Dateline,
Mosul: Life After I.S.
Transcript
They were hostages, held by a band of fanatics who emerged from the
desert and captured their city.
KHALID WALEED, MUSICIAN (Translation): It is exactly as if those
three years were deleted from our lives. They were wiped out of our lives.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH, BEAUTICIAN (Translation): Our lives were so
suppressed. So many things were forbidden to us. They forbade us from doing
many things that we loved.
They lived in a terrifying world in which you could be flogged,
mutilated or even killed for the simple things that make you human – using a
mobile phone, smoking a cigarette, singing a song.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): They used to call them
distractions from prayers and worship and these things.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): Music is my life. I can never give it
up. No matter what!
Islamic State is gone, but it’s still not considered safe to stay in
Mosul overnight. I’ve been warned about kidnappings and I.S. sleeper cells. It
takes me up to three hours to get here each day from Erbil, in Iraqi
Kurdistan. The damage still looks so fresh.
It’s easy to savor the simple pleasures of
morning after the waking nightmare of life under I.S. It was the close
bond between Jumana Najim
Abdullah and her daughter that helped them survive.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): When I’d take my daughter
shopping, wearing burqas, according to the code they imposed on us, we would
see them slaughtering people on the streets. So you had to feel
terrified. I actually feel that the events made me stronger and more
independent but as far as I can see my daughter has become more fearful.
Despite 45 degree heat every part of the female body had to be covered –
even the eyes. I spoke to one woman who didn’t leave her house for over
two years. It was especially tough for a single mum like Jumana
- women weren’t allowed outside without a male escort.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): One time I was walking in the
market. They held me forcibly and said, “Why are you alone? Where’s
the male guardian?” A man was passing by. I said “He’s my uncle.” He
didn’t deny it. He said “My niece. We’re together.”
Jumana treasures the
independence that comes from running her own business. She’s the proud owner of
this beauty salon… But in a world where women were punished for wearing
the color red, it’s no surprise that beauticians were
banned.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): As far as I see it, beauty is
a form of distinctiveness. They didn't want anyone to be distinct, especially
not women, they didn’t want women to be distinctive. So the ugly woman who
doesn’t look after herself or her beauty and who is neglectful of herself, to
them is the perfect woman.
To ensure that she and her daughter didn’t starve, Jumana
defied IS by working from home in secret. But she did get caught once by the
morality police.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): Close your eyes. Don't open
them.
She was going to be whipped using a cable that had metal spikes at the
end and forbidden from screaming. But once again, Jumana’s
quick thinking helped her.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): The woman who was to flog me
had thick eyebrows, and her face wasn’t done properly, so I made a suggestion
to her. I said “It's okay you’ll flog me but I can still do your face and look
after you.” So she was convinced and I did her face and so on and, praise
be to God, she said “I won’t flog you.”
I have seen many women who would say, “I hate…”, frankly, they would say
“I've hated Islam. If this is Islam, I am willing to change my
religion.” I have met many young women who said this and they were
adamant about it. “If Islam is like this, I don't want to be a
Muslim.” Many girls and women said this. “If this is Islam, I will leave
it. I don't think that this is Islam.
The years of brutality have left their mark – especially on her
daughter.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): She’s scared of everything.
Whenever there’s shooting – gunshots, or even fireworks – she gets scared and
asks, “Mum are they coming back?”. She's become very fearful. Even
now she still is.
I’m comfortable now. But fully happy as I was before, I don’t think I
can be. The city is in ruins. There are scenes that have planted
fear in our hearts. Sometimes when I go to bed, I’m chased by nightmares.
I dream I’m still living under I.S. I’m walking around in a burqa, or
I’ve forgotten it and the Morality Police will punish me. Even in my sleep I’m
frightened.
There’s barely any treatment for post-traumatic stress here, just a
relentless struggle to get by. On the east bank of the Tigris, Jumana and Mariam have a new chance to unwind.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): It’s the first time I’m here
after the events, it has been three years or maybe more. I wanted to come to
this place that I was deprived of. I feel that a heavy burden has been
lifted, that I can go out, do what I want and be free and comfortable.
