Mosul, One Year On From ISIL - A Personal Reflection


By Caelin Briggs, Senior Policy Advisor for Conflict and Displacement

A year ago today, I was standing in the shattered remains of Mosul city.

The once vibrant western part of the city was reduced to rubble. Almost everywhere I looked I saw homes and historic monuments damaged or destroyed. The rare buildings still standing were scarred from bullets, mortars or black halos from fire.

During three years of violence bridges were blown up to stop residents from leaving the city. Blockades were raised to slow the flow of civilians, so gunmen could attack. Children’s lives were upended.

Omar was just 11 years old when his family bravely decided to flee in July last year. He was packing his bags, excited he might soon play football again. A bomb hit his home without warning, and he lost his leg while his older brother, Ahmed, suffered brain damage from a piece of shrapnel that lodged in his skull.

They were lucky to survive.

My friends in Iraq attended classes within the historic walls of Mosul University, now a towering skeleton. That was before the war when they had dreams of becoming doctors, translators and engineers. All of those dreams were put on hold.

A year ago, walking through the empty streets in west Mosul, what struck me was how quiet the neighbourhood was. About 750,000 people had been able to flee in the months leading up to the battle to retake the last sections of the city from ISIL. It was the longest urban battle since World War Two and it’s estimated more than 9000 civilians were killed.

In mid-July 2017, the Government of Iraq announced that Mosul had been fully retaken from ISIL. The youth were elated – beards were shaved and burqas removed, small acts of rebellion after three years of living under ISIL control.


A year later, I’m in Australia while Mosul is a city divided. Colleagues tell me many of the internally displaced people are returning and in the east of the city, markets are again bustling and thriving. Children still struggle with the lasting effects of war, but at least they are back in school. However, there aren’t enough teachers or supplies.

Yet, to the west, the scale of destruction is overwhelming, with UN Habitat estimating eight million tonnes of debris remain in the city. Families are clearing rubble by hand, and many returned to find their homes booby-trapped. Explosive devices were placed underneath toilet seats and children’s toys. This is the aftermath that Australians don’t see… injuries and deaths that continue to occur months and even years afterwards. The level of contamination from explosive hazards is so high that experts report it could take a decade to clear.


We can’t expect families to get by on their own. Now more than ever, people need equipment, investment and money for reconstruction. Children need help dealing with the psychological effects of war. Humanitarian agencies like World Vision are providing clean water, food and helping rebuild schools. We’re even having to teach children to avoid unexploded mines in their homes and playgrounds.

The Australian Government has pledged $110 million over three years for Mosul, but all governments can and should do more to help families recover. The UN estimates restoring Mosul’s basic infrastructure alone will cost more than $1 billion.

The city’s two million past and current residents still need our help. We owe it to children like Omar and Ahmed to not forget them. The war might be over but the troubles remain.


Published on TenDaily, July 19, 2018


PICTURE:  Ahmed, pictured left, suffered brain damage from shrapnel and Omar lost his leg after a bomb hit their Mosul home in July 2017, shortly before the city was liberated.

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