Hogir Hirori on the heroic work of Yazidis to save women from ISIS

Stockholm-based Hogir Hirori who grew up in Kurdish Northern Iraq, drew world attention with his previous films The Girl Who Saved my Life (Göteborg Swedish Church Angelos Award 2016) and The Deminer (IDFA Special Jury Award 2017), which provided riveting and incisive portraits of courageous Kurdish people, in particular the Yazidis of Northern Iraq.

One of the oldest ethnic and religious minorities, the Yazidis have been persecuted by Daesh (ISIS), ever since they attacked their ancestral homeland in the Sinjar province. The film focuses on the remarkable work of Mahmud, Ziyad and volunteers from the non-profit organisation, the Yazidi Home Centre, who risk their lives to save ‘Sabaya’ - Yazidi girls and women, abducted and used as sex slaves by ISIS fighters.

Armed with his camera, Hirori follows the heroic Mahmud and Ziyad and their team, in their regular missions to save the Sabaya at the infamous Al-Hol Syrian camp, thanks notably to tip-offs from women infiltrators.

The film was produced by Hirori’s own company Lolav Media with Antonio Russo Merenda of Ginestra Film, in co-production with SVT, in association with Yle, VGTV, support from Nordisk Film & TV Fond, the Swedish Film Institute and Film Stockholm/Filmbasen. Dogwoof handles world sales.

How did you come up with the idea for the film? Are you personally connected to the Yazidis?
Hogir Hirori: My wife, Lorin who is a journalist, had the idea for the film. We had started developing the process together, but then we couldn’t continue working on it. I'm not Yazidi, but have had Yazidi friends and neighbours where I grew up [Duhok, Kurdish Northern Iraq]. I have made several films about the inconceivable things they have gone through.

How did you get to know the Yazidi Home Centre, how did you gain the trust of the two main protagonists Mahmud and Ziyad, and how long did you stay with them?
HH: I had seen videos, photos about the centre, contacted them and presented them my idea for the film. At the beginning, they were totally against it. They were afraid I would be a burden, an obstacle in their rescue missions. Then I explained in detail my intent, that I only wanted to bring attention to the fate of the Sabaya. They eventually accepted.

I travelled six times over there, staying two to six-weeks at a time. During the first three weeks in Syria, I was very careful with the filming, partly because it was a new country for me, partly to get to know these people in a better way. As I stayed 24h with them, we became friends pretty quickly. They took great care of me and I felt in good hands.

Considering the dangerous rescue missions at Al-Hol camp, in what way did the Syrian Democratic Forces (cited in the film credit) help you during the filming?
HH: They helped me with filming permits and my security when I was in the camp, which was quite often. Without their help, it would have been impossible to film in the camp.

How did you film within the camp premises that still houses around 73,000 Daesh supporters, guarded by Kurdish forces?
HH: At the beginning it was very difficult, and my big camera attracted a lot of attention. Then I started using several different cameras, depending on what and when I would film in the camp.

Mahmud and Ziyad's everyday lives were full of adventures, and they were aware of all the risks they took. Anything could happen any time. The camp is huge, and there were all kinds of people from all over the world. All women dress the same, so sometimes men could hide behind these clothes. I felt that the security around the camp was quite good, but not in the camp among Daesh families.

The scenes at the prison that houses 15,000 Daesh fighters is chilling. How was your experience of entering it and opening doors to cells with thousands of jihadists?
HH: For me, it was important to film the prison with Daesh prisoners to see the faces of those who attacked the Yazidis in 2014, and those who exploited all these girls and women and turned them into sex slaves. I tried to shut down my personal feelings and focused on following Mahmud in prison as he tried to find those who had had Yazidis as their Sabaya.

The film is split between the rescue operations, and life at Mahmud’s house, with his family, who takes care and soothes the poor Sabaya. This offers a stark contrast. Was it difficult to approach the Sabaya and get them to open up?
HH: I was very careful when filming these girls and women; they had already been through a lot and I did not want to be a nuisance. One of the most delicate moments was when they would change from their black niqabs to normal clothes and show their faces. I would give them time, and always told when I was going to film, and didn’t film if they didn’t want to be filmed.

Some were Ok to be filmed, but refused to speak. I tried to capture pieces of conversations. That was enough to represent what so many had endured. Most saw their families killed in front of their eyes, they were kidnapped, sold, raped, beaten, kept as sex slaves. This is their reality.

What was beautiful was to see the transformation of the Sabaya at Mahmud's house, from shadows of themselves - to almost strong women. How much time would these women spend at Mahmud’s house to recover?
HH: Mahmud's family was used to dealing with these girls, especially Mahmud's mother and wife. They made the girls feel at home and be themselves. The girls stayed there for anywhere from 10 days up to six months until it was time to go home to Sinjar in northern Iraq.

The fate of the Sabaya is quite astounding. What are international organisations doing to help them? Does the Yazidi Home Centre receive support from foreign organisations, or expat Yazidis?
HH: There are many organisations that help these girls and women after they’ve been rescued, and through these organisations, many of them come abroad for help, such as Germany, Canada and Australia. As far as I know, the Syrian Yazidi Home Centre does not receive help from any organisation. I was shocked myself to see this.

Did Covid-19 have an impact on the shooting or delivery of the film?
HH: Because of Covid, we had to cancel our last planned filming, but at the same time it allowed me to spend more time in the editing room, and work on the 92-95 hours of filmed material and tell what is now in the movie.

What’s next for you?
HH: Hard to say right now, but I have some ideas, including the making of an animated documentary. The most important thing now is that I am with my family and there for them, my wife and my two wonderful children.