"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
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 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.
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.
“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.
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.
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 CLICK HERETO DONATE NOW
Collateral Repair Project cannot thank George enough for his contribution to our projects in Amman. We attribute George's talents and effort largely with the success of the Art & Performance Camp for Kids living in the impoverished Jabal al-Nasr area of Amman. Thank you, George!
On December 30, 2002 I left Iraq after spending two weeks in Baghdad with a delegation of peace activists organized by Voices in the Wilderness. I have not returned to Iraq since. But my concern for the Iraqi people remains as strong as ever. Looking for a way to renew my connection with a people and a culture I have grown to love and admire, I contacted Sasha Crow, founder of the Collateral Repair Project. Collateral Repair Project accepted my offer to join them in Amman and work as a volunteer.
On August 9, 2009, nearly seven years since my last trip to the Middle East, I arrived at the Queen Alia Airport in Amman, Jordan. From there, I took a bus into the city and then a taxi to Sasha’s former neighborhood in Jebel al-Nasser. She had prepared a home-cooked meal for the two of us to share as we made plans for the first day of a children’s art and culture camp. The camp was intended to bring together Iraqi, Palestinian, and Jordanian children for two weeks of creative activities. It was a joint effort of Collateral Repair Project and International Relief & Development, an NGO with offices in Amman.
Working with Omar, an Iraqi volunteer with CRP, and a team of dedicated assistants, Sasha and I launched our program the following day. Over the next two weeks, we organized a wonderful mix of hands on art activities for the children. They created their own papier-mâché masks,
drew portraits of each other, and even made a pair of treat-filled piñatas.
I led the children in creative movement exercises.
In addition, I told Arabic folktales to the children, and directed them in a dramatic enactment of a traditional tale.
For the final day of our summer camp, the children’s families were invited to come to the Women’s Center where the camp was held. After viewing a display of the art work, they watched their children perform on stage. During the show, the children wore the colorful masks they had worked so hard to create. Many of them also used the paper puppets they made for their characters in the play. As a final celebration, the children gathered around their piñatas (one piñata at a time!) and gave them enough good whacks to break them open.
Helping to run the camp was only part of what I did with Collateral Repair Project. In the evenings, Sasha and Omar introduced me to some of the Iraqi refugee families CRP has been assisting. For me, these meetings were the heart and soul of my time in Amman.
I had come to Jordan hoping to hear the stories of what these families had endured in Iraq and what their lives were like in Amman. Upon returning to the U.S., I planned to share these stories, through articles and talks, in order to raise awareness of the consequences of the U.S. invasion and occupation. Thanks to CRP, I was able to meet quite a number of families from a variety of backgrounds. For this entry, I would like to recount one such meeting as an example of the very high price these families have had to pay and of the good work CRP is doing. The text is from my journal, which I kept up the whole time I was in Amman. (I have not used the real names of all of the family members.)
Tonight we visited another family whom CRP has assisted. The family is Assyrian and comes from Baghdad, although their roots are in Anbar, which is north of the capital. James met us on the street that runs past his building, and then took us up a short flight of stairs to his family’s apartment. His sister Shemiron and his elderly mother Hajia were sitting in the front room watching TV. CRP, through donations, was able to purchase a prosthetic leg for James’s sister.
James calls Sasha his sister. His mother considers Sasha her daughter. Hajia is only 81 but she looks much older. After her husband died, she had to raise their children by herself. In Iraq the family lived in an area of Baghdad where many Iraqi Christians once lived before they were driven from their homes.
The family has successfully completed all their interviews with IOM (the International Organization for Migration) and expects to be resettled in the state of New York. But they don’t know when their plane tickets will arrive. Their home is practically bare of furniture. A few decorative items adorn the walls. In the parlor, there are some Christian iconic images along with paintings of English royalty. James’s mother named her two sons after British kings. The namesake of one of her daughters was a British queen.
