, nothing. Seeham carries enough evidence with her now to let her know exactly what happened. Her head and right side of her body are badly scarred and deformed from the burns she suffered in the attack. Her right hand is nearly useless.

Seeham found out about CRP and asked to meet with us about her situation. My Iraqi colleague and translator, Ghazwan and I had an earlier appointment with another family that ran late. It was dark when we finally arrived outside Seeham’s building and Ghazwan called her to let her know we were outside and needed directions to her apartment. She told us to wait and in a few moments a woman, disguised by the evening shadows, came out to meet us and directed us to go up the stairs, following behind us. It was not until we entered the apartment that I saw her terribly damaged face.

Seeham made us at ease with the seeming comfort that she has with her body and its dreadful fate. She spoke with confidence and made no effort to hide herself. After a few moments, I barely noticed her disfigurement as it was obscured by her dignity and determination. Although she is only thirty-six years old, her age seems timeless.

She told us as much as she could remember of the event and showed us a form issued to her on the day of the bombing by the local police. It read “victim of suicide bombing. Provide care at (name of) hospital”. It hit me as odd that this form seemed so matter-of-fact, as it was just a routine occurrence that scorched this woman’s body but then, in Iraq, suicide bombings are routine now. ..phenomena that did not exist until after the invasion.

Seeham first entered Jordan in July of 2009 when doctors in Baghdad told her that she needed a procedure that Iraq’s beleaguered medical system could not provide. Seeham describes it as “shaving” of the burned layer of skin from her face and chest. Her beloved cousin brought her to Jordan and the procedure was attempted at a hospital here in the capital, Amman. But the equipment broke down while she was undergoing treatment and was canceled. She and her cousin returned to Iraq – and Seeham carried another burden with her; when she returned to Baghdad, she was diagnosed with Hepatitis that she likely contracted in the hospital.

Seeham was treated for the Hepatitis and spent a good part of her time in hospitals and then, at home, under the care of her cousin and his wife. As she spoke of them, it was obvious that her dependence on them was for her emotional well-being as much as for their care of her ailing body. Her face brightened and she stated firmly that she “must” be with them. She shows me another medical report that states she must have the shaving procedure because, if not, she will certainly develop skin cancer.

Then, in January of this year, Seeham returned to Amman with her cousin and his family. Her cousin had been notified that he, his wife and child would be resettled to Germany. Seeham was hopeful that she would be allowed to go with them or, at least, join them later. But, since her case file with UNHCR is separate from theirs, she was not included in the resettlement but, instead, her case was referred to resettlement alone. Offered resettlement to the USA, she refused it, knowing that this would end any hope of joining her cousin. Now she has been offered the opportunity to be interviewed by an Australian delegation for resettlement. She wanted advice about whether or not she should turn them down, too. She desperately wants only to be reunited with her cousin and yet she is terrified that she will remain stuck in limbo in Jordan and without the follow-up care she badly needs. She told me, “I cannot sleep at night. All night I lay awake, trying to decide what is best, what I should do. I cry all night. I am so tired but I cannot stop thinking about this. I need to be with them (her cousin and family). If I go alone to another country, who will take care of me? I cannot be alone.” She pleads with me to help.

I offer to contact a NGO in Amman that may be able to help her get the skin-shaving. She is not interested. She only wants to join her cousin and “then have treatment when they can take care of me”.

Seeham had told me that she heard Germany was no longer accepting Iraqis. I told her that I would try to find out. Sadly, I was told that as of now, Germany is not accepting any new Iraqi immigrants from Jordan as their quota is closed and there are no German delegations scheduled to come here. I was told to tell Seeham to not count on German delegations coming in the future, although it is possible that they will send more, depending on if Germany opens its doors to more Iraqis.

Seeham also asked me to find out what will happen if she turns down the offer to be interviewed for resettlement to Australia. I was told that “if some-one refuses resettlement to a certain country that case will normally not be submitted anywhere else.” However, in compelling cases, subsequent offers of resettlement are sometimes granted.

