UNkindest cut of all

 By Rashidah Shuib
 17 April 2000

 IRAQ never figured in the countries that I dreamt of visiting. But my
 recent journey there began with a very unexpected e-mail and a
 phone call which simply stated that my name was in the list of 10
 women to go on a "goodwill visit to Iraq". Judging from the laughter
 at the other end of the phone, I must have sounded too surprised.

 For someone who has no problem with words, I was suddenly lost for
 something to say. Without thinking too much about it, I accepted
 the invitation. Suddenly, the prospect of going to Iraq held
 adventure, excitement and mystery.

 I had visited poor countries before but I had never been to a
 country under sanctions or a war-torn country. Yes, I'd read reports
 and seen videos on the impact of the Gulf War and the
 comprehensive economic sanctions on Iraq but the stark reality does
 not strike deep enough until one has been there.As much as I told
 myself to be psychologically prepared, I wasn't.

 The visit to the Al-Amiriah shelter in Baghdad shocked me. The
 gaping hole where missiles went through during the war now brought
 shafts of light from the world outside. But it was the same hole
 which brought death to more than 400 who were mostly children.
 Their bodies were burnt or boiled beyond recognition. What was left
 were little handprints on the ceiling or on the walls. Eight or seven
 years ago, my children used to leave their little handprints as well
 when they were in kindergarten, but on pieces of art paper. Not
 scorched or burn marks.

 Photographs which lined the blackened walls showed faces of
 children who perished there. But even then only a few photographs
 could be traced. Many bodies were so badly burnt that they were
 just untraceable. Perhaps there was no one left to help find the
 photographs anyway. There were families whose members were all
 obliterated.

 I wonder whether bombing the shelter was justified even if weapons
 or chemicals were suspected to be hidden there. Did it really serve
 its purpose? All those innocent children and women killed? But
 that'ss war, one of my friends remarked. And war is always brutal.

 The war is over. What about now? Well, visit the school-- my
 father, an ex-teacher and a strong believer in education, would
 have said. To him, the conditions of schools are an indicator of the
 standard of education in a country. Why? School is a place where
 new generations are groomed for the future. The standard of
 education should therefore always be high, the environment
 conducive for learning.

 We visited one school called Al-Imam Intermediate School for girls
 located on the outskirts of Baghdad. It is supposed to be one of the
 better ones as the children at least have benches to sit on and
 desks to write.

 Ah yes, the classes even had chalk and boards though I only saw a
 small piece of chalk in each class that I went into. In many schools,
 children learn without such facilities.

 "Even then a child who is there is a lucky child," said one UN
 personnel. For many children school is not the place to be. The
 street is a better alternative. There they learn to beg or sell little
 things like cigarettes. So "where does a child learn about responsible
 citizenship? Who become their role models?"

 It is true that I saw children in worse conditions in Bangladesh, India
 and Mexico. But Iraq used to be a centre of learning besides Egypt
 in the Middle East. The country which has the blue waters of the
 Tigris and the Euphrates flowing used to boast a literacy rate of
 about 90 per cent for both men and women before the sanctions.

 Ten years hence it has plummeted to about 60 per cent. I ask
 myself, what kind of generation will now take over?

 Al-Imam has broken windows, warped floors and dusty rooms. No
 fans. No electricity. No water supply. How does one study when the
 heat goes up as high as 51 C in summer? How does one pay
 attention when the cold draft comes through the broken windows?
 And when dust from the desert chokes?

 Our visit took place during the session for girls. Their time is
 shortened to about three or four hours to allow primary students to
 use the classes. Each class had about 35-40 students. In one class
 that I visited the girls were studying algebra. The textbooks were
 old and well-used. They tried hard to speak English. Their eyes lit up
 whenever they were complimented. I wonder what dreams they
 have. Do they ever get the chance to ask themselves, "What should
 a girl be?" "What will algebra do for me?" Or are dreams dead too for
 them? Ah, my father would have shed tears to see such a condition.

 I found it hard visiting the hospitals. I could not bear watching little
 ones gasping for air while waiting their turns to get oxygen. Basic
 medical equipment is not sufficient. Sutures, drugs and disinfectants
 are not enough. Degradation of services is becoming a major
 problem. Yet the doctors try hard to maintain a certain standard of
 care. Never mind that frustration and weariness have begun to show
 on their faces.

 I find it difficult to accept when I read statements made by some
 quarters over the Internet that "sanctions are not intended to harm
 the people of Iraq". I'm fully aware that the whole issue of sanctions
 is more complex than it seems. But a decade of a comprehensive
 economic sanctions has resulted in the decline in the quality of life
 of the Iraqis.

 Surely the figures and reports compiled by the UN agencies cannot
 be ignored. The world cannot go on believing that the sanctions
 have had little impact. Sanctions in the past had always had serious
 effects on people. Shouldn't the world question the wisdom of
 sanctions particularly the comprehensive economic type?

 So I went to Iraq and indeed I found adventure and even, at times,
 intrigue. But I also found myself looking deeper into my soul and I
 feel despair at the thought that we never learn and that we whose
 hearts can be filled with so much compassion are so capable of
 inflicting pain and suffering on our fellow human beings. I wonder
 whether we don't lose our humanity at the end of the day.

 * The writer, Associate Professor Datin Dr Rashidah Shuib is
 coordinator of the Women's Health Development Unit of the School
 of Medical Sciences, Universiti Sains Malaysia, Kubang Kerian,
 Kelantan. She was a member of the women's team to Iraq headed
 by Datin Seri Dr Siti Hasmah Mohd Ali.