Mosul: Rising from the Ashes of Conflict: Peace Letters to Nineveh

By: Jacqueline Hatch 03/24/24

Peer Reviewed By REAL Members


“In the wake of devastation and conflict, there is a powerful and enduring spirit, rising from the ashes of despair.” These words not only serve as the opening address in the micro-documentary, Peace Letters to Nineveh, but also capture the resilience of a once war-torn Mosul and its people. It is the students and faculty of The University of Mosul-Iraq who will not allow that resilience to go unnoticed nor forgotten. 

Led by Iraqi American peace activist Noor Ghazi from UNC-Chapel Hill, U.S. and Dr. Hijran Ahmed from Mosul University-Iraq, Peace Letters for Nineveh began as an initiative to foster connection amongst students focused in peace studies and bridge their understanding of conflict, trauma and peacebuilding. However, it has become so much more. Through the combined efforts of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and Mosul University-Iraq, students organize virtual exchanges. Cohorts send each other letters to share unconditional support, familial accounts of living under the ISIS occupation, their hopes, and even advice for the future as Mosul continues to rebuild. Each letter is more than words between strangers, but exchanged symbols of hope. With the support of President of Mosul University Dr. Kossay Alahmady, these student-led efforts included coordinating projects deadlines, meetings, camera men, voice over footage, establishing drone permits and other logistics.

Peace Letters to Nineveh was a follow up short documentary to the first long documentary Mosul: The Mother of Two Springs, produced by Noor Ghazi in 2022 to shed light on the fall of the city to ISIS in 2014 as well as life under the terrorist organization. The documentary, which follows the destruction of life under the occupation of ISIS, illustrates the reasons behind the fall of the city to ISIS, changes to the education system, women and men’s lives and the battle of the liberation The documentary portrays powerful images of child soldiers, contaminated drinking water, and remnants of what used to be schools, homes, hospitals. We see not only the destruction of history, as historical and archaeological sites dating back to earliest civilizations in Mesopotamia and co-existing places of worship were destroyed, speaking to the devastation caused by the country’s insurgency.

Ghazi admits this work is more than personal. “As a mother tucking her little daughter to bed safely every night, I couldn’t help myself [but] to think about all the parents and children in Mosul who were living the terror every night not knowing if they would make it to the next morning. I decided to pick up my camera, leave my little daughter with my mom, and go to Mosul to film and bring back those stories to the U.S. for people to see the reality of our world.”

The follow up short documentary, Peace Letters to Nineveh, was screened this past November at the George Washington University during International Education Week, exposing students to the once peaceful Mosul. Accounts of its grave destruction serve as motivation for university students to give peace a platform, shedding light on the good work of those supporting its reconstruction. As highlighted in the Peace Letters to Nineveh documentary, throughout post liberation, the young people of Mosul have played a crucial role. And while these efforts do begin with a blueprint and city planning, the young people of Mosul are rebuilding so much more than fallen architecture. 

The short documentary also features the significance of Nineveh’s ethnic and religious diversity, as well as its road back to multi-denominational trust. With a backdrop adorned with crosses, icons, and other symbols of Christianity, peace activist Evonne Edward shares that despite the diverse beliefs and backgrounds, the people of Mosul peacefully coexisted before the occupation. The displacement, however, caused a level of distrust that unraveled the tapestry of a peaceful society comprising many religious and ethnic communities. Following liberation operations in 2017, the return home for those displaced by the conflict began paving a path for peace. A collaboration, Edward states, that not only resulted in rebuilding the city, but rebuilding peace through trust and mutual respect, germane to all practicing religions. 

Another contribution from the city’s youth is the Mosul Heritage Foundation. Established by those interested in reviving Mosul’s heritage, the foundation aims to serve as a memorial to those who have endured unfathomable hardships as well as to invest in rebuilding Mosul’s economy through tourism. Ayoob Thanoon, one of the founding members, recounts a visit from Pope Francis in 2021. “[His visit] resulted in providing visas for foreigners from more than 34 countries, allowing them visa on arrival.”

