Crossfire Victims Mount
Civilians are increasingly at risk of being caught up in fighting between security forces and insurgents.
Crossfire Victims Mount
Civilians are increasingly at risk of being caught up in fighting between security forces and insurgents.
In a tragic testament to the human cost of Iraq’s brutal conflict, the wedding dress, make-up and perfume of recent victim Dalia Ra’id al-Nemy still lie on a shelf in her room.
The 23-year-old bride-to-be was killed when several stray bullets hit her as she was having a meal with her fiancé Mohammed Sabah al-Qutib.
With tears in his eyes, Mohammed recalls how Dalia died in his arms, "I suddenly saw [her] blood spread over my face and clothes, and her dead body fell over me. I felt as if my life was ending, too."
It’s the sort of tragedy that occurs all too often in Iraq these days. As security forces step up their actions against insurgents, civilians are increasingly being killed in crossfire or as a result of being mistaken for militants.
Children playing in the street have been hit by stray bullets, while innocent travelers suspected of being extremists have been shot by nervous policeman at checkpoints.
Figures for the number of accidental killings are hard to come by as there are no official statistics for civilian deaths and not all deaths are reported.
According to the Iraqi Body Count, IBC, an independent non-for-profit research project, the number of civilians that daily fall victim to the violence has risen by eighty per cent from 20 per day in 2004. The figure, though, includes the victims of random shootings, torture, assassinations, suicide attacks and roadside bombs.
Statistics from the central Baghdad morgue show that the total number of civilians killed in violent incidents in the capital has rise year-on-year from 6331 in 2003 to 12617 in 2005.
A measure of how things have recently deteriorated is that in July alone, it received 1815 civilian corpses - most of them the victim of gunshots. The statistics do not, however, distinguish between deliberate or random gunfire.
Basma Fazil, from the Mithag neighbourhood of Mosul, says she will never forget the day when her little daughter Aya, 6, went out to get an ice cream. A little later, neighbours came by, carrying her dead body. The girl was fatally wounded in a firefight between Iraqi police and an armed gang. “Can’t the police see the difference between a little girl and a criminal?” Basma weeped.
Suha Hamid Abud, a journalist from the Al-Kafa'at neighborhood of Mosul, recalls how he came under fire in his house after a car bomb targeting a US military convoy went off nearby.
“Suddenly there was gunfire everywhere. We had no idea who the American soldiers were shooting at. Probably, it was a reaction to the explosion. But they hurt [ordinary] people,” he said.
Suha said bullets smashed through a window in his house, hitting the walls and furniture, “Two shots even destroyed our TV set.”
In a similar incident in Mosul, six people were reportedly killed and four wounded when American soldiers fired randomly after car bomb detonated close to them.
Abid Abdullah Hussein from Mosul said his two sons were shot dead while watching the scene from the rooftops of their house. “Our people's life is cheap in the view of the soldiers,” the father wailed. “They deprived me of my children. Sa'ad was 21 and Muthana was 23. Why were they killed? They were just chatting on the roof."
Major General Ahmed Jibury, Nineveh Police Chief, defended the security forces, “We feel pity for the victims. But we cannot tell the criminals and terrorists to move out of the cities and fight us [in the countryside].”
In his view, there’s little that can be done to lessen the number of crossfire casualties as the security forces strive to restore order in the country.
“When a surgeon takes out a tumor, he might unintentionally take out a healthy part with his scalpel. We want a crackdown on terrorism. But sometimes there will be unintended losses of life,” he said. “This is the fate of the Iraqis - they have to bear it."
Danya Latif is the pseudonym of an IWPR trainee journalist in Mosul.
The 23-year-old bride-to-be was killed when several stray bullets hit her as she was having a meal with her fiancé Mohammed Sabah al-Qutib.
With tears in his eyes, Mohammed recalls how Dalia died in his arms, "I suddenly saw [her] blood spread over my face and clothes, and her dead body fell over me. I felt as if my life was ending, too."
It’s the sort of tragedy that occurs all too often in Iraq these days. As security forces step up their actions against insurgents, civilians are increasingly being killed in crossfire or as a result of being mistaken for militants.
Children playing in the street have been hit by stray bullets, while innocent travelers suspected of being extremists have been shot by nervous policeman at checkpoints.
Figures for the number of accidental killings are hard to come by as there are no official statistics for civilian deaths and not all deaths are reported.
According to the Iraqi Body Count, IBC, an independent non-for-profit research project, the number of civilians that daily fall victim to the violence has risen by eighty per cent from 20 per day in 2004. The figure, though, includes the victims of random shootings, torture, assassinations, suicide attacks and roadside bombs.
Statistics from the central Baghdad morgue show that the total number of civilians killed in violent incidents in the capital has rise year-on-year from 6331 in 2003 to 12617 in 2005.
A measure of how things have recently deteriorated is that in July alone, it received 1815 civilian corpses - most of them the victim of gunshots. The statistics do not, however, distinguish between deliberate or random gunfire.
Basma Fazil, from the Mithag neighbourhood of Mosul, says she will never forget the day when her little daughter Aya, 6, went out to get an ice cream. A little later, neighbours came by, carrying her dead body. The girl was fatally wounded in a firefight between Iraqi police and an armed gang. “Can’t the police see the difference between a little girl and a criminal?” Basma weeped.
Suha Hamid Abud, a journalist from the Al-Kafa'at neighborhood of Mosul, recalls how he came under fire in his house after a car bomb targeting a US military convoy went off nearby.
“Suddenly there was gunfire everywhere. We had no idea who the American soldiers were shooting at. Probably, it was a reaction to the explosion. But they hurt [ordinary] people,” he said.
Suha said bullets smashed through a window in his house, hitting the walls and furniture, “Two shots even destroyed our TV set.”
In a similar incident in Mosul, six people were reportedly killed and four wounded when American soldiers fired randomly after car bomb detonated close to them.
Abid Abdullah Hussein from Mosul said his two sons were shot dead while watching the scene from the rooftops of their house. “Our people's life is cheap in the view of the soldiers,” the father wailed. “They deprived me of my children. Sa'ad was 21 and Muthana was 23. Why were they killed? They were just chatting on the roof."
Major General Ahmed Jibury, Nineveh Police Chief, defended the security forces, “We feel pity for the victims. But we cannot tell the criminals and terrorists to move out of the cities and fight us [in the countryside].”
In his view, there’s little that can be done to lessen the number of crossfire casualties as the security forces strive to restore order in the country.
“When a surgeon takes out a tumor, he might unintentionally take out a healthy part with his scalpel. We want a crackdown on terrorism. But sometimes there will be unintended losses of life,” he said. “This is the fate of the Iraqis - they have to bear it."
Danya Latif is the pseudonym of an IWPR trainee journalist in Mosul.
