Iraqi Kurdistan, After Isis: a photograhic essay by Sane Seven and Marius Janciauskas

For years, the deadly Isis forces terrorised their world. Now these Kurdish women are dismantling its deadly legacy, one mine at a time. | PICTURE ESSAY

Sanaria, surrounded by deactivated munitions,reflects the stark reality of her role at the MAG Chamchamal training center, where she honed the skills necessary to clear her country's land of the remnants of war. Picture: Sane Seven

Ever since Isis – the jihadist group also known as Islamic State – was ousted from Iraqi Kurdistan in 2017, the region has been littered with landmines, cluster munitions and unexploded bombs which still prevent displaced people from returning home. Women whose families were torn apart under Isis rule are now working with the Mines Advisory Group, an international humanitarian organisation that trains them to safely detect and dispose of the hidden killers.

Halala, formerly a psychologist and now a de-miner, in her de-miner's outfit near the minefields where she works. Picture: Sane Seven

In March this year Sane Seven, 40, and Marius Janciauskas, 42 – a husband-and-wife photography team – travelled to Iraqi Kurdistan to take portraits of these remarkable women posing proudly in traditional dress in defiance of the regime that once barred them from education and work.

Halala, a MAG de-miner, stands with confidence against a bare wall in Chamchamal, her vibrant traditional dress marking a stark contrast to the somber history of her vocation. Picture: Sane Seven

Amidst a field that bears the scars of conflict, Avan stands as a symbol of resilience. Clad in her traditional Kurdish dress, she contrasts the harsh reality of war, represented by the munitions at her feet, with the beauty and strength of her culture and the unyielding courage required in her mission to defuse the remnants of danger. Picture: Sane Seven

One deminer, Siham Fayruz, 24, from Mosul, was 14 when Isis arrived in her city. “I wanted to become a doctor or an ­engineer but we couldn’t continue our education,” she says. Her husband was later shot by an Isis fighter, and died in her arms. “I lost my youth because of Isis.”

Her colleague Rawa Ahmed, 45, is a former hairdresser. Her husband fell and broke his back when they were fleeing Mosul, so she is now the breadwinner – something they have faced prejudice about. “People used to ask my husband, ‘How do you let her go and do this job?’ I don’t let them discourage me,” she says.

Houras, with the heart of a teacher and the courage of a de-miner, stands between a translucent backdrop fluttering on the winds of Dokan and the reality of minefields, her traditional Kurdish attire as radiant as her spirit, dedicated to the safety of her large family and the unity of her female team. Picture: Sane Seven

“We expected the women to be quite conservative,” admits Janciauskas. “But this did not match the reality. ‘I want to look like Angelina Jolie,’ one of them said as we took her photo. They had deep respect for their traditional dress, but underneath we saw Adidas sneakers.”

Munitions 1. Picture: Sane Seven

Munitions 2. Picture: Sane Seven