Disability and the Gender Factor in South Central Iraq

"Hey - there you go, a Down Syndrome girl pushing the gender agenda"

As an American, and a native Arabic speaker, I had the opportunity to work in Iraq with the most vulnerable population under extreme security constrains while developing programs that bring dignity to people with disabilities. When I speak about people with disabilities, I am not only addressing those who were injured by the war, but also those who became disabled because of a dilapidated health-care system. Yes, thirty years of war, economic sanctions, and the use of chemical weapons can create all kinds of people with all types of impairments. These are the people that economists view as unproductive and the humanitarian world sees as unworthy of development money. This is the silent minority that is the byproduct of conflict. I would like to bring you within earshot of their voices.

On my first month in Iraq, I traveled to a small city in the South Central region of the country along the Iranian mountain border. The majority of the population was Shia and as such, under the Saddam Regime, were oppressed and excluded from adequate social services. The city was fairly devastated, and lacked the basic infrastructure, like an adequate sewage system and electricity. Outside their houses, all the women were covered, young and old. I had to be covered myself. Privacy and keeping the women secluded was a high priority for this society and each house had a barrier wall that was at least six feet tall to ensure that women lived privately. Women did not leave their homes without their veils.

But among this secluded society that took all the precautions to conceal women, I was struck to see one uncovered young girl of about the age of 12 in the street. Her longer length hair and dress stood out from the crowd as we drove by a group of children on a main street. As we approached her, I noticed her facial features. She had Down Syndrome!  At first, I was excited and happy. I told myself, "hey there you go, a Down Syndrome girl pushing the gender agenda in the middle of this city". However, as we drove by, I was told that she did not need to be covered because “she was not material for marriage”. At that moment my happiness turned to sadness. I could not even imagine the stigmatization of this young girl. In a society that goes to great lengths to protect women, this young lady was seen as unworthy of protecting. I could not help but wonder if she was considered worthless because society perceived her as asexual. 

All kinds of questions ran into my mind, I wondered if she was ever sexually abused. What about her mother, how did she feel about her daughter? Did she become an outcast of the community because she was not able to produce a “normal girl”?  I thought about the father, how was his relationship with his daughter and the mother of this girl? I would never get an answer to my questions, because the humanitarian community does not have the knowledge to serve the disability population in a comprehensive manner.

Donors and mainstream humanitarian organizations will jump on the bandwagon to quickly erect and renovate schools - be it for special needs students or not. In fact, during this trip, I visited two schools, one for the Deaf and one for the developmentally delayed. Technically, they are not even schools because they fall under the Ministry of Social Affairs, not the Ministry of Education. Consequently, most of these students will never have the opportunity to be certified with a diploma because the Ministry of Social Affairs does not have the jurisdiction to certify an educational diploma - not that the students had any educational skills or were being taught any valuable skills anyway. Let’s put it this way, deaf students in the fourth grade could not sign their alphabets. There were no lessons taught in the classrooms. Obviously teachers and staff need technical training for students with special needs, which included basic sign language skills.  

But despite the incompetent skills of the entire staff, including teachers and administrative workers, this school was renovated and supplied with new materials and brand new computers just like all other regular schools. Donors and Humanitarian organizations never equipped these schools with supplies that cater to those with special needs. Relief workers never took the time nor did they have the skills to assess the needs of these unique students. There are always low tech and low cost alternatives to enhancing those with poor aptitude. Rarely would international NGOs push to reform policies to insure that schools for children with special needs are under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Education.

In reality, humanitarian organizations would rather address the needs of people with disabilities from a health standpoint, rather than to look at their needs from a wider social equity perspective. Therefore, they get left out from mainstream development programs. For the most part, the limited programs that are funded by donors, maintain the outmoded social welfare status. Most of these programs are managed by health experts or local public officials who want to project the right image in front of the international community. These officials and experts are more often then not men. Mothers, and people with disabilities are usually not the stakeholders of these humanitarian programs and as a result, the majority of these services do noting but perpetuate further the institutionalization of people with disabilities. Consequently, disability issues remain taboo in most of the Middle East and the burden to protect them, more often then not, falls on the women who are expected to take care of them.