I will talk with Seeham tonight. I’m afraid that I have nothing to offer her to give her hope or make it any easier for her to decide whether or not she should agree to be interviewed by the Australian delegation. If she turns it down, there is no guarantee that her case will not be removed from consideration for resettlement completely – and even if it is not, there is no way to know if it could be possible in the future for her to be considered by Germany.

I dread situations like this, where I am approached to find solutions and can only offer bad news in response. Iraqis have suffered tremendous trauma from war and its losses. In exile, without legal residency, they have few rights and even fewer of those rights allow them any power to change their situations. They are desperate for anyone that they perceive (accurately or not) to have “more power” than they do to intercede for them. I have learned to be cautious and brutally honest; there is little if anything I can do and to foster false hope and then suffer it being crushed is the cruelest pain of all.

Even knowing Seeham as little as I do, I have the strong feeling that discouraging report to her will not deter her determination to be reunited with the only family she has. She knows what she needs and she believes, like most Iraqis, that one is not defined by themselves alone, that one forms their identity and purpose by their family and community.

This has been one of the least-acknowledged losses Iraqis suffer. While in Iraq, they’ve all lost family members and close friends to death – initially, by the Coalition forces, and then later by criminals, unfettered because of the dismantling of the police and other security forces under Bremer. Later, many more lives were lost (and are still being lost) to sectarian killings – often brutally executed. Millions lost their homes or the ability to live in them when death threats by sectarian militias forced them into exile – both inside Iraq and to neighboring nations. They lost, not only their material possessions, but also careers and everything they had worked to provide for themselves and their families. Even before this exodus, families were kept apart – travel, even within the same city, meant traversing roadblocks that were often manned by sectarian militias or gangs who demanded to see identification – and if ones name indicated they were from the “wrong” sect, death or kidnapping and torture was likely.

Refugees in Jordan and other neighboring countries suffered these losses but many still had the meager comfort of knowing loved ones remaining behind in Iraq were relatively close – within a day’s ground travel time. Daily “miss calls” (calls that are rung to ones phone but not answered) keeps loved ones in touch, letting them know that , for another day at least, they are alive. There is always the hope, however futile, that things might improve and families and communities can reunite in some way.

But, over years of living in destitution and with Iraq’s security unimproved to any real degree, with the death threats that forced them to flee still in place, most realize that they cannot return to Iraqi. Resources , such as savings, they may have brought with them are gone, humanitarian aid (never sufficient, even at best) is being cut and Iraqis find themselves boxed in, unable to return to the lives they left behind and unable to live in exile. Many look to resettlement as the only way to begin to live again.

But accepting resettlement is not an easy decision for most. They know it means being separated by continents from loved ones. It is a very final decision that they know, in many ways, severs them from their past. I have spent the last few hours with departing Iraqis as their family and friends gather to say goodbye. It’s a bittersweet time; joy for those departing that they can now look forward to living freely, and deep sorrow at parting from one another. Mothers and fathers are separated from their adult children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters and their spouses and children who have always shared the same home grab hold of one another, not wanting to say goodbye, not wanting to leave. When the car arrives to carry them to the airport, the round of farewells and embraces continues, everyone unwilling for it to end, for the final moment when they must leave. Those left behind stand in the street, watching until the tail-lights of the car are no longer visible, tears running down their faces; grown men burst into tears and women clutch their children, burying their faces into their hair as their tears flow. Children who are too young to understand look solemn; they will not really understand until their repeated “Where’s grandma? I want my grandma” for the next days and weeks eventually diminish and then stop when she never returns. But adults left behind never stop hoping to reunite with those who’ve left. It is as if an essential part of them is missing and they have no choice but to be put back together again.

When I attended the farewell of one family, as the car was moving out of sight, I was urged to step back out of the street and onto the curb. Then one of the children was instructed to pour a pitcher of water into the street. It was explained to me that this is an Iraqi custom, that the water symbolizes a way for the loved ones to return to one another. I had to leave this liquid path to make sure that it led directly between those leaving and those behind. There could not be any impediments that might block or divert it.

