Children Pay Cost of Iraq's
Chaos
Truth Out
By Karl Vick The Washington Post
Sunday 21 November 2004
Baghdad - Acute malnutrition among young children in Iraq has
nearly doubled since the United States led an invasion of the
country 20 months ago, according to surveys by the United
Nations, aid agencies and the interim Iraqi government.
After the rate of acute malnutrition among children younger
than 5 steadily declined to 4 percent two years ago, it shot up
to 7.7 percent this year, according to a study conducted by
Iraq's Health Ministry in cooperation with Norway's Institute for
Applied International Studies and the U.N. Development Program.
The new figure translates to roughly 400,000 Iraqi children
suffering from "wasting," a condition characterized by chronic
diarrhea and dangerous deficiencies of protein.
"These figures clearly indicate the downward trend," said
Alexander Malyavin, a child health specialist with the UNICEF
mission to Iraq.
The surveys suggest the silent human cost being paid across a
country convulsed by instability and mismanagement. While attacks
by insurgents have grown more violent and more frequent,
deteriorating basic services take lives that many Iraqis said
they had expected to improve under American stewardship.
Iraq's child malnutrition rate now roughly equals that of
Burundi, a central African nation torn by more than a decade of
war. It is far higher than rates in Uganda and Haiti.
"The people are astonished," said Khalil M. Mehdi, who directs
the Nutrition Research Institute at the Health Ministry. The
institute has been involved with nutrition surveys for more than
a decade; the latest one was conducted in April and May but has
not been publicly released.
Mehdi and other analysts attributed the increase in
malnutrition to dirty water and to unreliable supplies of the
electricity needed to make it safe by boiling. In poorer areas,
where people rely on kerosene to fuel their stoves, high prices
and an economy crippled by unemployment aggravate poor
health.
"Things have been worse for me since the war," said Kasim
Said, a day laborer who was at Baghdad's main children's hospital
to visit his ailing year-old son, Abdullah. The child, lying on a
pillow with a Winnie the Pooh washcloth to keep the flies off his
head, weighs just 11 pounds.
"During the previous regime, I used to work on the government
projects. Now there are no projects," his father said.
When he finds work, he added, he can bring home $10 to $14 a
day. If his wife is fortunate enough to find a can of Isomil, the
nutritional supplement that doctors recommend, she pays $7 for
it.
"But the lady in the next bed said she just paid $10," said
Suad Ahmed, who sat cross-legged on a bed in the same ward,
trying to console her skeletal 4-month-old granddaughter, Hiba,
who suffers from chronic diarrhea.
Iraqi health officials like to surprise visitors by pointing
out that the nutrition issue facing young Iraqis a generation ago
was obesity. Malnutrition, they say, appeared in the early 1990s
with U.N. trade sanctions championed by Washington to punish the
government led by President Saddam Hussein for invading Kuwait in
1990.
International aid efforts and the U.N. oil-for-food program
helped reduce the ruinous impact of sanctions, and the rate of
acute malnutrition among the youngest Iraqis gradually dropped
from a peak of 11 percent in 1996 to 4 percent in 2002. But the
invasion in March 2003 and the widespread looting in its
aftermath severely damaged the basic structures of governance in
Iraq, and persistent violence across the country slowed the pace
of reconstruction almost to a halt.
In its most recent assessment of five sectors of Iraq's
reconstruction, the Center for Strategic and International
Studies, a Washington research group, said health care was
worsening at the quickest pace.
"Believe me, we thought a magic thing would happen" with the
fall of Hussein and the start of the U.S.-led occupation, said an
administrator at Baghdad's Central Teaching Hospital for
Pediatrics. "So we're surprised that nothing has been done. And
people talk now about how the days of Saddam were very nice," the
official said.
The administrator, who would not give his full name for
publication, cited security concerns faced by Iraqi doctors, who
are widely perceived as rich and well-connected and thus easy
targets for thieves, extortionists and the merely envious or
vengeful. So many have been assassinated, he said, that the
Health Ministry recently mailed out offers to expedite weapon
permits for doctors.
Violence has also driven away international aid agencies that
brought expertise to Iraq following the U.S. invasion.
Since a truck bombing at the U.N. headquarters in Baghdad
killed more than 20 people last year, U.N. programs for Iraq have
operated from neighboring Jordan. Doctors Without Borders, a
group known for its high tolerance for risk and one of several
that helped revive Iraq's Health Ministry in the weeks after the
invasion, evacuated this fall.
CARE International closed down in October after the director
of its large Iraq operation, Margaret Hassan, was kidnapped. She
is now presumed to be dead. The huge Atlanta-based charity had
remained active in Iraq through three wars, providing hospitals
with supplies and sponsoring scores of projects to offer Iraqis
clean drinking water.
By one count, 60 percent of rural residents and 20 percent of
urban dwellers have access only to contaminated water. The
country's sewer systems are in disarray.
"Even myself, I suffer from the quality of water," said Zina
Yahya, 22, a nurse in a Baghdad maternity hospital. "If you put
it in a glass, you can see it's turbid. I've heard of typhoid
cases."
The nutrition surveys indicated that conditions are worst in
Iraq's largely poor, overwhelmingly Shiite Muslim south, an area
alternately subject to neglect and persecution during Hussein's
rule. But doctors say malnutrition occurs wherever water is
dirty, parents are poor and mothers have not been taught how to
avoid disease.
"I don't eat well," said Yusra Jabbar, 20, clutching her
swollen abdomen in a fly-specked ward of Baghdad's maternity
hospital. Her mother said the water in their part of Sadr City, a
Shiite slum on the capital's east side, is often contaminated.
Her brother contracted jaundice.
"They tell me I have anemia," Jabbar said. Doctors said almost
all the pregnant women in the hospital do.
"This is not surprising because since the war, there is lots
of unemployment," Yahya said. "And without work, they don't have
the money to obtain proper food."
Iraqis say such conditions carry political implications.
Baghdad residents often point out to reporters that after the
1991 Persian Gulf War left much of the capital a shambles,
Hussein's government restored electricity and kerosene supplies
in two months.
"Yes, there is a price for every war," said the official at
the teaching hospital. "Yes, there are victims. But after
that?"
"Oh God, help us build Iraq again. For our children, not for
us. For our kids," the official said.
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