The young people of Mosul are in constant acknowledgement of the true hope of tomorrow, the younger people, the children. The Art Pioneers Academy serves as a place for children to hone creativity and to use these expressions as a path towards healing. Raid Qasim, the academy’s Principal, affirms that the academy serves as a safe place to  “allow children to erase their [painful] memories artistically.” in reference to the dark era under ISIS where creative art was eliminated from school curricula. Additional community art festivals feature exhibitions that include theater, visual art, paintings, music and crafts. 

Mosul proves it is not only a place that values art, but STEM programming. The highschool of the Gifted Students-Nineveh calls action to advancing technology and artificial intelligence programming, creating scientific workshops, showcasing the dedication of Mosul’s youth. International accolades such as recipient of the Zayed Sustainability Prize, Codeavour programming competitions and other American AI competitions display the work ethic and dedication the youth hold for their beloved city. 

Through the peace letters and exchange of letters between students from different parts of the world, the project has amassed so much more. “The day I entered the city of Mosul after the liberation in 2018, I was in a shock seeing the state of destruction the city endured. As the car was leaving the city, I closed my eyes and prayed for the city to recover soon. Seeing the recovery and the healing of Mosul today led by the resilience of its own people, brings tears of happiness to my eyes.” (Noor Ghazi).  

Interview with Lual Mayen, Video Game Designer

By: O. Abiola Akintola 1/12/24

Peer Reviewed by REAL Members


Picture of Lual Mayen, Creator of Salaam
Picture of Lual Mayen, Creator of Salaam and Founder of the Lual Mayen Foundation

On November 3, 2023, I conducted an email interview with Lual Mayen, a former refugee-turned-video game designer about his first release, “Salaam (https://junubgames.com).” Originally from South Sudan, Lual Mayen was living with his family in a refugee camp in Northern Uganda when he discovered computers. Teaching himself how to code, Mayen eventually drew from his personal experiences to create Salaam. Currently a mobile video game and soon to be released on all platforms, Salaam, described as a “high-tension runner” simulation, places the player in the shoes of a refugee seeking safety during conflict. 
In addition to designing the newest version of the game, Lual is currently building his nonprofit organization (the Lual Mayen Foundation http://www.lualmayen.org ), which will train refugee youth in computer programming) and making various public appearances (he has spoken at the United Nations, the World Bank, Georgetown University and, most recently GW University during International Education Week 2023). For considerations of length and clarity, here is an edited version of the interview:

O. Abiola Akintola: What inspired you to create Salaam?

Lual Mayen: [Salaam is] based on my personal story. [My] family left South Sudan to find a place of refuge because of the war there. When you look at South Sudan, [it] is a country that has been ravaged by civil war and for so many years. And when I was growing up in a refugee camp, I realized that my country has over 73% of the population under the age of 30. The young people grew up in war and were raised up in war and [change] is always [more] conflict, conflict, conflict. And I believe that, you know, conflict is something that is built over time. So they need different approaches in order for young people to understand how to resolve conflict and how to live in a peaceful environment. 

When I was growing up in a refugee camp, [I] didn’t have a lot of access to video games. And I remember like the first time I played was Grand Theft Auto, and [before that] I never thought that games are actually created by people [I thought they] just, you know, fell from heaven. But I realized that there is power in games in terms of [being] able to help people to engage and to react [properly] and teach empathy [for example,] how do we [change] behaviors, how do we care about other people? And [can] we do that through playing, through understanding our characters in so many ways. And [what] affected my family inspired me so much as a refugee. 

I wanted people to understand the journey of refugees. And that’s why Salaam [is] a game that puts people in the shoes of refugees that are actually fleeing a conflict zone. And the focus is to find a place of refuge to [live] new lives. A lot of people think that refugees are born into society [like other people]. [As if we] just wake up in the morning and leave the places [we] love, the places [we] call home. A lot of it is because a lot of people don’t understand what refugees go through. And because of that, it’s something that I took as my responsibility as a young person that has grown up in a refugee camp. 

I took it upon myself to try to create something that will teach people that refugees, all they want is a peaceful environment or a place where they can start a new life and be able to be a change in the world. And I think that’s really what inspired me to create [my game] Salaam when I was back in a refugee camp. And a lot of people don’t know that I spent [over] 22 years of my life growing up in a refugee camp. And that’s [why] I decided to [teach] myself computers, [writing] code and find a way of [creating] something that other people can experience.

OAA: How long did it take you to finish Salaam?