So I understand Seeham’s insistence that there must be a way. And I know that if there is not, part of her will never be whole. And I wish I could help somehow – to be a part of that clear path that leads to joyous and healing reunion – but the information I can offer makes me only another who stands in the road and blocks the way.

Can You Help This Boy?

"Rahm" is nine years old. He was born early - at only 7 months gestation. He is a twin but his brother did not survive. He has an 11 year old brother and the boys and their parents are extremely impoverished.

"Rahm" got off to a rough start and his life is not easy now but he faces still another challenge - one that can be dealt with - if only his parents had enough money to take care of it. As it is, they struggle to pay the rent and feed the boys. "Rahm", because of his early birth, was born with undesended testicles.

His parents have had no money to take him to doctors to discuss treatment of this problem but, last year, "Rahm" became very ill and was taken to the hospital for emergency treatment. When the doctor examined him, he told the parents that this problem must be dealt with as soon as possible. In fact, the physician told them, it is getting to be "too late" and really, now is his last chance. If he does not have corrective surgery now, he will never be able to have children. This condition also explains why "Rahm" has involuntary urination. Rough on a young boy who already fears going to school because the non-Iraqi students there bully and beat him because he's Iraqi.

CRP does not usually ask for contributions for medical-related issues because their cost can be so high but we know that there are no other options for this boy and we must ask.

Cost for his surgery and related tests and hospitalization will be somewhere between $500 - $800.

If you are able to help this boy, please contact us: http://collateralrepairproject.org/ContactUs.html

***note "Rahm" is not this boy's name. We want to protect his dignity and privacy by not revealing his true name nor publishing his photo

Iraqi Refugee Kids Get New Wniter Coats

FAR From FREEDOM: 3 part short video series on Iraqi refugees in Jordan

Please watch this video series on Iraqi refugees in Jordan by ABC News Australia. All three parts are available for watching online:

http://www.abc.net.au/news/video/iraqis/

ABC News Online presents this major investigation into Iraqi refugees living in Jordan. For two months, freelance video and photo journalist Ed Giles lived and worked among the refugees.

They told him their stories and showed him their lives.

The results of this assignment have been drawn together in this unique presentation.

Take the time to explore each chapter, access the additional interviews, and watch out for a special report screening on Lateline tonight at 10.30pm on ABC 1.

You can also watch additional interviews by the experts cited in this series at:
www.abc.net.au/news/video/iraqis/interviews.html

note:
When you hear in this report that only 7,000 Iraqi children have enrolled in Jordan's public schools as a measure of how many Iraqis are in Jordan, please take into consideration that some children who missed years of schooling (either in Iraq as security plummeted and/or when they came to Jordan before Jordan opened its schools to Iraqis) never enrolled as they were too far behind to keep up with their peers. Some children also cannot attend school because they must work to support their families. Also, some drop out as it is not uncommon for Iraqi students to be bullied and abused by other students and sometimes even their teachers. This is especially true since tuition for private schools (not the same as US or other western private schools) is no longer paid for. Students accustomed to being treated better in the private schools are especially sensitive to the problems they face in some of the public schools. Many choose to drop out rather than endure this.

CRP Valentines Day Party - February 13 2010, Amman Jordan

CRP Partners with Iraq Solidarity Campaign - UK www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=8287770900

CRP is pleased to be associated with al-Thawra and Hussain Al-alaki in partnership with Iraq Solidarity Campaign. Iraq Solidarity Campaign is holding an on-auction of an original painting. Follow the link below to learn more and view the painting.

Ghosts of IraqThe ghosts fo Iraq, an original painting, will be given to the highest bidder! The

Ghosts of Iraq - painted by British soldier, Martin Webster is being auctioned off with proceeds going to Collateral RepairProject in Jordan who are providing aid and assistance to Iraqi Refugees.

www.iraqsolidaritycampaign.blogspot.com/

Ghosts of Iraq - painted by British soldier, Martin Webster is being auctioned off with proceeds going to Collateral Repair Project in Jordan. We are providing aid and assistance to Iraqi Refugees.

