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23 April 2003 by Rana Sidani at the Albukamal camp, Syria Photographs by Till Mayer Arkan Nouri is an Iraqi film producer. But he never imagined he would have a minor role in one of the most horrific dramas he had ever witnessed. Now at the Syrian Red Crescent (SARC) camp at Albukamal, on the Syrian-Iraqi border, he can reflect on how he and hundreds others reached safety. In the past two days, almost 700 third country nationals – most of them Sudanese – and Iraqi refugees have crossed the border and reached the Albukamal camp. Arkan’s journey was an Odyssey. Alone and without a car, the 47-year-old had to walk for days and ride with anyone heading north. Along the way, he witnessed bombardments and dead bodies in the streets. Carrying a small bag and high hopes of meeting up with his wife, Nisrine, and son, Baraa, in Syria, Arkan arrived in Alkaiim, the last town in Iraq before the border. But the Iraqi soldiers in the town refused to let him and around 1,500 displaced people cross into Syrian territory. The desperate crowd finally decided to defy the troops and make a run for the border, prompting the soldiers to open fire, Arkan says. "Either I live with my wife or I die," he said to himself, as he ran as fast as he could towards the Syrian border, expecting a bullet in his back. He made it to the barrier that marked the frontier, jumped over it and went to the SARC camp, where he was helped by Red Crescent volunteers. The first thing he asked for in the camp was paper and a pen. He wanted to write down what he had gone through for his next film, "Death and Nothingness". The movie will focus on the humanitarian suffering he had seen during the current war and the war between Iraq and Iran in the 1980s, when he was a television cameraman. The producer has made 27 films, often with the theme of freedom, and many have fallen foul of the security censors. One, entitled "Back Street", which deals with corruption, has been “massacred”, Arkan says. "This film is my unborn child, but I still have a copy. It will be broadcast one day,” he says, as he looks at the daylight streaming into his tent. Outside Arkan's tent, a Sudanese family prepares its belongings to go to hospital. The mother, Amal Outhman, gave birth in Baghdad and her newborn, Abdurahman, was just one day old when they crossed into Syria. Now they need further attention. "Hours after the delivery, we had to leave the hospital because of the insecurity," Amal, a veterinarian, explains. Although happy with the new addition to the family, she is worried about what the future holds for her three sons. "Our home was destroyed and looted. We lost everything we had built during years of hard work,” she says." Arkan's and Abdurahman's stories are not the saddest in the Albukamal camp. Nawal Dahdouh holds her seven-year-old son, Alahmad, in her arms all day. "I left Baghdad because I don’t want my only son to die. I have already lost two children," the 38-year-old mother explains. She arrived in the SARC camp during the first days of fighting, and has heard that her family’s home has been bombed and some of them were wounded. "Maybe Alahmad is the only thing I have left,” Nawal says in a deep sad voice. "Many people arrived at our camp in a very bad situation,” said camp manager Raslan Assaad. “The volunteers provide them with food, blankets, mattresses, health services and psychological support. We establish family link also by using our private mobile phone." In the Albukamal camp, many stories remain to be told. Arkan's film might one day shed light on Abdurahman insecure future and Alahmad frightened eyes. Related links: Iraq: humanitarian crisis Syria: appeals, updates and reports Make a donation |
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