LAYLAN, Iraq: No documents? No doctor. Without state-issued IDs, Iraqi mothers struggle to have children born under the now-defeated Daesh treated for conditions ranging from asthma to epilepsy.
鈥淚t鈥檚 unjust,鈥� said Salima, a 36-year-old mother of four living in the Laylan 2 displacement camp in northern Iraq.
Three of her children were born under Daesh rule and cannot go to school or leave the camp because they lack state-issued identity papers 鈥� including Abdulkarim, who was struggling to nap in her lap on a muggy afternoon.
The toddler鈥檚 breathing was strained, his tiny chest heaving. The asthma, Salima said, was getting worse.
鈥淭here鈥檚 a clinic in the camp but it鈥檚 no good. They refer us to hospitals but the camp security won鈥檛 let us go,鈥� she said, stroking his head.
To leave Laylan 2 even briefly, displaced families need to present IDs to the federal police at the entrance and sometimes even get a sponsor to vouch for them.
Salima said she tried numerous times to take Abdulkarim to a specialist in nearby Kirkuk, but was not allowed to leave.
And trying to have IDs issued for her three stateless children has proved almost impossible, as both parents鈥� papers need to be submitted.
Her husband was an Daesh member killed in fighting, which means Salima鈥檚 own papers have been confiscated by camp security.
鈥淚鈥檝e been trying to get our papers issued for seven months and haven鈥檛 been able to, because we鈥檙e 鈥楧aesh鈥� families,鈥� she told AFP.
鈥淭his affects my children in every way 鈥� from a security perspective, economically, health-wise, education.鈥�
Iraq declared victory over Daesh in late 2017, but the extremists鈥� three-year reign over swathes of the country planted a destructive and long-lasting legacy.
Much of Iraq remains in ruins, with 1.6 million people still displaced.
Among them are 45,000 children living in camps who were born under Daesh and are therefore lacking state-issued legal documents, the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) recently found.
These children cannot register for school or access steady health care, and may not be able to marry or own property, the NRC said.
The effects on health care are not uniform nationwide, and appeared to vary depending on the checkpoint or facility.
Laylan 2 seemed to have the toughest restrictions, according to camp representative Hussein Habd, 53.
鈥淭hree-fourths of the families in the camp don鈥檛 have IDs and cannot exit. Even if they鈥檙e sick, if they have cancer or skin diseases, they鈥檙e barred from leaving,鈥� he told AFP.
At a checkpoint a few kilometers (miles) away, a member of the security forces said orders allowed them to let medical cases through, even without paperwork.
Around Hawija, 80 kilometers (50 miles) to the west, the NRC found infants without papers were denied vaccinations, reportedly causing an emergence of scabies, measles and other diseases.
And further north in Mosul, Daesh鈥檚 onetime Iraqi capital, women without paperwork were not allowed to give birth in hospitals, according to the NRC, which in turn impacted newborns鈥� access to state-issued birth certificates.
The NRC warned that could condemn children to 鈥渓ife on the margins.鈥�
鈥淚f this issue is not addressed immediately, it could spiral. This issue did not end with the conflict against Daesh,鈥� said NRC spokeswoman Alexandra Saieh.
The lack of documentation has also impeded families鈥� ability to register for state welfare programs.
That restriction has been devastating for five-year-old Methaq.
鈥淢y son has epilepsy, autism, and no ID,鈥� his mother Alaa Hamza told AFP in a shabby home they rent in Hawija.
Born less than a week after Daesh overran their hometown in 2014, Methaq was never issued a birth certificate.
He now suffers from seizures and mood swings. But sustained care seems a long way off.
Hamza splayed out the contents of a plastic bag on the torn carpet in their living room 鈥� medical prescriptions, brain scans, and other tests dating back to 2017.
鈥淲e went to four different doctors, every time they take money: $250 in Kirkuk for an EEG, then another $150 for more tests,鈥� she said, which she paid for through donations.
鈥淥ur financial situation is dire, and we need to get him an ID so he can benefit from state health care,鈥� she said.
But she can鈥檛 even afford that.
鈥淚f I want to get him one, it will cost me between 25,000 and 30,000 IQD (around $25). We don鈥檛 have it,鈥� she said.
Methaq currently takes a nightly pill to ease his seizures, donated by Doctors Without Borders. His mother said he needs more intensive help.
鈥淗e鈥檚 five and doesn鈥檛 speak yet. I鈥檓 worried for his future,鈥� she said.