When I first got into the first thing I did was teach myself coding and being consistent. Like what does it [take] for me to create a game? Because I’ve never been to school for me to learn how to [design] games. So, I had to [watch] YouTube videos and try to figure it out and [solve the] puzzle in order for me to get into that industry. My first game, which [I released] in 2017, I kept on building [upon] it. And right now we are building [a] newer version of the same game, which has more improvement[s] and more understanding of what I want to achieve. So, it [took four years for] the first [version of the game]. 

LM: What technology did you use to create it? 

[The] first version of the of Salaam is kind of different from [the upcoming version] because [the first version] was more of a mobile version. So, I used HTML5 in order [to] program the game I also [used] Game Maker for it to be on different platforms. So, I used [them] for the first [version] because I just wanted [it] to be [lightweight] and so on. So [now we’re] using Unity Technologies [to] create [the latest version]. 

OAA: Who was your target audience when you were designing Salaam? Did you reach them, or did you reach beyond that audience? 

LM: [My original] target audience was people who play games and [especially] people [who] are able to [finish] a game [in] one day. [Then also] organizations like The Gates Foundation that are able to use the game in order to train other people. [And then] the game industry [itself,] the people in the industry that [design games,] just to be able to like bring something new to them. So those were my target audiences. Did I reach them? Yes. 

My biggest supporters, that helped me a lot with Salaam, [was] the game industry. That was [one] of the [proudest] moments because when I was doing Salaam in a refugee camp, I didn’t know that I was actually going to [gain that] audience, I guess. I remember when we premiered Salaam at The Game Awards [in 2019], our trailer had about 44 million views and that gave me so much encouragement because [that’s an audience size] that I never thought I would reach. And being able to [have] that opportunity was really incredible. So I was able to reach beyond the audience that I actually thought about which is really good. And, and I’m really excited for the future of my work. 

OAA: What future projects do you have planned?

LM: [So,] right now the [primary] project is to continue building Salaam to a different level. And second, I have my foundation, which is the Lual Mayen Foundation, to be able to get kids in refugee camps involved in game design animation. Because when I first taught myself programming, only two people [aided] me to be where I am today. They were my mother, who bought me my first computer, and a friend of mine who would walk with me to the closest internet café. So I’m really excited to be able to have a project that can teach kids game design animation back in Uganda and partner with different organizations that are supporting my own, my foundation. 

OAA: The last question is, if you could design a technology-based solutions for any refugee related issue, what would that be? 

LM: That’s a really good question. First of all, I always tell people that “the refugee crisis” is a broad kind [of issue]. People may think that it just one crisis. Some refugees flee because of war. Some of them flee because of climate change. Some of them flee because they need some human rights and all those things. And I think each of those issues needs a solution. And to me, I feel like technology could be like a very good way to advocate for refugees. It can be some issues that I that can address directly and some issues that I can help people understand what the problems are. And one thing I like about the gaming industry is that it is an industry that can reach young people, in terms of advocacy and also in terms of trying to reach a broader audience. So there’s a lot of solutions that can be created. 

Opening graphic for video game, Salaam that shares the refugee experience
Title sequence of Salaam, the video game developed by Lual Mayen

Creating a Safe Space for Children in the West Bank: A Reflection on Teaching in Nablus

By: Emily Zanieski 12/2/23

Peer Reviewed by REAL Members


“Miss Emily…Miss Emily,” I heard as I started my journey into Nablus’ Old City after spending my day creating lesson plans for my upcoming week of English classes. From the hill adjacent to my path came two 7-year-olds running down to greet me with hugs and high-fives before introducing me to their family who worked in a local shop across the street. Two weeks later, I would run into the same children. This time, when taking me to their family, I was met with tea and we exchanged stories about our lives, each using each other’s native language. This was just one of the many experiences I had while teaching in Palestine this past summer.

