The horrific atrocities committed by the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) when it invaded Syria and Iraq in 2014 shocked the world.
Execution-style killing of civilians, entire communities uprooted, mass rape, the wanton destruction of property, and the genocide of the Yazidi minority, left deep scars.
It also forced tens of thousands of women and children into impossible situations over which they had no control, and which changed their lives forever.
Dunia’s* husband joined ISIL soon after it swept into the ancient Ninevah city of Mosul, smashing Iraq’s most precious cultural heritage and crushing and imprisoning its residents for three years.
“No wife would wish that her husband joined ISIL. Neither myself nor my children had a choice in being related to a militant,” she says.
Sara, newly married, also found herself trapped in a life she could not have envisioned.
“He joined two months after we were married. Pregnant, I had no choice but to stay,” she says.
Fatima, likewise, could not prevent her husband’s decision to join ISIL.
“As a woman, I had no authority over him.”
And Fatima’s nightmare did not end when ISIL was vanquished in 2017. She had become a widow and the impossible decisions continued to stack up as Iraqis turned their rage on anybody related to their former oppressors.
“The rumours were that my children would be killed or tortured,” she says. Facing no other option, she went to Al Hol, the refugee camp in northern Syria notorious for its violence and squalid and inhumane conditions.
Clemira fled for the same reason to the same camp.
“We experienced fear. The situation was harsh,” she says. “My husband brought this bad situation on us.”
Thousands of Iraqi women can tell the same story--left to bring up children alone, separated from families, living in poverty in displacement or refugee sites, struggling to free themselves from the stigma of their husbands’ crimes.
These families not only faced great hardship but were at risk of being radicalized. Studies have shown that extremist attitudes flourish when people are locked away together without even the basic resources to sustain a dignified life.
By the time ISIL was defeated in 2017, there was US$80 billion of damage, 11 million people dependent on humanitarian aid, and more than six million displaced from their homes.
The Iraqi government estimates that as of 2022 amongst the displaced were 250,000 wives, children or parents with perceived affiliation to ISIL.
Undaunted by these massive numbers, Iraqi authorities and communities plunged into healing the material, social and psychological wounds left in the wake of the conflict.
With the support of UNDP, they are painstakingly working to safely return and reintegrate families formerly associated with ISIL, and who have received security clearance, to mend communities traumatized by violence.
“When you see a family living in a tent and they are doing their best, it really hurts. There is a will to return these people. The journey of a thousand mile starts with one step,” says General Omar Khamis, Commander of Police in Al-Qaim, an important Iraqi-Syrian border town that was one of the first to be seized by ISIL.
The UN and its partners delivered shelter, food, education, and other life-saving help. UNDP focused on supporting local governments as they reconstructed social infrastructure, working with people to learn new skills to enable them to find jobs, start businesses, and build peace.
“From 2017 until now, we have been in full swing to restore what was destroyed. Dozens of schools were restored and new ones were built, as well as water and electricity plants,” says Khaled Abdullah, Mayor of Al-Rummanah, one of the last towns to be liberated.
Real progress is being seen. Humanitarian aid met the immediate needs of the large swaths of displaced people, while development activities were, very early in the crisis, able to establish the conditions for voluntary return.
More than five million people have made it home so far. Once home, they could re-establish livelihoods and no longer needed humanitarian aid.
Dunia, Fatima, Sara and Clemira, and the tens of thousands of other women and children they represent, are key to the success of the programme.
“It is by far one of the largest returns, globally speaking. The most difficult part is the last mile; returning the one million people who are still displaced. One of the most difficult issues is that many of those families are what we call perceived ISIL-affiliated families,” says Auke Lootsma, Resident Representative, UNDP Iraq.
When Fatima and her children finally left Al Hol Camp, and to assist with their transition, they stayed for six months at the Jeddah Rehabilitation Centre in Nineva. Now, UNDP is supporting them as they return home to Anbar.
By working closely with the government, building local networks and peace agreements, UNDP has prepared communities in Anbar, Ninewa, Salah al-Din, and Kirkuk to accept 9,000 formerly associated ISIL families back to their communities.
“There must be a consideration for the families who experienced direct harm as well as for those returning families, so they are not turned into enemies. It is a time bomb and must be addressed through education, training and the media,” says Khaled Abdullah.
“It’s a comprehensive solution for people who have a perceived link with ISIL, making sure that when they return home they can do it in a way that is acceptable to everyone and they can live a peaceful and prosperous life,” says Auke Lootsma.
Iraqis still struggle with poverty and divisions, but the country is emerging from a painful chapter. So much so that humanitarian aid is being phased out. The focus is on lasting development so communities can become resilient in a region often destabilized by conflict.
The long nightmare behind them, Dunia, Fatima, Sara and Clemira have been able to re-establish themselves with homes and livelihoods. Sara has been living in Anbar since 2020 and is happy to be back amongst her loved ones.
© 2026 United Nations Development Programme