The poem below was written by a British-Iraqi veteran of WWI and submitted by Hussain Al-alaki and speaks as poignantly today as it did in 1920.

AFTERMATH by Siegfried Sassoon (1920)

Siegfried Sassoon 1920

HAVE you forgotten yet?...
For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...
Have you forgotten yet?...
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.

Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'

Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads--those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?

Have you forgotten yet?...
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.

Letter from Amman

“Collateral Damage” (a euphemism if ever there was one) doesn’t stop with the coalition’s last bomb, the draw-down of US troops or the so-called open elections in Iraq. It keeps on “giving” to its victims.

This week we witnessed the on-going effects when we visited three Iraqi refugee families struggling to cope with its damage in Amman, Jordan. Their days are filled with a constant search for affordable housing, medical treatment and just about anything needed to eke out a bare existence.

They invariably show us their thick but orderly files of papers, documents and medical reports from various government and Non-governmental agencies and medical providers they have visited, often many times, in fruitless attempts to get help as they are shuttled back and forth from one agency to another. When the power bill jumps from $28 a month to nearly $200, they, as refugees, have no recourse to complain or even ask for an explanation. When their UNHCR cash assistance is inexplicably stopped or delayed they must wait for bureaucracy to wend its slow, interminable path to ferret out the reason and, hopefully, when resumed, include missed payments.

Meanwhile the rent goes unpaid, the tab at the local grocery accumulates until it’s finally cut-off and the refrigerator and cupboards display bare shelves. Prescriptions for medications for diabetes, high-blood pressure (rampant among Iraqi refugees) go unfilled, there's no money to buy fuel to keep drafty homes warm; children go without meals.

One man tell us of his “heart clot” and his sky-rocketing electric bill. He pulls his medical report out of his file that delineates all the symptoms of PTSD: depression -- feelings of worthlessness, anger, panic attacks, insomnia. His sister shows us her prescription for an anti-depressant.

A widow and her seven children have gone all day, well into the late evening, without food because their cash assistance stopped, due to a bureaucratic glitch when she recently moved to more affordable housing. The house is cold, there is no water heater, no washing machine for the family of 8. She washes all clothes by hand but it is painful due to shrapnel left in her hands and arm from an American bomb on their house in Iraq. This bomb killed her 8 month old baby and the twin of one of her surviving children. The large shard of shrapnel in her left arm is a constant reminder of that tragic loss.

A pregnant Iraqi woman, facing an up-coming caesarian birth that will cost close to $2,000, is declined help from agency after agency, because she is married to a Palestinian. Her husband is refused help because he is married to an Iraqi. ” Their three children, one with Down’s Syndrome, do not qualify for UNHCR cash assistance because they are legally considered Palestinian. She and all three children have been diagnosed with calcium and vitamin deficiency. They survive on what her husband can earn part-time as a fill-in taxi driver and her cash assistance of $106 a month. When she appeals for help she is told “just thank God you receive anything. If you complain, you will lose even that.”

Similar stories are told time and after. Every agency, from UNHCR to Collateral Repair Project, from highest realms of officialdom to grassroots, suffers from dwindling funds while needs snowball into an avalanche. With the slogging on of the global economic crisis and public attention focused on Afghanistan and the disaster in Haiti, Iraqi refugees continue to cope with damages that have been all but forgotten.

Daily we are forced to make heart-breaking decisions as we listen to families detail a litany of needs, invariably for their children. Emergency Assistance and Milk for Kids has supplanted out Micro-projects, because of both funding cut-backs and because this is where the needs are most urgent.

Our work is a pittance in comparison to the overwhelming needs, but that makes it all the more vital as collateral damage keeps on taking from its unseen, unheard victims.

Questions Without Answers

Today we braved cold and blustery weather to visit the home of a family whose youngest child, Zahra'a, is now age 1 year. The family consists of the mother and father, ages 27 and 41 and one other child, Ali, age 6.

