Ordinary Iraqis bear brunt of war

Little Zeinab Yasseen was still asleep as the third Ramadan of her young life dawned. Like every night, she had drifted off listening to the chatter of the 26 relatives who also shared the house in Baghdad's poor Al Shaab neighborhood.

She awoke to her home collapsing on her. A car bomb exploded in front of the police station down the street, but it brought the roof down on Yasseen and her family. Somehow, everyone survived.

But 17 months later, Zeinab still can't move her legs. And the family is still recovering - emotionally, financially, and physically - from that instant of devastation.

Each explosion of this kind deepens Iraqis' doubts about the US and Iraqi government's ability to bring order. But whatever each attack costs the this government in credibility, it is ordinary Iraqis who pay the highest price.

Thursday's bombings in Baghdad brought more of the same.

After a steady decline in attacks during the last three months, insurgents launched a string of assaults this week, including coordinated car bombings, a reminder they continue to have the resources and expertise to strike apparently at will. Two car bombs went off a minute and a few hundred yards apart Thursday around 10 a.m. in the Baghdad neighborhood of Jadriyah.

US soldiers at the scene said 14 Iraqis were killed and 38 were wounded. Among the dead were a 14-year-old and a 17-year-old, brothers who were working painting the street curb. The series of attacks may signal a return to the levels of attacks seen before the Jan. 30 elections, a pattern predicted by many US military analysts who say history shows that the average insurgency takes about 10 years to put down.

Near the site of the first bomb, the back window of a car was blown out and lay on the ground littered with twisted black metal. A yellow decal on the cracked window read in Arabic: "In the name of God the compassionate, the merciful." The opening line of the first chapter of the Koran was meant to protect the car's owner.

For Zeinab's family, Thursday's attacks stir painful memories. The same October morning in 2003 when Zeinab was injured, four other car bombs ripped across Baghdad, killing some 43 people in one of the best orchestrated attacks up to that point. The day solidified the car bomb as the new weapon of choice in the escalating insurgency.

And almost a year-and-a-half later, Zeinab's family is still recovering. "The doctor said maybe it will get better," says Ashwaq Muhsin, Zeinab's mother. She has sold her jewelry to put food on the table. "She needs new clothes," adds Mrs. Muhsin. The family - all 27 of them - now live in four 15-foot by 20-foot municipal buildings since their home was destroyed.

Iraqi families like the Yasseens fall between the cracks of the meager state support networks that exist in Iraq. The US military offers compensation, but only for damage or death caused by the military. Victims of car bombings and other violence don't qualify. Most humanitarian organizations fled Iraq when the United Nations headquarters was attacked with a car bomb in August 2003.

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