Kurdistan cities and I are very much in love

By: Rayan Swar Sulaiman

Kirkuk is much more than suffering and oil

I first came to Kirkuk on a work trip in 2022. My November started in this city. While in Kirkuk, I noticed how the street lights took forever to change colors and looking for hope. The busy young lady from Erbil (me) was dying three times over to wait for the light to change on a busy street, where just making a run for it was not an option.

When driving in Kirkuk , typically, you are allowed to go 90 km/h between cities . Except that every single time, there is this one person in front whose car just refuses to go faster than 70 km/h.

The people

I was there, in Kirkuk for an Educational project with Mercy Hands organization and UNICEF, the individuals I met were from institutions and schools, some Arabs, few Turkman and Kurds, I myself felt happy to see the diversity of a city in one hall reflecting almost the whole nation.

As my project was about Getting back Girls to Education and there enrollment away from political conflicts in the area . In the meeting hall I looked around at the faces and all I saw was hope . They were sitting there, not just waiting for us to deliver a training, but as if they were waiting for their sadness to slip away. I felt deeply sad when they provided me with heartbreaking examples of why girls are dropping out of school in Kirkuk? , I made sure to state everything they are telling me with all my attention , but deep down my heart dropped. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. Here, in the middle of a modernized world , in one of the richest cities with natural resources in Iraq , you had people drowning in their own sorrow, dying for lack of opportunities and hope .

But the questions kept beating at my heart:

How can I give hope to someone who feels hopeless?

How can I give hope to someone who has suffered more than I have?

How can I help someone cheer up when I’ve never seen the darkness that they’ve seen?

In the midst of my thoughts, a little light arose in my heart. I can’t always understand everyone, where they come from, or what they’ve suffered. That’s a given. I can’t see the world as they see it. I can’t solve every problem.

But there’s one thing I can give.

I can show that some people care. That they’re not alone in the world. That someone is not oblivious to their wounds and their pain. That someone loves them and values them as a person away from the political party they support and away from the language they speak. That there’s hope because some individuals work with passion for them, because someone loves, because someone wants to help, to help them live, to help them thrive.

See you again Kirkuk, With Hope!