Embedded journalism from the front lines of
Afghanistan & Iraq ~ by Mike & Carlos Boettcher

It is a scene familiar to any American: the sight of children walking home from school, an adolescent flood spilling out onto the streets, making their way home alone, or more often, in groups. But this is not America, this is Baghdad, and there are myriad differences to the scene that are sharp reminders of that fact.

Most noticeably, the students are all girls, students at a female school in Abu Ghraib, a city west of Baghdad. This would not be a remarkable sight under most circumstances—after all, there are single-sex schools to spare in the states—but the hijab covering most of the girls’ heads are a striking example of a culture very much apart. From afar the crowd of students looks like the sea sweeping down the street, white hijabs resembling nothing less than the  sea-foam of breakers cresting against the sandy walls and battered cars that line the busy thoroughfare.

Noise is expected from such a gathering of youths, but it is a long time coming, and it is far from the raucous affair one might expect. The students are not quiet exactly, their passage is accompanied by a definite rumble; rather, there is a hush over the crowd, the electricity normally present quieted to dull static. The girls throw nervous glances about, eyeing pedestrians and vehicles with equal suspicion, choosing their steps carefully. Recent peace makes it easy to forget that these streets were once a warzone, but the girls have not forgotten, their quiet as loud a reminder as any scorchmark or shuttered storefront.

In many ways these students are the barometer of Iraq’s progress. Their presence in school is a positive sign, a signal that their parents feel comfortable enough to let them walk the streets rather than stay at home for safety. Such comfort is crucial if Iraq is ever to get back on its feet; people need to shop, vote, and travel if any serious attempt at recovery is going to be made, and judging by the presence of these students, people are doing just that. The school’s very existence is a positive indication of two things: that infrastructure has reached a point where things like schools have become a reality, and that a society as patriarchal as Iraq’s sees an advantage in educating its women. For a country that was teetering on the brink of civil war two years ago, these are remarkable accomplishments.

But the caution in the girl’s eyes speaks of another, harder truth: the still-uncertain fate of Iraq’s security situation. The violence that was so prevalent a year ago left its mark on these children, and the fear that those days could return once more is written clearly on their faces. The recent outburst of violence has done little to quiet such fears, and as worry grows, the sea of students is almost certain to shrink. In the coming months, the clearest indicator of peace may not be the number of bombs or deaths, but in the number of hijabs being let out of school.