Rebuilding Dreams After Displacement – Some Dreams Have No Expiration Date

December 31, 2024
a group of people sitting at a table

In the resilient landscape of Salah al-Din's Baiji district, where the scars of conflict and displacement are etched into the earth, the story of Liqaa Hamed emerges as a beacon of hope. At 28, Liqaa's journey is one of unyielding perseverance—of how she fought to reclaim her dreams after nearly a decade of displacement, loss, and adversity.

For nine years, Liqaa and her family lived in limbo, uprooted from their home by the brutal violence of war. What followed was a relentless cycle of uncertainty, with every step forward fraught with challenges. The pain of leaving her childhood home was compounded by the trauma of losing loved ones, and the dream she had cherished since childhood—to become a teacher—seemed to slip further out of reach.

But in 2023, after years of struggle, Liqaa's family finally returned to the place they once called home. Yet, their return was not to a place of peace but a landscape marked by loss, destruction, and an overwhelming sense of displacement. With no real sense of security, no steady livelihood, and a broken community, rebuilding seemed an impossible task.

However, Liqaa’s journey would take a surprising turn when she joined a Cash for Work program implemented by UNDP and World Vision International, with generous support from USAID. The initial goal was modest—simply to earn enough to cover the basic needs of her family—but what she received in return was far greater than financial assistance.

"At first, I thought the program was just about the money," she says, reflecting on her initial doubts. "But as I got involved, I realized it was about something more profound—something that touched my soul. It was about finding hope, healing, and a new way of seeing myself and my future."

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The Power of Psychological Support

One of the most pivotal aspects of the program was the psychological support sessions, where Liqaa was encouraged to reflect on her journey and the toll the years of displacement had taken on her. "The sessions were a turning point," she recalls. "They helped me understand how I had survived, and more importantly, how my true strength was revealed not in the crisis but in the moments when I reflected on how I had overcome it."

These therapeutic sessions were not just about processing trauma; they empowered her to confront fears that had long held her back—fears of rejection, of being stigmatized, and of not belonging. The fear of being an outsider, especially when surrounded by others who had never lived in the refugee camps, weighed heavily on her. "I worried the others would look down on me," Liqaa admits. "I was terrified that the children would see me as different, an outsider who didn’t belong."

But when the work began, something unexpected happened. "The children treated me as one of their own, as a teacher," Liqaa says with a smile. "I could see the joy in their faces as they came to class, the way they rallied together, breaking down the walls that had divided us. It was the first time I truly felt like I was coming home."

Rediscovering the Dream of Teaching

Liqaa’s dream to teach had seemed a distant memory, eclipsed by the harsh realities of war and displacement. "Before the war, I was on my way to graduating from the College of Education," she remembers. "But when everything collapsed, I lost my sense of direction. I never imagined I would stand in front of a classroom again."

But when the children, with their innocent enthusiasm, began calling her "Teacher Liqaa," her heart swelled with a powerful realization: "Some dreams have no expiration date." That moment, when a child asked her for lessons every day, was a profound reminder that despite the years of loss, her dream was still alive. "I never thought I would be teaching again. But here I was, helping these children rebuild their future while also rebuilding my own."

The Transformative Power of Community

Through her role in the program, Liqaa discovered that real transformation comes not just through individual effort but through community support. Working together with other returnees, she experienced firsthand the strength of collective action, where each person's effort contributed to the broader healing of a community.

"At first, I thought I was just helping the students," she says. "But I soon realized that the program helped all of us—the teachers, the students, the families. We were all healing together, learning to trust again, to believe in each other again."

Her newfound sense of belonging wasn’t just a result of her work in the classroom but the deep connections she built within the community. "I made lifelong friends during this process," Liqaa adds. "People I would never have met if I hadn’t stepped out of my comfort zone. We laughed, cried, and supported each other. It was the beginning of my real return home."

A New Beginning Amidst Old Wounds

The memories of the displacement—of the airstrikes, the deaths, the separation from her family—will never leave Liqaa. "My sister died in one of the bombings. I couldn’t even afford to get her medical treatment. My family lost so much," she says softly. But through the pain, there is now a sense of purpose. "The project allowed us to process those wounds. It didn’t erase them, but it helped us carry them with dignity and strength."
 

a group of people sitting at a table


The Path Forward: Rebuilding a Future

Though her life remains far from easy, Liqaa’s involvement in the Cash for Work project has given her a renewed sense of purpose. It sparked her to return to her studies and pursue her teaching qualifications again. "I didn’t just find a job—I found my passion again," she says. "Teaching is not just a job for me. It’s a way to heal, to give back, and to ensure that the next generation doesn’t lose their dreams the way we almost lost ours."

As Liqaa reflects on her journey, she knows there is still much work to be done. "We need more help—more support for mental health, more services, more stability. But I know that if we continue working together, we will rebuild not just our homes, but our futures."

Her story is a testament to the power of resilience—that even in the darkest times, the human spirit can rise. Some dreams, like Liqaa’s, have no expiration date. They may fade, but they never die. And when given the chance, they can be rebuilt stronger than ever, one small step at a time.