No one Cares

Hayat Murad is a struggling artist who, with her family, returned to her Shingali home after nine years in an Internally Displaced Persons camp as they had to flee from Da’esh attacks on the Ezidi community. She has acquired much attention for her striking artworks as well as her appearance.

Her works have been exhibited abroad and even posted by the Nobel Prize laureate and female education activist, Malal Yousafzai, on social media. Even though conditions are unsafe and unstable in Shingal, she continues to paint about what she sees around her, documenting its terrors as well as drawing inspiration from stories of resilience and strength.

I am not free to speak. It is not safe here. Every day I see violence. There are so many different military groups in Shingal. Many people fear that we will become targets again.

Ezidi families that managed to flee from Da’esh violence in 2014 ended up in Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps in which they have continued to live for years. Some managed to leave the IDP camp to head towards Europe as they saw no future for them in the desperate conditions of the refuge. A few returned to Shingal to try and forge a new life there even though the district is still not a safe place. It is populated by people, some of whom had supported Da’esh, immersed in prejudice and hate speech against Ezidi minorities, and roaming with various armed groups fighting each other for dominance in this border region.

Hayat Murad is one of those who with her family fled to the IDP camp in 2014. They then returned to their hometown in Shingal to the south of the mountain in 2023. She has become well-known for her artworks as well as one of “100 Most Beautiful Faces” in the world in 2025 as organised by the film critic, T.C. Candler, for people recognised for their public work, cultural diversity and aesthetic grace. Her artworks have been exhibited abroad for the two hundredth anniversary of the Focke Museum of Art and Cultural History in Bremen, Germany. Yet, she has not been able to participate in any such exhibitions overseas.

‘Nobody’s Listening’ by Hayat Murad.

Her work, “Nobody’s Listening,” portrays the Ezidi survivor, activist and Nobel Peace laureate, Nadia Murad, addressing a room of indifferent officials who have their backs turned, symbolising the painful global silence and failure to truly hear her pleas for help. This sentiment of nobody’s listening is not just about the genocide but continues to this day as nobody seems to care about the ongoing prejudices, difficultues and dangers for Ezidi people in the region as well as overseas.

Hayat is the eldest of four brothers and one sister who grew up not too far from the village from which Nadia was abducted into a brutal life of slavery by Da’esh. Her mother is an agricultural worker, and her father works for the Iraqi national television station, Al Iraqiya. She reflected on her journey:

“My childhood was like any other. We had lots of fun, playing outside our home. We used to play with dolls, hopscotch, hide-and-seek, those kinds of games. I miss that period. I was a teenager when Da’esh came to attack us and had to flee. I miss that empty space between childhood and being an adult.”

While she practiced drawing at school, it was not something she was confident about: “I loved drawing, but I didn’t think much of them. I didn’t know then that I could be an artist.” None of these drawings are with her, however, as they had to leave them behind in the escape from Da’esh.

As her father worked for the television station—first as a guard and then trained as an editor—he got to hear about the Da’esh onslaught relatively early. In June, a month before Da’esh occupied and destroyed Mosul, he advised his family to pack and to go to their uncle’s place away from Shingal. Hayat recalled:

“We left so many things behind in our home. We thought that Da’esh would attack but we did not expect that it would be so terrible. At that point, we thought we would come back to our homes. We also thought that the army would defend us from Da’esh.”

But as is well-known, there was no protection for the Ezidi community, and the region afterwards became very insecure to inhabit. If she had known, she would have taken more of her possessions with her:

“I only have one photograph of me as a child. I was about 12 years old then. I was with my teacher. The photograph was for my passport and national ID. When we fled, we only thought to take some documents and the photograph was there. That’s why I still have it.”

Hayat Murad’s passport photo at 12 years old.

In the camp, Hayat continued her schooling, then studied for an English degree at Dohuk University, a half-hour bus ride away. At the same time, she took up painting. It became one way to make up for personal and communal losses:

“I didn’t really enjoy studying English. Where I stayed in the camp, I was surrounded by tents and all kinds of stress. I started to channel my grief and depression through drawing. It kept me busy. The first time I drew on a paper there, I liked the image. My mother was baking nan bread at the time. I showed it to her and she also liked it. After then I realised I could draw everything I could see. I told my mother that one day maybe I will be a famous artist.”

Hayat acquired material for her new passion from her university. It was here that she had her first art exhibition in 2019. Through the wreckage of desperate lives, Hayat began to focus on stories of resilience and strength. Art became one imaginative route out of unbearable conditions:

“There was a lot to cover. I wanted to keep busy because you are surrounded with sadness. I know many women who were captured and told me their stories. There are so many other dangers. Tents can catch fire. One time my cousin was burnt inside one. She suffers from depression to this day. Another time a storm came and blew all our tents away. We lost so many of our things. My years of growing up were also lost there.”