It was dark when we arrived, a crescent moon lighting the way down on a quiet lane where small clusters of children stopped their play to watch us pass. The family's apartment is off a busy commercial street in a poor neighborhood of Amman. The apartment is humble but clean and uncrowded. Zahra'a was sleeping when we arrived, but was roused for us when we left. She's chubby-cheeked and has dark, curly hair and a somber, bewildered look at waking to strangers in the house. Ali is a shy boy, small for his age, with tousled hair and a smile that needed some encouraging. The father was at the doctor when we visited. He suffers from a chronic kidney infection, including kidney stones and cystitis and requires frequent treatment and three different medications to try to control this painful ailment.

Because the mother has been unable to produce sufficient breast milk to properly nourish the baby, she has been receiving infant formula through CRP's Milk for Children program. Prior to that, the baby had been fed a diet of sugar water to supplement the small amount of breast milk she was able to produce. According to the children's doctor, Ali suffers from a calcium deficiency.

The children's mother had worked occasionally cleaning houses prior to giving birth, but now must stay home with the children. The 6 year old boy had been going to a private school, funded by Save the Children, but when UNHCR funding was cut, the organization could no longer provide for the child's tuition. The nearest public school is a long distance away, too far for a boy of 6 to walk to alone, and so he is no longer attending school. This is but one more example of how lack of UN funds cuts through every aspect and strata of life for Iraqi refugees.

Their UNHCR cash assistance is barely sufficient to pay rent, electricity and food. The husband's kidney medications are sometimes paid for by Red Cross or Caritas but usually comes out of their own pocket. Without the medications he is in excruciating pain, so this cost is another toll on their income.

Because Milk for Children provides formula for infants up to one year in age, we needed to make a plan for Zahra'a to transition to powdered milk, as well as provide powdered milk for the 6 year old. Switching from formula to powdered milk must be done gradually and we advised the mom on making sure to mix small amounts of powdered milk to the formula and gradually increase the amount. CRP will continue to provide infant formula for one more month through this transition, as well powdered milk for both children.

The husband's mother is currently visiting from Baghdad, having come to Jordan for treatment of an eye disease. Her vision is fuzzy and her sight is impaired by black spots. Apparently she requires eye surgery which will cost $1400, far beyond their meager income. She has a bachelor's degree in law and worked as a legal consultant prior to the invasion. Now she survives on a small pension. She described the current conditions in Baghdad as very bad, with many explosions, fear of going far from the house, and never at night when life virtually shuts down. She told what so many Iraqis have told us, that Iran has virtually taken over the country, that "there is no more Iraq." Our efforts to express our apologies for what the invasion and occupation has brought on the nation and people of Iraq was met with an emphatic statement that she doesn't blame the American people. "They demonstrated against it. But the government didn't listen." Then she asked a poignant but earnest question, "Why don't the American parents stand up and object to sending their children to war to die?" A hard question indeed and one that deserves a better answer than any we were able to give.

more photos:

year-end UPDATE

Dear Friend of CRP

Another year is coming to a close and it has been nearly 7 years that many Iraqis have been living in impoverished limbo in Jordan. The way things look now, most think that they will be in the same or worse situation a year from now. Although some have been resettled to third countries, many more are left behind, unable to return to Iraq because of death threats and home either destroyed or occupied by others. UNHCR estimates that there are approximately 54,000 registered as refugees - but many more do not register and every day more Iraqis find their way into Jordan or Syria, escaping the escalation of violence in some part of Iraq or seeking medical treatment they cannot get in Iraq.

They are still barred from working in Jordan and now, because of the shaky world economy, contributions from donor nations have plummeted and UNHCR and its NGO partners have been forced to cut back or eliminate essential aid programs Iraqis have relied on for their survival. Already suffering PTSD from the war and depressed because of their displacement, Iraqis are floundering, many wondering how they will survive. They all tell us "I am too tired" - they are exhausted from the constant struggle to get their basic needs met and from not being able to foresee an end to their problems. They are feeling frightened and vulnerable.

A few have risked return. One was my neighbor in Amman. I want to share some of his story with you.

