Recent tragic incidents involving Kurdish porters, known as "kolbers," highlight the grave dangers they face along the mountainous borders of Northern Iraq and Iran. These men, often driven by the dire economic conditions of their communities, risk their lives to transport goods across treacherous terrains amid extreme weather.
On the evening of January 8, farmers and local merchants had alerted 13 kolbers about the smuggling routes, promising them compensation for transporting 720 kilograms of clothing from Iraq to Iran. The porters were aware of the heightened risks, but the lure of surviving on their meager earnings propelled them to undertake the perilous crossing.
Initially optimistic, the kolbers set out from the village of "Nnor" to the border, anticipating to traverse the roughly five-kilometer trek under challenging conditions. Waiting for them were soaring mountains covered with ice and snow. Unfortunately, conditions quickly took a turn, and by mid-afternoon, they were trapped by heavy snowfall.
Upon reaching the border, the kolbers discovered no sign of the anticipated exchange of livestock, merely bureaucratic obstacles; the smuggling route was closed. Word spread quickly through the line, prompting the group to attempt retracing their steps.
Just moments after their return toward safety, the weather proved too unforgiving. Idris, one of the porters, succumbed to the freezing temperatures. Local villagers, having heard of their plight, mobilized urgently to rescue the trapped porters, knowing full well the perils of frostbite from prolonged exposure.
Despite the concerted rescue efforts from roughly 400 villagers who braved the icy conditions to reach their friends, Idris was already dead by the time help arrived. His tragic fate serves as evidence of the socioeconomic struggles defined by looming poverty and lack of support from their government.
This tragedy stems largely from the region's economic conditions, as these communities lie at the border territories where clashes between economic survival and governmental negligence play out. Poor villagers are left with little choice, often resorting to becoming kolbers, which remains the only means for many men to provide for their families.
The political negligence is underscored by the fact many of these men now face not only severe weather but also hunger and lack of access to heating, as utility cuts during extreme conditions often leave them unprotected.
Since the winter began with its frigid, unforgiving grasp over the Kurdish region, these sensory cleavages have only worsened, with residents often forced to burn wood, when available, to stay warm.
Idris was just 36, leaving behind two children, ages two and eight. His passing reveals the grim reality of kolbers, and the lives lost over time due to systemic failures within the national infrastructure, which fails to address the economic and health needs of its marginalized populations.
It is estimated since the beginning of this year, ten kolbers have lost their lives due to environmental exposure. Yet, not all tragedies stem from the cold; young men often face treacherous encounters where mines and military conflict claim lives too.
“The sad irony is, the peak season for kolbari coincides with the harshest weather, aimed at evading authorities. This is their only chance,” said Hussain, another kolber from the region who elaborated on the tragic occupational hazards.
Hussain explains how young boys are thrust against the adverse challenges meant not just for survival but often lie behind stigma and familial responsibility, as they carry the weight of their households on their backs, literally.
The dire realities surrounding the economic and social circumstances within Kurdish regions create perils for everyone who attempts to survive there. It’s common to see fathers and brothers venture out together to make deliveries, but now they also brace for potential health failures during what should be routine processes.
Further complicate matters, local residents can no longer rely on familiar means to settle debts among those who handle the border’s goods. The rising tensions of illegal crossings often lead them to bankruptcy if they skip the borders and attempt smuggling lower-practice goods.
“This is our only means of survival,” lamented Hussain. “If my son can’t carry the weight by the time he’s tall enough to walk on his own, all hope is lost.”
Hussain recounts curves and tillage, drowned by familial expectations, remind him it is hardly just personal gain. Surpassing the neighbor’s scant produce becomes fodder to the plague and hiring people like him to go over the mountains eats away at men’s rights.
At the end of the day, as individuals' worth shifts under relentless pressure from higher authorities, men of these regions valiantly endure the cold and the exchanges of animosity just for survival.
The stories of hardship echo across literature and continues to play out across international dialogues, but pressing needs remain. For those left behind, recovering from loss is impossible without drastic change.
Idris’s death is just another chapter for the unintended victims trapped between borders, yet it pushes everyone to confront the underlying issues beyond such tragedies and seek justice amid poverty.
This dying need for change reiterates as Hussain states, “We might be at the edge of the world, but we all have dreams; what we need is for anyone out there to hear us.”