Young Iraqi Film Students Tell Their Own Stories From Mosul

In the war-ravaged northern Iraqi city of Mosul, 19 students are getting a chance to make their first short films Zaid AL-OBEIDI AFP
In the war-ravaged northern Iraqi city of Mosul, 19 students are getting a chance to make their first short films Zaid AL-OBEIDI AFP
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Young Iraqi Film Students Tell Their Own Stories From Mosul

In the war-ravaged northern Iraqi city of Mosul, 19 students are getting a chance to make their first short films Zaid AL-OBEIDI AFP
In the war-ravaged northern Iraqi city of Mosul, 19 students are getting a chance to make their first short films Zaid AL-OBEIDI AFP

A budding Iraqi filmmaker yells "action!" as an actress clambers over rubble in Mosul's Old City, proud students of a nascent film school in the former militant bastion.

Mosul still bears the scars of the brutal reign of the ISIS terrorist group, who overran the northern Iraqi city in 2014.

They destroyed everything from centuries-old churches to musical instruments, before being routed in a devastating battle in 2017.

Now, in a collaboration between the Mosul fine arts academy, a Belgian theater company and UN cultural agency UNESCO, 19 students are getting a chance to make their first short films.

"We live in Mosul, we know everything that happened," said 20-year-old theater student Mohammed Fawaz. "We want to show it all to the world through cinema."

Over a four-month course, students get a taste of everything from writing and shooting to acting and editing, according to Milo Rau, artistic director of Belgian NTGent theatre company who is behind the initiative.

Cameras and microphones in hand, the students are now hitting Mosul's streets to tell stories from their wounded city.

An actress dressed as a bride searches for her husband, only to discover he has stepped on a land mine.

Children and other residents crowd around curiously, while a neighbor refuses to turn off a noisy generator.

"We're losing the light," one of the instructors reminds students, as the December sun goes down.

Studying at the fine arts academy after the ISIS defeat was a bit like "passing from the Stone Age to modernity", said student Fawaz.

A fan of blockbuster movies like the Marvel and "Fast and Furious" franchises, Fawaz spent several of his teen years at home with no television or schooling under the extremists, learning English through books and thanks to a neighbor.

He and some classmates have already decided "to make films on Mosul and its war", Fawaz said.

After a month-long intensive session in October, the students have been trying out different roles as they pair up to make their films, said Belgian instructor, cameraman and filmmaker Daniel Demoustier.

All the equipment like lenses and sound gear brought in from abroad will stay, he said, with the goal for the students to "pick it up again and start making their films on their own".

Even if only three or four do so, "that will be a great success", he said.

Tamara Jamal, 19, said the course was her "first experience" with cinema.

Her short film tells the story of a young girl whose father beats her mother, while others have looked at issues including early marriage.

"Most of the students prefer to talk about stories where children play the main role," said Susana AbdulMajid, an Iraqi-German actress and teacher whose family is originally from Mosul.

Young people in the city "have gone through a lot of difficult and horrible things... there is a kind of longing for childhood, and also for a time of innocence", she said.

The students' nine works, each lasting up to five minutes, will be screened in Mosul in February before being presented to European festivals, said Rau.

His production of "Orestes in Mosul" -- an adaptation of Aeschylus's ancient Greek tragedy -- was produced in 2018-2019 with the participation of local students.

The goal now is to secure funding to keep the cinema department running, he said.

The next step will be "to have a small Mosul film festival... continuing what we started".



Gabon Forest Elephant Forays Into Villages Spark Ire

(FILES) Forest elephants are seen at Langoue Bai in the Ivindo national park, on April 26, 2019 near Makokou. (Photo by Amaury HAUCHARD / AFP)
(FILES) Forest elephants are seen at Langoue Bai in the Ivindo national park, on April 26, 2019 near Makokou. (Photo by Amaury HAUCHARD / AFP)
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Gabon Forest Elephant Forays Into Villages Spark Ire

(FILES) Forest elephants are seen at Langoue Bai in the Ivindo national park, on April 26, 2019 near Makokou. (Photo by Amaury HAUCHARD / AFP)
(FILES) Forest elephants are seen at Langoue Bai in the Ivindo national park, on April 26, 2019 near Makokou. (Photo by Amaury HAUCHARD / AFP)

In heavily forested Gabon, elephants are increasingly wandering into villages and destroying crops, angering the local population who demand the power to stop the critically endangered animals in their tracks.

