Aset Mutsuyeva lives in a barn – and believe it or not,
for that, she counts herself lucky.
After all, some of the dozens of other Chechen refugees housed
in a former farm in Karabulak, Russia, live with actual cows, whose smell becomes
overpowering when temperatures soar past 100 degrees.
Aset Mutsuyeva lives in a barn – and believe it or not,
for that, she counts herself lucky.
After all, some of the dozens of other Chechen refugees housed
in a former farm in Karabulak, Russia, live with actual cows, whose smell becomes
overpowering when temperatures soar past 100 degrees.
However, Mutsuyeva does not consider herself completely fortunate.
At 63 years old, with shrapnel in her right leg from a Russian bomb and coming
up on her fourth year in the refugee settlement, Mutsuyeva admits she has given
up hope that she will live to see peace in a region where war has raged and
sputtered for years now.
“(With) Iraq, no one will pay attention to our problem,”
Mutsuyeva explains as she sits on a tiny stool in a friends cubicle in
the barn. “Maybe it would be better if it were all ended with a nuclear
bomb, and we were killed that way.”
Refugees poverty, hopelessness and sense that the world
has forgotten their predicament combine to send many of them into a deep and
lasting funk, say medical workers with World Vision, the American-based Christian
humanitarian organization that offers these survivors free care.
Women especially struggle with depression and thoughts of suicide
in the deeply-traditional, staunchly-Muslim and rigidly-patriarchal Chechen
society, a World Vision psychologist notes.
“Just a few days ago, I had a woman come to me and say,
You know, I dont eat – only when my five children and my husband
are full, only then do I eat what is left over,” Maya Ezhiyeva relates.
“This war touched everyone. They lost someone close to them, killed or
disappeared. People live with this trauma every day.”
Of course, as Mutsuyeva bemoans, many outside of Chechnya likely
think seldom of events in that part of the world.
After all, they have a long history.
The truth is that the Chechen people have known off-and-on
war with its Russian neighbors for more than 200 years.
In 1944, former Russian leader Josef Stalin accused the Chechen
people of siding with the Germans during World War II. He deported all of them
and removed the name of Chechnya from all history books.
After Stalin died, the Chechen people walked back home. In
1991, when the Soviet Union was crumbling, Chechnya declared its independence.
Russia invaded – and fighting essentially has continued
since then.
Now, once a week, Ezhiyeva and three other doctors arrive at
the dairy farm/refugee camp in Karabulak and spend the day in a small olive
green canvas tent, the interior of which is partitioned by white sheets to give
each doctor privacy for examinations. Ezhiyeva plays relaxing music on a small
tape player so that she and her patients cannot be overheard.
What Ezhiyeva hears over and over again is that people –
especially mothers – have no hope for their children.
“Some weep because they lost their children,” she
says. “Others weep because they are afraid of losing their children.”
Indeed, Chechnya remains a dangerous place, even though Russian
leaders have claimed an end to their military operations.
Last month, the Russian government heavily promoted a referendum
in which 95 percent of the voters allegedly supported a new constitution reaffirming
the republics membership in the Russian federation.
However, opposition leaders derided the referendum results
– and the frequent bombings, kidnappings and skirmishes between remaining
Russian soldiers and Chechen rebels have continued.
Such dangers hinder the work of Christian relief efforts, including
those of World Vision. The organization operates four mobile medical teams,
two among refugees in the neighboring republic of Ingushetia and two in Chechnya
itself.
“I dont go anywhere without a man with a gun,”
program manager Perry Mansfield admits. “It is clear that it is not safe
there, no matter how much the government says the military phase is over. …
I cant monitor what we do in Chechnya. I cant assess the need in
Chechnya.”
Despite passage of the referendum and the promise by Russian
officials of amnesty for certain Chechen rebels, fear and uncertainty reign
in the region.
World Vision doctors cite the Russian militarys so-called
“cleanup” operations as the biggest single source of anxiety. Indeed,
human rights organizations report that the dreaded cleanups often amount to
little more than the kidnapping of young Chechen men by Russian mercenaries.
The cost of buying a relatives release begins at $1,000,
reports indicate. Ezhiyeva says Chechens may be baffled by the larger causes
of the wars and lawlessness plaguing their land, but they understand perfectly
well the business of kidnapping.
Zaiba Gezmakhmayeva, 64, certainly does as he discusses the
plight of a boy relative who recently went missing.
“If it works out well, well pay his ransom,”
he says. “If not, hell just disappear.
“Well never see him again.” (RNS)