By Carol Morello
Washington Post Staff Writer
washingtonpost.com
Tuesday, April 29, 2003; Page A01
BAGHDAD, April 28 -- Barely a third of the desks had students sitting in them when Jamila Jorj walked into her fifth-grade classroom to teach her first science lesson in six weeks, on electricity slowly being restored in Baghdad. But first she wanted to discuss the war that had kept children and teachers huddled in their homes since mid-March.
"After the war, we will see our country change for the better, with freedom," she said. "How did you see the war? Were you afraid?"
An eager boy in the front row leapt to his feet and told her, "With the bombing and missiles, we were afraid because it was so loud and so dark." The dark and the loud noises are over, she told him softly but firmly. "And no country will be better than Iraq."
The resumption of school in Baghdad is the clearest sign of hope for the future that many Iraqis have had in years. But the schools are also a touchstone of loss.
Teachers were asked to report back to work this week at schools in which furniture and fixtures have been stripped away by looters and that were further damaged by U.S. soldiers who dug holes and broke open book lockers searching for hidden weapons. Instead of teaching, many educators are spending their days sweeping away the glass, painting the walls that had displayed the adages of fallen president Saddam Hussein and scrubbing dusty floors.
At some schools that have been cleaned up or had little damage, a few students have started returning for a shortened day, although many parents have kept their children at home out of concern for their safety. Teachers say they are coping with children traumatized by deaths of siblings and other relatives, by the fear they saw in their parents' eyes and by the absence of schoolmates who have yet to return after their families fled Baghdad.
The United States has announced plans to redo the Iraqi curriculum. Textbooks and lesson plans were heavily weighted with references to the virtues of Hussein and his version of events, such as Iraqi victory in the 1991 Persian Gulf War. And the teachers will have to do it without any firm indication of when they will see a paycheck again.
"Circumstances were better before," said Ayad Ibrahim, an Arabic grammar teacher at Hurriyeh Elementary, in a neighborhood where electricity and water have yet to be fully restored. "We are suffering even more than during the war. At least we had electricity until the seventh day of the war."
Iraq, which benefited from a lucrative oil industry, once boasted one of the Arab world's best education systems for its students, who number at least 5 million. In 1990, when sanctions were imposed because of Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, Hussein's government allocated $230 million to education. But during the 1990s, as the sanctions took effect, the budget dropped to a tenth of its prewar level. Although schools remained free, students were obliged to pay for their supplies for the first time.
And now the scars of war, and signs of transition, are everywhere at Hurriyeh, where 860 children attended school through sixth grade in a building constructed in 1947 that appears to have the original wiring.
A trench six feet deep was dug in the front yard by the school watchman so he could jump in during bombardments. Every ceiling fan and many fluorescent lights were stripped away by looters, who also took the curtains, the school microscope and its telephone. Chalkboards still bear the date of March 11, the last day school was in session.
Metal lockers holding books had the locks pried off, the staff said, by U.S. soldiers who have removed caches of ammunition and guns stored by Iraqi fighters in schoolhouses around the city. They even pounded a hole three feet in diameter and one foot deep in the concrete volleyball court. But school administrators said no weapons were found at Hurriyeh.
Water service is spotty at best, so parents have hand-carried jugs of water to the school to allow teachers to wash the floors. Parents also paid for the blue and gray paint that has covered many of Hussein's slogans that were painted on every classroom wall. In one classroom, a foot-high pile of frames holding his photograph lay upside down on a desk.
"We'll keep the frames," said the principal, Fuad Raouf Abdel Kareem.
Even many of the teachers who reported for work at Hurriyeh have kept their own children out of school. Although U.S. forces have confiscated stolen police cars and sent hundreds of Iraqi officers out to patrol, in large swaths of the city residents say they have yet to see a police car. To many, the city remains lawless and dangerous.
"We haven't seen any humanitarian aid," said Ibrahim, the grammar teacher. "No one helps us. We are only by ourselves."
The damage, and needs, are far less severe at Amtethal Elementary School, located on the outskirts of Baghdad. Adiba Sadok Dhalum, who has been principal for 31 years, went to the schoolhouse every day to protect it from looters. She and a watchman who lives at the school removed most of the files, furniture and accessories, down to the wall clocks, and moved it to her house for safekeeping.
At midday on Saturday, Dhalum wired the public address system so it could be heard throughout the neighborhood and urged parents to bring their children back to school. She reminded the children she expected them to wear their uniforms -- white shirts for boys, blue jumpers for girls.
About 200 of the 1,200 pupils have returned so far. They found few physical changes to the one-story concrete schoolhouse. Textbooks still have Hussein's photograph on the front page. Various sayings attributed to him on how to live a good life adorn the exterior walls, standing in stark contrast to the paintings of Popeye and Donald Duck and drawings of children taking showers and brushing their teeth.
Two 12-year-old boys quarreled beside a wall holding the slogan, "God save Iraq and Saddam Hussein."
"I think it is beautiful," said Mohammed Ismael, a sixth-grader. "All Iraqis thought he was wonderful."
"Don't say all Iraqis," admonished his classmate, Mohammed Nozad. "I didn't like him. He hurt people."
"He didn't hurt people," his friend replied. "He was a wonderful man, better than anyone in Iraq."
Several mothers who had walked their children to school and lingered to watch over them said many children were having trouble sleeping. They often wake up with nightmares about the war, and cry more than usual, one mother said. That is why many parents feel their children are not ready to return to school, they said.
Other families have not yet come back to Baghdad from small towns where they sat out the war. And some are missing and feared dead.
Still, Amna Khalid Mahudi looked content as she watched her third-grade daughter walk on the playground holding hands with girlfriends. She also has two sons, 14 and 15, and she is relieved she no longer has to worry about Baath Party activists coming to her sons' schools to recruit them for a Baath militia. On days when she knew the Baathists were coming to school, she would keep her boys at home.
"Better you miss a day of school than join a militia," she told them. To reinforce the message, she used to point to Iraqi soldiers she saw on the streets and tell her sons she wanted them to attend school, not join the army.
"I'm very happy," said Mahudi, the front of her black robe draped open to show a bright orange embroidered dress that went down to her ankles. "There are many children who want to come to school, but their parents won't let them because they are afraid for their safety. But we must educate our children and allow them to live a normal life again. This is our future."
Direct Link:
--
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A50861-2003Apr28.html