Abu Ibrahim (pseudonym) is nearly 40 years old. He is well educated with two degrees and was successful in his profession until the US invasion. After 2003 his life turned upside down. He was married to a woman of another sect. As with most Iraqis, this was a non-issue before the war. But, with the rise in sectarian violence that was fostered by open borders with neighboring countries, no real police or police who were aligned with militias, and under the new, "elected" sectarian government, those in mixed marriages began receiving threats. His wife's family was concerned for her safety if she remained married to Abu Ibrahim and they divorced.

Abu Ibrahim tried to remain in Baghdad. He hoped to eventually find employment so he could support his son. He wanted to be near his elderly parents. But one night his door burst open and two men ran in. One was chasing the other, shooting at him and his shots dropped the other in front of Abu Ibrahim. The shooter fled and Abu Ibrahim began giving artificial respiration to try to save his life. He then carried the wounded man outside and hailed a taxi and took the critically wounded man to the hospital. This man was of a different sect than Abu Ibrahim and the hospital was under the control of militia of the same sect as the shooting victim. Abu Ibrahim stayed all night at the man's bedside, even giving blood for his transfusions. He told me he could not sleep, fearing he would be killed as the militia there were giving him threatening looks, but still he stayed at the side of this man whose fate was thrust so suddenly into his own. But the wounds were too severe and he died in the morning. Abu Ibrahim was allowed to leave the hospital but then his real problems began.

After a few days, some of the dead man's family members came to Abu Ibrahim, demanding monetary compensation. They assumed Abu Ibrahim had something to do with the shooting because their relative was shot in his house. When Abu Ibrahim refused to pay, they began to send death threats. Meanwhile, the militia that was responsible for the shooting of the dead man began to threaten him also because he had tried to save the man. Abu Ibrahim left his home and began moving around Baghdad, staying a few days at one relative's home but then moving to another's because of fear that those seeking him would harm his relatives as well as himself. Finally the pressure and fear became too much and Abu Ibrahim fled to Jordan.

He had only been in Amman a few months when I moved in next door to him. Already he was deliberating returning to Iraq and taking his chances despite the danger he would face. Every day would tell me "maybe in three days" or "maybe next week I will go" but it wasn't a decision to be made lightly. Finally he told me he'd decided to return and had set a date to go. I asked if this was wise and he replied, "What difference is it if I am killed there? I am already dead here. I have no life. All I do is sleep and eat and then walk the streets in the evening. I cannot work. I have nothing - no way to live, no way to support my son. My parents are ill. They need to see me before they die. So, yes, I am afraid but I must go home. I will die in Iraq rather than be dead while alive here" He left a few days later. I am happy to say that he is ok - I receive short e-mails from him now and then. I worry between.

I tell you Abu Ibrahim's story because it illustrates how this war has imposed unimaginable challenges into ordinary people's lives. It has torn families and formerly amiable communities apart. It has stripped people of their safety, their homes, their livelihoods, and careers. In exile, they enjoy freedom from the violence but they endure incredible hardships to pay for that freedom. It comes down to a choice between death or destitution. And now, with cutbacks in aid, that destitution is even deeper and more devastating than before.

Collateral Repair Project is there, responding to this crisis, in your name. It will be a challenging year as we try to meet some of the needs of those who have so little.

As always, we are so grateful for the support you've given to us in the past. We hope that you will continue that support so that we can help those in need. They need you now, more than ever.

We know many of you are struggling financially and are unable to give as freely as you have in the past. We hope that you'll continue to support us by telling others about us (please forward this UPDATE widely). Also, please read the report on how others are finding creative ways to help below.

CRP co-director, Mary Madsen, and I will return to Jordan on January 11th. We will be writing more stories of Iraqi refugees in Amman on our blog. We'll tell you about those you've helped and report on the deteriorating situation for Iraqi refugees in Jordan.

With gratitude and hope for a more peaceful and abundant New Year for us all,

Sasha Crow
- and the USA CRP Team: Mary, Marilyn & Karen

www.CollateralRepairProject.org
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