Prior to arriving in Palestine, I had no experience teaching children, making lesson plans, working with co-teachers, or leading a classroom. What I did have was a strong passion for making education more equitable in emergency contexts and an open heart. Having just finished my first year at George Washington University, I was eager to have the opportunity to take what I had learned about working in education in emergency situations and apply it in my work as a teacher. That being said…I was extremely nervous. While I had talked about the importance of social emotional learning (SEL) for refugees during my Education in Emergencies course in the spring, I was unsure if I was the right person for this job. Although I speak Arabic and have been engaged with Middle Eastern studies since my undergraduate career, I also knew I was coming to Nablus as a white American who did not have any experience with displacement or conflict. As a firm believer of participatory processes in education, I knew that although I would be teaching students my native language, I would be learning from them, my other teachers, and locals what Palestinians in Nablus experience daily. Luckily, at Tomorrow’s Youth Organization (TYO), I worked alongside local Nablusi teachers, learning what SEL meant for their students both inside and outside the classroom. 

TYO is an American non-profit organization based in Nablus that supports refugees and marginalized communities through holistic approaches to education, focusing not only on academic goals but addressing the physical, social, and emotional needs of their students. By hiring local staff, TYO has successfully fostered relationships, built rapport and gained credibility across Nablus as a leader in education. During the summer, TYO runs two summer camps focused on developing students’ English-language abilities and SEL skills. To achieve their goals in developing students’ English, TYO brings native English speakers from around the world to lead daily English lessons, among other activities. In implementing SEL in the classroom, TYO utilizes the World Bank’s Step-by-Step toolkit to promote skills in self-awareness, self-regulation, social awareness, positive communication, determination, and responsible decision making. Prior to the first summer camp, TYO’s teachers participated in a localization training so they could adjust the World Bank’s toolkit to fit the needs of students in their classrooms. Going through my program orientation and meeting weekly with my 2nd grade teacher helped me get a better understanding of what locals believe should be taught, and we worked together to make lesson plans that would promote our educational goals while ensuring students had fun.

Believing that education for children must go beyond academic solutions, I worked to incorporate daily SEL goals into my lessons. One of my students’ favorite lessons was the day we focused on self-awareness and love through the creation of a “I love myself” mirror. At the beginning of the lesson, we practiced the body parts vocabulary through dancing along to “head, shoulders, knees, and toes”. Afterwards, we worked on crafting a mirror so students could see themselves and begin identifying things they liked about themselves. On the handle of the mirror, students were encouraged to write their names and practice writing the phrase “I love me” in order to promote the idea of self-love and self-esteem. As students came up to me, showed me their mirror, and pointed to themselves while saying “I love me,” I couldn’t help myself from smiling and making sure that they knew they were loved by their family, friends, and teachers as well.

One of my students making his “I Love Myself mirror”

Besides seeing firsthand the positive impact SEL can have for refugee students, the biggest takeaway from my time in Palestine, both in planning my lessons and in teaching, was learning how to be flexible.

Throughout the West Bank and Gaza, prolonged school closures due to the COVID-19 pandemic, compounded with “widespread security constraints and teachers’ strikes” (UNICEF, 2023) has resulted in Palestinian students receiving disrupted education, and in many cases, no education at all. For many of my 7 and 8-year-olds, they had not been in a classroom for three years. Because of this, my expectations on what I believed students ‘should’ know coming into class drastically changed in the first 30 minutes of my first class. In my first lesson, this meant changing my lesson in the middle of class, adjusting to have students introduce themselves and their favorite color instead of their favorite activity. By the end of my summer, this meant spending multiple days on 1 topic and introducing it in new ways to test if students understood the concepts I was teaching. 

I also had to learn how to be flexible purely because of the situation in Nablus. City-wide closures and randomly occurring raids in refugee camps meant that at best, some students were not in class, but oftentimes meant that students were not coming in for the day. The clearest example of this was when Israeli airstrikes and ground operations in Jenin–a city roughly one hour away from Nablus–prevented students from coming to TYO for an entire week due to safety concerns. The 14 days of summer camp students were promised turned into 9. Disruption to children’s education must inspire us to seek out new and innovative ways to increase educational opportunities for students affected by crisis and conflict.

My summer in Nablus was truly an unforgettable experience. It is one thing to sit in Washington DC and talk about refugee education; it’s another thing to be in the classroom teaching students who have experienced life as a refugee. For people looking to work in the field of international education, especially for those interested in education in emergencies, I would encourage seeking out opportunities that allow you to learn from local communities. I believe that by working alongside and listening to the locals about the support they need from the international community, I have become a better advocate for education, not only in Palestine, but across the world.