Let's Talk About Rape — Empowering survivors, changing the narrative

We were sold at very low prices or given away as “gifts.” They treated us as if we weren’t human, solely because of our faith and identity as Yazidis.

Najma

ISIS captivity and sex slave survivor from Iraq

My name is Najma Haji, and I am from the village of Kojjo. I was kidnapped by ISIS and held captive for five years. ISIS besieged our village and trapped us, surrounding Kojjo because we are Yazidi, and our religion is different. They attacked and occupied the area, forcing us to convert from Yazidism to Islam. They captured all the villagers, taking us to the school and demanding our conversion. When we refused, they separated the men from the women and killed all the men in Kojjo.

Afterwards, they moved the women to the village of Solagh, where we stayed for two nights. During that time, they separated and killed the elderly women, including my mother. The younger women, along with the virgins, were then taken to a school in Tal Afar, where we remained for 13 days. We were sold at very low prices or given away as “gifts.” They treated us as if we weren’t human, solely because of our faith and identity as Yazidis.

During my captivity, I was treated as a possession, trafficked without any formal marriage or contract—simply bought to be used and sold again.

Najma

Let’s Talk About Rape® is a collaborative, therapeutic project empowering survivors to reclaim their narratives. Through self-portraiture using a shutter release cable, participants set their own agenda as a tool for healing.

Najma. Duhok, Kurdistan, Iraq 2024

I was moved from the school to a village where we were held for three months. After that, I, one of my sisters, and a group of other girls were transferred to a hall between Tal Afar and Mosul, where we stayed for 29 days and were sold repeatedly. From there, we were taken to Raqqa, Syria, and distributed among ISIS leaders. I was sold, along with my sister and other girls, to a leader from Al-Oseiba, near the Syria-Iraq border. Only two days later, they separated me from my sister and sold her as well.

After they took my sister, I was sold to another family but didn’t stay long. Heartbroken, I asked why they’d taken my sister and left me alone. They responded by selling me yet again. I was moved to a place called Bikanan, where I remained for three months before being sold to Tabqa, where I stayed for about a month. Over the years, I was trafficked through various locations, from Syria to Al-Oseiba, Bukkamal, Gobra, and Sousi, constantly sold and repeatedly raped.

Najma. Duhok, Kurdistan, Iraq 2024

They killed my father, mother, and all my brothers. Only my sisters and I survived, although we were separated and returned at different times. After five years, I finally escaped this hell. During my captivity, I was treated as a possession, trafficked without any formal marriage or contract—simply bought to be used and sold again. The last man who purchased me wrote a marriage contract, and I stayed with him for a longer period.

Later, I was injured by shrapnel in the Baqush area, bleeding heavily from my chest. I couldn’t receive treatment for almost a month due to blocked roads. Eventually, a doctor warned them that I would die without proper care, so I was moved to the Al-Hol camp, with plans to send me to Turkey for treatment. At Al-Hol, I managed to contact my uncle in Germany, memorising his phone number throughout my captivity. I told him I was at the camp and could barely stand.

My uncle contacted a Yazidi man in Syria, who came and took me to his home and later to the Al-Hasakah hospital, where I received treatment and stayed for 18 days. He then took me to the Iraqi border and handed me over to Iraqi forces. I will never forget what happened; the ordeal was relentless, and I was in dire health. Even now, fragments of the shrapnel remain in my body, causing ongoing pain.

After my return, I underwent several surgeries due to the injuries, living in the Qadisiya camp with my young daughter, separated from my surviving sisters, who had moved to Germany.

My daughter, born on 18 May, was with me the entire time we were in captivity. They never separated us. She gave me the strength to keep going—I always told myself I had to survive for her.

They warned that if I tried again, I would never see her. That threat was the only thing that stopped me.

Through it all, I never stopped believing they would be held accountable. I told my captors that God would see their crimes, that we would rise above their cruelty, and they would answer for what they’d done. Surviving didn’t kill us; it only made us stronger.

Najma

Before our capture, I never imagined living on my own or managing my life independently. Our society relied heavily on men, and women were not expected to fend for themselves in the same way. But everything I’ve endured has shown me my strength. Now I live with my daughter and take pride in knowing that hardships can’t break us; they make us stronger.

I share my story now to inspire other women: defend your rights, and always demand them.

Text translated by Saada Silo Hussein