At one point during our conversation, James said all they have left is Jesus. Everything else in their lives has been taken away from them. He spat out the name of Saddam Hussein and, stretching out his arm, shouted, “Go to Hell! He destroyed everything.”
James did agree that under Saddam, Christian minorities were safer and not likely to be persecuted, but still discrimination did exist. Before the war in 2003, he and his non-Christian neighbors were friends. But after the war, everything changed. People threatened him, told him to leave Iraq or they would kill him.
Last fall in Baghdad, while shopping in the market, James’s sister Shemiron became the victim of a car bombing. She had to have part of her right leg amputated. She also lost hearing in her right ear. She had been a secondary school teacher for 27 years. Her subject was mathematics. Several of her students were killed from the same bomb that disabled her for life. Shrapnel tore into her body. She pulled up the left leg of her trousers and showed us several deep scars from the shrapnel. While brother and sister described this tragic event, their mother Hajia, with a look of such deep sadness, openly wept for her daughter’s pain and suffering.
Shemiron spent 3 weeks in a hospital in Baghdad. Surgeons amputated the lower part of her leg but left a bony stump. In November, about a month after the bombing, the family left for Jordan. In Amman, Shemiron received a heavy prosthetic leg, which she and Sasha refer to as the “dinosaur.” It hurts her to wear it. Now she has a lighter prosthetic which she saves for special occasions like going to church. Shemiron is afraid it will be damaged on the many broken steps and fractured pavements in Amman. She knows it is strong and durable, but it has become so important to her that she doesn’t want to take any unnecessary risks with it. Around the house, she wears a third prosthetic. This one doesn’t fit well and causes her unrelenting pain.
When CRP staff first met her, Shemiron never went outside and, without a prosthetic, crawled from room to room, becoming more and more depressed. Now her mood has brightened considerably, and she was able to talk freely with us. She showed us photos of her former students, her colleagues, and even her college graduating class.
James smoked furiously while an Assyrian TV station showed the carnage from yesterday’s car bombings in Mosul and Baghdad. He changed the channel. The screen came alive with Assyrian singers and musicians performing while young people did traditional dances. Pointing to the television, James said, “This our people. This our music, our dances.” Tears filled his eyes. It was this moment, perhaps more than any other, that gave me a deeper sense of what it means to be separated from one’s homeland, one’s culture, and one’s family, and to face an almost unbearably uncertain future.
James had been an agricultural engineer in Baghdad after graduating from Baghdad University. He showed us his transcript and proudly pointed to his grades. He hopes this document will improve his chances in the U.S., and wanted to know if he would be able to advance himself there. I recalled my own family and how my grandfather had come from Italy with nothing. By the time I was in high school, my own parents had advanced far beyond my father’s family. This seemed to offer some assurance to Edward whose love for his aged mother was so evident throughout our stay. He often stood by her side as she sat on the sofa with hands folded in her lap, and touched her ever so gently while thanking God for keeping her alive.
When it was time for Sasha and me to leave, James followed us down an unlit stairway and along an alley to the street. Like a good shepherd, he watched over us until a taxi stopped and took us home.
Please take a moment to vote for us...and the Iraqis we serve Thank you!
There is a $1000 award for the nominee with the most votes. We would like to be able to win this award to use toward providing more much needed assistance to Iraqi refugees. We can, with your help!
IMPORTANT INFO: The voting site will ask you for your e-mail address because it will send you a confirmation e-mail to assure that you will only vote once.
The site will also ask you for a password - NOTE: It is NOT asking you for your personal e-mail password. You can create a unique password to use on the voting site so that you can leave comments about the nominees
Please leave comments! Since you know and support CRP your comments about our work are valuable in letting others know about us
The Collateral Repair Project is a grassroots movement, created to address the
catastrophic displacement of the five million Iraqis who had to leave behind their homes
and communities because of the violence and instability that is the result of the invasion
and occupation of their country.
We bring together the small, overlooked, incidental persons on both sides of the conflict
who grieve and ask: What can we do?
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