Eighteen Years On, Halabjans Still Suffering

Osman Mohammed cannot handle sitting in a dusty or smoky environment for long. Doing so sets off a cough, a deep hacking that he has carried for years.



Doctors have told Mohammed, a 25-year-old university graduate who is unemployed, that he should not do any physical labour because it strains his lungs and body. He went blind briefly, but after trips to Tehran and Switzerland for medical treatment, he has regained his eyesight.



It is the coughing, however, that Mohammed says has ruined his life.



Mohammed is one of tens of thousands of victims of a chemical-weapon attack on the town of Halabja by Saddam Hussein’s forces in March 1988 - a crime that came to symbolise the former regime’s brutality towards the Kurds.



An estimated 5,000 people were killed and 10,000 injured in the attack, which occurred during the Iran-Iraq war. Although the Iraqi military claimed Iran carried out the attack, residents say that it was Iraqi military planes that dropped sarin, tabun, mustard gas, and VX on Halabja, which is nestled at the base of a mountain range separating the two countries.



Eighteen years later, thousands of survivors still suffer. Residents of Halabja, whose population was about 40,000 in 1988 and 80,000 today, have increased cancer rates, infertility, miscarriages and deformities, according to studies conducted by the Halabja Medical Institute. Studies also show that survivors widely suffer from respiratory diseases such as chronic dyspnea, which makes breathing difficult.



Some of the worst cases, such as residents who were blinded by the chemicals, were treated in Iran and western countries. But many who bear the long-term effects of the attacks say they experience discomfort on a daily basis, and that there are few resources to help them.



Parwin Mohammed, 56, coughed as she told her story.



"I have suffered from this for the last 15 years," she said. "I cannot sleep at night because I am suffocating. I can't walk for long periods of time. Physicians say it cannot be cured and it is the effect of the chemical bombing."



Parwin's husband died of cancer seven years after the attack, and the family believes his illness was related to the bombardment. Parwin's four children also suffer from respiratory diseases.



"I was 12 years old when I was hit by the chemicals. All of my body was burned and I went blind," recounted Jwan Mohammed, Parwin's 30-year-old daughter.



She spent three months in the United States after the attack and regained her sight.



In March 2005, Narmin Osman, a Kurd and the Iraqi environment minister, said a medical centre was needed to help treat the survivors. She also said a laboratory was required to examine the town's soil.



But nothing has been done yet – and Halabja residents said they are fed up with talking to the media and officials because they believe it is in vain.



Hardawan Ahmed, a physician at Halabja's main hospital, told IWPR that 600 people have been registered as having respiratory diseases - specifically a disease called Fibros Alveolitis.



Ahmed said that only 250 of them have undergone thorough examination because the hospital is short on medical supplies.



"The patients must be treated equally without concern about the difference of their ages," he said.



Because medical treatments are not widely available in the town, last year the anti-chemical weapons society in Halabja in cooperation with the Kurdistan Regional Government's health ministry started a programme to send those with critical conditions abroad for treatment.



Aras Abid, head of the society, said that around 223 people have been registered for treatment abroad, but thus far only eight have received such medical care - and some of those claim it was inadequate.



Kamil Mahmud, who spent a week in Austria, said, “Some of us needed respiratory surgery, but the regional government was unwilling to cover the expense of our stay, so we didn't receive treatment. They just diagnosed our disease."



Parwin, like many, believe the local authorities have made empty promises to victims.



"The Kurdish officials … have done nothing for us," she said. "Talking is useless."



Ismail Osman is an IWPR trainee journalist in Halabja.