Baghdad Beauty Salons Back in Business
Once the target of extremists, beauty shops are slowly re-opening in the capital.
Baghdad Beauty Salons Back in Business
Once the target of extremists, beauty shops are slowly re-opening in the capital.
In the heart of al-Salihiya, the most stable neighbourhood in Baghdad, a large sign reads, “Rasha’s Salon for Women”.
The salon is just four months old, a symbol of a new, more secure Baghdad. Business is buzzing, particularly after the owner, Rasha Amin, 28, advertised her salon with flyers and got neighbouring shop owners to help drum up trade.
“My dream was to open a famous hairdressing salon,” said Amin, a college graduate who used to style her younger sisters’ hair for fun. “Now, I am fulfilling my dream.”
For Amin, timing was everything. As security was ramped up in Baghdad, she convinced her father that it was safe to open her salon – a risky venture not only financially, but also because extremists continue to pose a threat, despite a government crackdown.
Fundamentalists who view salons as anti-Islamic have threatened and killed hairstylists throughout Iraq over the past several years. Just eight months ago, a hairdresser was murdered in the northern city of Mosul. Salons have been blown up, and many of their staff have moved to the safer Kurdish areas of northern Iraq or left the country altogether.
But improved security in Baghdad has given many women the confidence to re-open their beauty businesses, particularly in wealthier areas, such as al-Mansur.
“I’m very proud that I’ve built my clientele,” said Amin, who employs two young women as assistants at the shop.
Munira Saad has known more difficult times.
The 37-year-old from the Adhamiya district recently re-opened her salon which had been closed for nine months because of the security situation. Though business now isn’t quite what it was, she is grateful to have a shop.
Last year, Saad, who dyes her hair blonde, made house calls to clients, hiding her supplies under an abbaya, a black cloak covering her from head to toe.
“I went out risking my life,” she said. But now her concerns are more prosaic, such as getting air conditioning for her shop and getting hold of additional staff when business picks up.
A police officer at a checkpoint 20 metres from Saad’s salon said security forces in the area are watching out for residents and local businesses.
“We’ve noticed many women coming to the salon, and the teenagers have harassed them,” said the policeman, who spoke on customary condition of anonymity. “But no one dares to threaten or shoot them. We are here to safeguard all of the people.”
As in much of the world, Iraqi women head to salons to prepare for special occasions, such as weddings.
On a hot summer morning, Zainab Walid, 27, flipped through a hair magazine as she waited for an appointment with a stylist at a salon on Palestine Street in eastern Baghdad.
Her cousin was getting married, and Walid said it was important that she and her female relatives – who joined her at the salon – looked “neat and elegant”.
“A year ago, we lived in a nightmare because of the threats we received from the fundamentalists and armed militias,” she said.
“Life is difficult,” said Muna Hussein, a 24-year-old who visited a Baghdad salon in preparation for her graduation ceremony at al-Mustansiriya university. “But it deserves to be lived.”
Duraed Salman and Nasr Khadhim are IWPR-trained journalists in Baghdad.
The salon is just four months old, a symbol of a new, more secure Baghdad. Business is buzzing, particularly after the owner, Rasha Amin, 28, advertised her salon with flyers and got neighbouring shop owners to help drum up trade.
“My dream was to open a famous hairdressing salon,” said Amin, a college graduate who used to style her younger sisters’ hair for fun. “Now, I am fulfilling my dream.”
For Amin, timing was everything. As security was ramped up in Baghdad, she convinced her father that it was safe to open her salon – a risky venture not only financially, but also because extremists continue to pose a threat, despite a government crackdown.
Fundamentalists who view salons as anti-Islamic have threatened and killed hairstylists throughout Iraq over the past several years. Just eight months ago, a hairdresser was murdered in the northern city of Mosul. Salons have been blown up, and many of their staff have moved to the safer Kurdish areas of northern Iraq or left the country altogether.
But improved security in Baghdad has given many women the confidence to re-open their beauty businesses, particularly in wealthier areas, such as al-Mansur.
“I’m very proud that I’ve built my clientele,” said Amin, who employs two young women as assistants at the shop.
Munira Saad has known more difficult times.
The 37-year-old from the Adhamiya district recently re-opened her salon which had been closed for nine months because of the security situation. Though business now isn’t quite what it was, she is grateful to have a shop.
Last year, Saad, who dyes her hair blonde, made house calls to clients, hiding her supplies under an abbaya, a black cloak covering her from head to toe.
“I went out risking my life,” she said. But now her concerns are more prosaic, such as getting air conditioning for her shop and getting hold of additional staff when business picks up.
A police officer at a checkpoint 20 metres from Saad’s salon said security forces in the area are watching out for residents and local businesses.
“We’ve noticed many women coming to the salon, and the teenagers have harassed them,” said the policeman, who spoke on customary condition of anonymity. “But no one dares to threaten or shoot them. We are here to safeguard all of the people.”
As in much of the world, Iraqi women head to salons to prepare for special occasions, such as weddings.
On a hot summer morning, Zainab Walid, 27, flipped through a hair magazine as she waited for an appointment with a stylist at a salon on Palestine Street in eastern Baghdad.
Her cousin was getting married, and Walid said it was important that she and her female relatives – who joined her at the salon – looked “neat and elegant”.
“A year ago, we lived in a nightmare because of the threats we received from the fundamentalists and armed militias,” she said.
“Life is difficult,” said Muna Hussein, a 24-year-old who visited a Baghdad salon in preparation for her graduation ceremony at al-Mustansiriya university. “But it deserves to be lived.”
Duraed Salman and Nasr Khadhim are IWPR-trained journalists in Baghdad.
