Marooned on Sea of Iraqi Oil, but Unable to Tap Its Wealth
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Poverty is rampant in Basra, Iraq, despite its oil fields. Few area
residents can find jobs at the nearby refinery.
By TIMOTHY WILLIAMS
Published: November 7, 2009
BASRA, Iraq b The orange glow of the giant natural gas flares in the
oil fields around Basra represents this bustling citybs wealth of
natural resources. But for the impoverished people who live near them,
the flames only serve as a reminder of their inability to share in the
riches that lie beneath their feet.
A lack of sanitation services in Basra breeds flies, like those
swarming a sleeping baby.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
Vendors in Basra cannot afford vehicles.
The New York Times
Up to 80 percent of Iraq's oil comes from the Basra area.
The area around Basra, Iraqbs second largest city and main port,
accounts for as much as 80 percent of the countrybs oil production. It
has emerged as Iraqbs best hope for stability and prosperity as it
prepares to sell off its top undeveloped oil fields to foreign
companies at an auction next month. Of the five largest fields that
will be bid on, four are in or around Basra.
Despite the riches trapped below its oil fields, though, this city of
three million is among Iraqbs poorest places.
People in neighborhoods within a few miles of fields with so much oil
that it floats atop the surface in huge black pools live amid mud and
feces. Carts pulled by overworked donkeys compete with cars for space
on streets. Childhood cancer rates are the highest in the country. The
citybs salty tap water makes people ill. And there is more garbage on
the streets than municipal collectors can make a dent in.
The hundreds of thousands who live in the villages around the fields
all dream of finding oil work, but that is unlikely. Those who apply
are almost always told they lack the education or experience for oil
work. But they believe that their only real deficiency is a lack of
connections and money for bribes.
bPeople sit here in the evenings and they watch the flames and wonder
how rich they would be if they had only one hour of those oil
exports,b said Naeem al-Moussuawi, who lives in one of the poorer
villages in the Basra area.
Last month, after Iraqbs Oil Ministry announced that it planned to
hire workers for its Basra-based South Oil Company, thousands of
people waited in line for applications b some for days. Among them
were men in tattered clothing with bare, muddy feet. When the line got
unruly, the police were called. Some applicants were beaten. More than
27,000 applications were filled out for 1,600 jobs b most of which
require a college education or experience, and most Basrans have
neither.
In the village of Asdika, oil pipelines run along the perimeter, and
several thousand people live in ramshackle houses of gray cinder
blocks and plastic sheeting for roofs.
There is no garbage collection, and household trash is thrown outside
to rot in the sun. There is no sewer system, so wastewater from houses
is dumped outside, attracting thousands of flies to the lakes of raw
sewage that have formed outside most homes. Almost everyone is
unemployed.
The village is on government property b an oil field b and its
existence is illegal. Residents say the police show up occasionally
and threaten to bulldoze the houses.
Hussein Flaeh, 29, an unemployed father of two, has lived in Asdika
since 2003. Fifteen members of his family live in a concrete-block
house with three small rooms. One recent morning, Mr. Flaehbs youngest
child, Essam, born two weeks ago, was placed outside to get some fresh
air. The babybs face was almost immediately covered by hungry flies.
Asked whether he had ever applied for a job at the oil refinery, Mr.
Flaeh appeared perplexed and did not answer. Pressed, his gentle face
turned hard.
bYou canbt even reach it,b he said. bDonbt even talk about it.b
Government officials in Basra have called for a fee of $1 on each
barrel of oil produced in the province, which would then be used for
local projects instead of going to the central government. But even if
Basra suddenly became awash in oil money, the construction of new
housing, offices and even farmland would be prohibited because almost
everything is situated atop untapped reserves of crude oil.
bNinety percent of Basra is an oil field,b said Ahmed al-Sulati, a
member of the local provincial council. bWe canbt build anything here.
We need to have more housing in some neighborhoods, but we canbt
because we are surrounded by oil.b
In the meantime, Mr. Sulati said, bWe are getting sick from breathing
gas, and the streets are getting destroyed by the oil trucks.b
During a recent speech, Ali Ghalib Baban, Iraqbs minister of planning,
said Basra was on the cusp of being bone of the worldbs most important
economic centers.b
But in the village of Shuiba, so close to the citybs refinery and
major fields that the air is heavy with the smell of petroleum,
farmers have stopped growing tomatoes and now rent their fields to
truck drivers who park their tankers there for about 80 cents a night.
It is the villagebs single school, however, that is the source of most
of Shuibabs concerns. Some classes have more than 55 students packed
inside, and boys and girls must be taught together, which has led some
parents to keep their daughters at home. There are no bathrooms, and
some classrooms have no electricity. The school grounds are littered
with piles of garbage.
Oil workers live on the opposite side of the village.
In the poorer half of Shuiba, the workers are regarded with envy and
loathing. Not a single resident from the poor side has been hired for
an oil job.
bEveryone would like to work for the oil company,b Mr. Moussuawi said.
bWe know we are poor and many of us are not well educated. The problem
is they see the trucks full of oil and they wonder where the money is
going.b
But even in Shuibabs better-off half, adjacent to Basrabs sprawling
refinery, residents say they have unmet needs. The housing is neat,
there is no trash and the streets are paved, but there is crowding and
rising unemployment even among the college-educated sons and daughters
of oil company managers, they say.
bYou need to know somebody or pay a bribe to work there,b said Najim
Khadim, 26, the son of Shuibabs unofficial mayor, Mohammed Khadim, who
has worked for 38 years at the refinery, where he is a supervisor.
The son, who has a college degree in chemistry, said not even his
father had been able to help with a job. The going rate for bribes for
a job, he said, is $2,000 to $5,000, which he said he refused to pay.
A visitor is brought a glass of tap water. It tastes as salty as the
water in the rest of town.
Duraid Adnan and Iraqi employees of The New York Times contributed reporting.