"The solution to get rid of the pachyderms is to kill them," said Kevin Balondoboka, who lives in Bakoussou, a mere scattering of wooden huts in the sprawling, lush forest.

Villagers across the central African country live in fear of close encounters with elephants, whether on the road, going to wash in the river or especially in fields where they grow their crops.

Strict conservation policies have made Gabon "the refuge of forest elephants", Lea-Larissa Moukagni, who heads the human-wildlife conflict program at the National Agency of National Parks (ANPN) said, according to AFP.

African forest elephants, which inhabit the dense rainforests of west and central Africa, are smaller than their African savanna elephant cousins.

Poaching for ivory and loss of habitat have led to a decline over decades in their numbers and conservation groups now list the African forest elephant as critically endangered.

But that does not stop villagers from viewing the animals as a pervasive problem.

With a population of 95,000 elephants compared to two million inhabitants, the issue is a "real" one, said Aime Serge Mibambani Ndimba, a senior official in the ministry of the environment, climate and -- recently added -- human-wildlife conflict.

- 'Protecting humans or animals?' -

"What are the men in government protecting? Human being or beast?" Mathias Mapiyo, another Bakoussou resident, asked, exasperatedly.

"I don't know what the elephant brings them," he said.

Some worry their livelihoods will be stamped out.

"We provide for our children's needs through agriculture," Viviane Metolo, from the same village, said.

"Now that this agriculture is to benefit the elephant, what will become of us?"

William Moukandja, the head of a special forest brigade, has grown used to the anti-elephant complaints.

"The human-wildlife conflict is now permanent, we find it across the country, where we are seeing devastation from north to south and from east to west," he said.

Moukagni, from the national parks agency, said people's perception that there are more elephants than before was borne out by the figures.

"It is scientifically proven," she said -- but what has changed is that the elephants no longer shy away from villages and even towns.

To protect crops, the agency has experimented with electric fences, not to kill but to "psychologically impact the animal" and repel it.

Experts have looked into why the "Loxodonta cyclotis" -- the African forest elephant's scientific name -- is venturing out from the depths of the forest.

Climate change is affecting the plants and food available to the animals, Moukagni said.

But humans working the land that is the animals' natural habitat is another factor, while poaching deep in the forest also scatters herds, she said.

- 'Responsibility' -

The population of the African forest elephant plummeted 86 percent over 30 years, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature, which has placed it on its red list of threatened species.

While they are still a long way from extinction in Gabon, Moukagni said the country had a dual responsibility "to keep this species alive for the world and for the sustainability of forests".

Last December, just three months after seizing power in a military coup, transitional President Brice Oligui Nguema publicly sided with "victims of human-wildlife conflict", in a shift from the conservation priorities of the previous government.

"I authorise you to kill these elephants... I am a humanist," he told the crowd to applause, also announcing he had asked for "all those jailed for killing elephants to be released without delay and conditions".

Jeremy Mapangou, a lawyer with the NGO Conservation Justice, said the message to the people was "strong" but added: "When the president said 'shoot them', he was referring to self-defence."

Hunting and catching elephants in Gabon is banned and carries a jail term. Ivory trafficking is also severely punished.

But in cases of self-defense, the killing of an elephant is permitted under certain conditions.

The weapon must comply with the law, the relevant administration must be informed, a report written and the ivory handed over as "state property".

Other measures permit the worst-affected communities to file a complaint and request "administrative hunting" to remove the four-legged troublemakers.

"But how can you file a complaint against an elephant?" Marc Ngondet, Bakoussou village chief, asked.

Mibambani Ndimba, wildlife management chief in the environment ministry, stressed that "the protection of elephants remains a priority".

Known as the "forest gardener", the mammals play a crucial role in the biodiversity and ecosystem of the forests of the Congo Basin, which has the second-biggest carbon absorption capacity in the world after the Amazon.

"We must provide help to Gabon so that we do not get to situations where the population rises up and wants to take justice into its own hands," Mibambani Ndimba said.

Otherwise, "elephant heads will roll".