They’re here to see a puppet show for Mosul’s kids, which was written
and directed by Khalid – the musician we met earlier. It would be an
ordinary enough undertaking anywhere else, but in Mosul – where the performing
arts were banned under I.S. – this is truly ground-breaking.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): We are here today as the Mosul Youth
group. We’re having a rehearsal just now and we’ll be ready for the performance
shortly. Our message today… most of our messages are directed at kids.
What happened to the city hurt the kids the most.
My dear friends, please step back so that everyone can see.
Mosul has always been a very conservative city, and to begin with,
Islamic State enjoyed a lot of support here. But many people are fed up with
extremism – and children like Mariam are once again being encouraged to dream.
PUPPET SHOW:
PUPPET (Translation): Do you know who will serve the country?
PUPPET 2 (Translation): Who?
PUPPET (Translation): Me.
PUPPET 2 (Translation): How?
PUPPET (Translation): When I grow up, I will study architectural
engineering. I will be a successful structural engineer and I will
rebuild the buildings and the schools destroyed by war.
JUMANA NAJIM ABDULLAH (Translation): Seeing Mariam happy
today? I like this feeling actually. It’s been so long since my
daughter had a change or saw such things.
MARIAM (Translation): My God! He’s my darling. He’s smart and
cute. I hold my darling close.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): I felt the children’s
happiness. We felt their happiness and this is our mission. In our
society there are people in our society who were born, and have lived and died,
without ever seeing live music, without ever having seen theatre.
Until recently, even dropping round to a friend’s house to play some
music was unthinkable. Apart from religious singing, all music was banned under
I.S. Teaching himself to play in secret, Khalid Waleed found solace in
music – but it was also an act of rebellion against the nihilism of I.S.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): As much as possible I used to block
the doors and the windows.
REPORTER: What could have happened if someone had heard you?
KHALID WALEED (Translation): You could be subjected to
flogging. That was the least that might happen. It could reach up
to 100 lashes or more, but mainly you could expect to be killed.
REPORTER: Very nice!
KHALID WALEED (Translation): Thank you. Sometimes when I play the
oud have some noise, you heard this sound?
His instrument is a scarred survivor, a bit like Mosul itself.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): And ah it have much damage.
This one…
REPORTER: The cracks.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): Two, three four!
It’s hard to imagine that something so beautiful and so harmless could
put your life at risk – and even endanger your family.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): My father and my mother
always wanted me to stop playing. “Stop, give up music. It’s not the right
time. You’ll cause us problems. You’ll get us arrested.” But
I couldn’t. I tried to quit. I put the oud away. I’d put the
oud away for hours, only to bring it out again.
Most evenings, Khalid hangs out with his friend, Mustafa – a famous
Iraqi poet, and keen chef.
REPORTER: Do all Iraqi men cook this well?
MUSTAFA: No – I’m the only one! Me, Mustafa al- Hamdani.
Without fear – they talk openly about extremism… and now do it as loudly
as they like.
MUSTAFA (Translation): In the name of religion, in the name of
religion they came. And in the name of religion, they slaughtered us.
Tell me, what this religion is? Give us a break. You badly distorted the
image of God, I.S. came, left and died.
Hell, graveyards and death, you’ve made everything dark.
REPORTER: Do you think this is a different city now, to the
one it was three years ago?
KHALID WALEED (Translation): The city has changed. Perhaps some
people continue to be fearful. They’ve become fearful, they keep thinking
that I.S. still exists, they still keep the same old social customs of “No,
this is forbidden, it’s shameful, it’s forbidden”. But I can see that the
youth have changed and…
MUSTAFA (Translation): They’re more educated.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): Exactly they’ve become more educated
and they offer a lot to the city. So everyone will see the youth and will
be influenced by them - the old, even the children. So we’ll see a better
future for the city.
Behind this roller door is where Khalid practices his other creative
outlet.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): It's one of my hobbies. Just as I
like music, I like cutting hair. I enjoy it when I cut someone's hair. No one
has ever told me, “This is what you have to do.” I learnt it by myself.
