Living though the ISIS take over of Kirkuk

 Published: July 9, 2024

AMMAN, Jordan (AP) — On a quiet day during the Eid al-Adha celebration, I arrived at Maxim Mall, a part of Jordan I had never seen before. In a restaurant marked with yellow tables and orange chairs, covered with dirt and crayon markings, I sat with Raad Hendi, 32, born in Kirkuk City, Iraq, 172.8 km from Mosul.

Raad’s early life was typical for a boy in Iraq. He attended high school and college, earning a degree in medical analysis and a Ph.D. in pharmacy in under six years. He worked hard for the status of “Dr.,” a title that would later save his life.

Raad’s Christian faith played a significant role in his life. Despite frequent verbal persecution from the Muslim majority, he surrounded himself with friends of all beliefs.

Raad expressed anger toward those who benefited from the ISIS takeover since 2003. The country, divided by Shia and Sunni factions, saw war expand to Christian persecution. He explained how ISIS demanded higher taxes from Christians.

In June 2014, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi declared the beginning of the Islamic caliphate, directly impacting thousands of innocent people. ISIS infiltrated Mosul under the pretense of freeing the state from American invasion. “But it was all lies,” recalled Raad.

Living near the invasion’s epicenter, Raad felt the war’s effects firsthand. As tensions rose between Shia and Sunni groups, laws became less enforced. “People started to kill people and assault women… they slaughtered a lot of people,” said Raad.

ISIS briefly took control of Kirkuk, leaving a lasting mental impact on Raad. Leaving the house was not an option. “Every day we would live on the edge, wondering if today would be our last,” he recalled.

During the two-year occupation, the Hendi family received a threatening letter, beginning with, “I know where you live and where you work,” with no signature or address. The family felt targeted, as none of their Muslim neighbors received similar letters.

Hearing stories like this can only be understood to a certain degree if you haven't experienced something similar. Understanding the mental state of survivors is crucial for real empathy. We talked for over two hours, and Raad explained that he had to shut down any space for emotion, reason, or fear to survive. “You could not get out, you could not do anything. It was a difficult two days…we went a lifetime with these kinds of situations, and if you think about it too much, you will lose your mind.”

Raad and his family left Iraq in 2018. The initial arrival in Jordan was smooth, but UN assistance waned once they were on Jordanian soil. Basic rights are not granted to refugees protected by the UN, but support from the church helps the family scrape by. They cannot work, so they volunteer and serve other refugees. Raad uses his medical experience to provide care for others.

“Here is safe, they have the law, Jordan is a cool country, but we cannot stay here. Six years of life, frozen,” Raad said.

Despite the struggles in Jordan, Raad found them minuscule compared to the darkness of war. “When you see surface-level problems, you realize how small they are, so easy to resolve.”

Every day passes with Raad’s eyes on Australia, but without UN permission, that goal remains a dream. Raad believes the media downplays the war's harsh realities but agrees it portrays the people as ignorant.

In the odd mall, Raad wore a resilient smile and told me about an Iraqi restaurant I should try. It was comforting to know he had a piece of his culture in this new land.