While documenting stories of dread and depression, Hayat began to realise some of her dreams as well as nightmares through art. Her inspirations were other women who, even though they had suffered terrible ordeals, remained resilient:

“I am personally in touch with many of the women and the horrible ordeals that they had to endure. But they still do not give up. I get my strength and inspiration from them. I can grow better and better hearing such positive stories of resilience and strength from others.”

'Echo of Freedom' by Hayat Murad.

Her oil painting,  “Echo of Freedom”, is a vivid depiction of trying to stand up against the patriarchal obstacles that she encounters everyday. It is an emotionally raw oil painting that captures the intense, unmuted scream of a woman reclaiming her voice against oppression.

For a 2024 commemoration on the genocide, a collection of her works were presented in an exhibition in a Shingali community centre. She also took the paintings and displayed them inside the rubble of a destroyed house. Called “Message from the Ezidi Genocide in Colours”, each unique painting tells a real-life story of men, women and children she met or had heard about from 2014 and afterwards.

“Shadows on the Mountain” depicts starving Ezidi people trapped on Mountain Shingal, several of whom died from dehydration. “The Mountain’s Promise” memorialises an Iraqi pilot who tried to deliver aid to Ezidi refugees trapped on the Shingal Mountain. He died as the plane took a nosedive into the mountain on his mission. Tomas was amongst the thousands of Ezidi children who went missing. He was found under the ground after a bomb attack on a Da’esh stronghold, having not eaten for days. His sister remains missing, however. “The Unthinkable Torment” depicts a real-life atrocity against an Ezidi woman where her child is killed and prepared as a meal for her to eat after she is starved in captivity. “The Silence of the Taken” captures the chained nightmare of Ezidi women bound and led into captivity beneath a Da’esh flag. By contrast, the lower half shifts to a deeply spiritual space where the women are revered like angels. This section also includes a young child who endured horrific torture in Da’esh captivity and now lives safely in Germany with her mother, indicating their enduring resilience even while many other family members are separated across countries. “The Longest Walk Alone: Grief Unmeasured” is a digital painting that captures the unimaginable weight of profound loss. A lone woman, viewed from behind, makes her way through a graveyard where every tombstone represents a loved one taken away from her: her son, daughter, husband, sister, brother, and more. Hayat elaborates: “The monochromatic palette and sparse landscape emphasises the isolating chill of grief, as the mother carries the invisible burden of an entire life now gone, walking forward despite the crushing emptiness of her surroundings.”

‘Message from the Ezidi Genocide in Colours’ by Hayat Murad.

Apart from Ezidi women, a paramour of power and resilience after being shot in the head on her way from school in northwest Pakistan is the Nobel Prize laureate and female education activist, Malala Yousafzai, who Hayat painted three times. During a UNHCR COVID awareness campaign in the IDP camp, one of the journalists posted her paintings to Malala who recirculated it on her social media.

Returning to their home in 2023, Hayat was relieved to see it still standing even though other buildings around them were reduced to rubble: “There were some signs of gunshots at the top. But my aunt’s house, which was nearby, was totally destroyed.” Inside her home was a different story, however:

“It was destroyed inside or things were broken. They left hardly anything. There was some furniture, but it was mostly damaged. We started from zero again. We were in a bad psychological condition. We were sad, destroyed, depressed.”

Art became a way out of her melancholia: “I paint when I can. Otherwise, to earn an income, I buy dresses and either rent or sell them for special occasions.”

‘Ezidi Hero' by Hayat Murad.

Despite the tensions and divisions she sees around her, she seeks to pierce through social shortsightedness and celebrate kindness and bravery that transcends divisions. Her painting, “Ezidi Hero”, is a striking oil painting that honours the profound selflessness of an Ezidi humanitarian worker who saves a Muslim girl from Da’esh, a reminder of how Islamic extremists also oppressed and brutalised their own community. The man steps over fierce flames and a dark fissure in the earth as he overcomes the cruelty of social divisions and takes care of the girl, carrying her to safety.

‘Universal Hue' by Hayat Murad.

On this note, “Universal Hue” depicts a portrait made by blending countless colors into a single face. Hayata explained: “It reminds us that despite our diverse nations and beliefs, we are all part of one shared human tapestry. The oil painting reflects the profound truth that our differences in faith, culture, and background are what can make life beautiful.”

‘Justice in Chains' by Hayat Murad.

The path to humanitarian caring and justice is a difficult and dishevelled one. Still, despite the obstacles, the will remains. By painting realities and possibilities, we can visualise and share their urgencies and complexities as Hayat shows so vividly in her oil painting, “Justice in Chains”. Art becomes an illuminator. Here a blindfolded woman holds the scales of justice while cradling a child. However, a large, shadowy hand hovers above her head as she is controlled like a puppet. Hayat elaborates: “The string binding her and the child symbolises how true justice and innocence are manipulated and enslaved by outside oppressive forces.” Rather than representing impartiality, the blindfold becomes a sign of blindness.

The time to take off such blindfolds is well overdue.

Raminder Kaur, August 2026