Only one hair style was allowed. Anything that might express
individuality or attract female attention was forbidden.
REPORTER: Could you cut someone's hair like this last year?
KHALID WALEED (Translation): No, actually we couldn’t. There were
laws stating that hair had to be of equal length, the same style all
over. So we couldn't have two steps, light here and heavy here. No, that
was forbidden we weren't allowed to. We couldn't do that. Some would be
like, “Give me this haircut, I won't tell.” And he would be a spy for I.S, so if
you gave him the haircut, he'd report you, as they were spies.
This is my picture with a beard under I.S. rule. It was a full beard. I
like a beard but I like it to be defined and trimmed. But that was
prohibited. I look like so ugly in this picture. I hate but… I
don’t like this photo but I’m keeping it as a painful reminder. I will keep it.
The beard came off the day after liberation, when men were finally free
to walk around clean shaven.
REPORTER: What was it like when you could finally cut hair the way
you wanted to?
KHALID WALEED (Translation): I had forgotten how to cut hair. I
started cutting his hair and trying to remember… “What do I do next?” But
it turned out all right. I didn't ruin his hair.
The battle for Mosul laid waste to large parts of the city, killing
thousands of its residents. When I visit West Mosul, I.S. - made its last
stand, I can still smell the rotting corpses in the rubble. Most of the people
who lived here are now sheltering in camps outside the city, unsure when
they'll be able to return.
Recovering would be slow but in East Mosul, which was liberated first,
life is pretty much back to normal. Khalid and his fellow musicians can carry
their instruments openly for the first time in years. After liberation, Khalid
formed a band with three friends. Even cafes were forbidden under I.S. so
everybody here today is relishing new-found freedoms. Mosul is at the centre of
Iraq's explosive ethnic and religious divides.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): Now, we are present everywhere in the
city. We play freely at the university and on the streets and we usually
create flash mobs on the streets and people are very keen to watch.
Mosul is at the centre of Iraq’s explosive ethnic and religious divides
– it’s a majority Sunni city that’s home to many minorities, in a country
dominated by Shia. It was these divisions that opened the door to Islamic State
here…
KHALID WALEED (Translation): One, two three.
But today Khalid's band is warming up for a festival promoting tolerance
and reconciliation.
REPORTER: Are you excited to perform today?
HAKAM: Yeah! Of course. Of course. It's a big thing today,
like one of the biggest festivals that's happened in Mosul from a long time
ago. We didn't have like such a huge festival and this powerful meaning. So we
are going to play a piece which is called Peace at the Peace Festival.
As the band does a sound check, thousands of people wait to be allowed
inside. The atmosphere is electric. Under I.S. crowds were only permitted for
prayers or public executions. Security is tight, though. Peace in Iraq is
always fragile and there are fears IS could still launch terrorist attacks.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): There was a war and it
ended. The soldiers played a role in this war. We are a different type of
soldier. We are the future of the new Mosul, the future of the new Mosul.
I.S. came, left and died. We will revive whatever died in this city.
We’ll revive it, God willing, through art, through painting... through all
types of Arts.
SPEAKER (Translation): We don’t have an opening speech but a
success story, despite this city being presented in the media as destroyed,
ruined and ill-fated. True, the city has been through war but we will
rebuild Mosul.
I'm the only foreigner to hear these optimistic messages of peace but I
can't stick around to watch Khalid's band perform. Ironically, I have to leave
because this city of peace is still considered dangerous after dark.
REPORTER: Khalid, I'm very sorry but we have to go. I have to go.
I'm not going to be able to see you play because it's getting so late. I have
to leave a peace festival in order to be safe.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): I hope you see safety all the time.
REPORTER: I hope you are safe and I hope
you have peace here in Mosul. It was lovely meeting you. Peace.
KHALID WALEED (Translation): Thank you.
reporter/producer
amos roberts
story producers
meggie palmer
joel tozer
fixer
hawras k yassen
story editor
simon phegan
david potts
researchers
amanda copp
jarni blakkarly
original music
vicki hansen
14th November 2017