y friend looked at me incredulously: “Let me understand this correctly – your trip to Iraq in November 2021 was the reason you missed your son’s graduation in June 2022?” But it was true. As a UK passport holder, I do not need a visa to visit the US, but if you have travelled to certain designated countries – Iraq being one of those – you must undergo extra scrutiny. This involves an interview at a US embassy. Due to Covid-19, there was a significant backlog at all US embassies, and no appointment was available before November 2022. The graduation, however, was scheduled for June of the year.

So how did I end up in Iraq?

When I planned my trip to Iraq, this was a risk I had not foreseen. The word ‘planned’ might be misleading – it was more of a spontaneous decision.

I was sitting at Dubai Airport, preparing to board a flight for work and scanning the list of exotic destinations planes were departing to. One destination seemed to call out – Najaf. Without overthinking, I contacted Mustafa Naqvi, who organises tours to Iraq, and asked for his assistance in arranging a trip of less than three days. My main concern about Iraq was security, so having someone take responsibility for my journey was reassuring.

This would not be my first time in Iraq.

In the 1970s, my father, an aircraft engineer, was seconded by PIA to assist with the operations of Iraqi Airways. At the time, PIA’s expertise was highly sought after – not just in Iraq but also in the Emirates, Singapore and Malaysia. How the mighty have fallen since! In the ‘70s, I spent three years in Baghdad. I have hazy memories of my international school and visiting the holy sites in Karbala and Najaf. To this day, both my parents agree that they had the best time in Iraq and remember it fondly. I had always wanted to return, but security concerns prevented the plans from materialising. In late 2021, however, things were relatively quiet, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to visit.

Once Mustafa finalised my schedule – it was tight – I was ready to go. Flying from Dubai, I landed directly in Najaf, bypassing Baghdad. As my plane taxied towards the terminal, I noticed several Iraqi Airways planes with their distinctive logo, and memories of my childhood came flooding back. I recalled my father bringing home small toy planes adorned with the same emblem.

In Najaf, I was met by Alaa Al Khafaji at immigration. The counters were crowded with people, and there was no clear indication of where the queue began or ended. Not that it mattered to Alaa, who simply escorted me straight to the officer to clear my entry. The officer gave me a suspicious glance – a brown man with a British passport – but let me through.

Once outside, I was directed to my car, a 1980s’ Toyota station wagon that had clearly seen better days. Alaa drove skilfully through the chaotic traffic. Just outside the airport, large billboards caught my attention. They welcomed the Pope with the famous quote from Imam Ali (with whom Allah was pleased): “People are of two types: they are either your brothers in faith or your equals in humanity.“ I learned that earlier in the year, the Pope had visited Najaf to meet Ayatollah Sistani, the top cleric in Iraq with a vast following.

By the time I arrived at my hotel, Qasr al-Dur in Najaf, it was already dark. From my window, I could make out the silhouette of the Imam Ali Mosque. After a quick shower, I ventured out onto the bustling streets towards the mosque. Security was tight before approaching the mausoleum. Once inside, I was able to pay my respects and offer my prayers. The complex was meticulously maintained, with volunteers collecting and storing shoes for free.

Najaf is an ancient town. It was historically part of the Babylonian civilisation of Mesopotamia. It is said that many prophets are buried in the surrounding area.

At the time of the imam’s martyrdom in 660 AD, Islam was in the midst of a turbulent civil war. There was a significant risk that his grave might be desecrated. To safeguard it, he was secretly buried in Najaf, with the location known only to his family. Centuries later, the Abbasids discovered the site and built a proper mausoleum. Since then, Najaf has become a centre of learning, particularly for Shia Muslims. Its seminary is renowned for producing iconic scholars.

My hotel in Najaf was functional, clean and decorated in a kitschy 1970s style. Despite the late hour, the bazaar was bustling with activity. I had Iraqi kebab and bread at Kebab Sirvan, a basic street-side eatery serving freshly grilled food. The area was pedestrian-only, making it feel safe and relaxed. Most shops sold sweets and nuts, which devotees purchased to distribute to the needy. During my visit, one of the mausoleum’s minarets was under construction. The rest of the complex gleamed under bright lights, its golden façade radiating magnificence.

Holy sites in Iraq are managed by an army of volunteers who take care of cleaning and assisting pilgrims. The principal shrines in Iraq are beautifully designed and maintained in immaculate condition.

After paying my respects, I sat in one of the mosque’s beautifully adorned wings, lined with intricate glass tiles. The shimmering reflections created an almost ethereal atmosphere, while children ran around, infusing the space with a lively and joyous energy. After a few hours, I returned to the hotel, pausing to enjoy a cup of fragrant Iraqi tea from a nearby stall.

The next morning, after a buffet breakfast, I revisited the mausoleum and witnessed a solemn ceremony, reminiscent of a changing of the guard, seemingly commemorating a significant historical event.

From Najaf, Alaa drove me to Karbala, less than 50 miles away, along a well-maintained highway. Along the way, we passed the renowned Wadi Al Salam cemetery, reputed to be the world’s largest graveyard, covering over 1,500 acres. This ancient burial site, dating back to pre-Islamic times, is deeply revered. I was struck by the poignant sight of recent graves, most of which belonged to the young. These graves, often marked by images of the deceased, told the story of a generation lost to the unrelenting turmoil that has plagued the country over the past 30 years.

The journey to Karbala was short, but I made a few stops along the way.

The first stop was at Masjid Hannanah, one of the locations where Imam Hussain’s (with whom Allah was pleased) head is said to have been placed. The site was peaceful, with only a few visitors present.

The next stop was Masjid Al Sahlah, a historic site where many prophets and descendants of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) are believed to have prayed. The large complex was undergoing extensive renovations during my visit.

Along the route, I also visited the shrine of Kumayl ibn Ziyad and the mosque of Sa’sa’a bin Sohan, both esteemed companions of Imam Ali (with whom Allah was pleased).

Mosques and mausoleums in Iraq are characterised by their Persian-style decorations, featuring intricate blue tile work. Like Iran, images of Islamic figures, including Imam Ali and Imam Hussain (with whom Allah was pleased) are common displays in Iraq. In Pakistan or Saudi Arabia, such depictions would be considered unacceptable.

The highlight of the journey was the drive to the renowned Masjid Al Kufa. The city of Kufa holds a pivotal place in Islamic history. As the Muslim empire expanded and challenges arose from Syria, Imam Ali (with whom Allah was pleased) moved the capital from Madina to Kufa. Since then, Madina has retained its significance as a religious centre, but not as a political one. From Kufa, the caliphate’s capital shifted to Damascus, Baghdad, Cairo and finally Istanbul.

Masjid Al Kufa, one of Islam’s oldest mosques, has been a witness to centuries of history. Some of the most revered figures in Islam have walked through its corridors. It also houses the graves of family members and companions of Imam Ali (with whom Allah was pleased), who was fatally struck by an assassin’s sword while praying in this mosque.

Nearby stands a modest structure marking his house. It was humbling to see the simple quarters of a man who ruled over a vast empire stretching across Arabia, Egypt and the Levant. The contrast with today’s Muslim rulers is stark, to say the least.

Every corner of Iraq is steeped in history. My travels covered only the places associated with the family and descendants of the prophet, but Iraq’s rich heritage extends far beyond that. The Mesopotamian civilisation was home to the Sassanids and Babylonians, among others. The famed rivers – the Euphrates and Tigris, almost mythical in status – flow through Iraq, sustaining its ancient cities and lands. In later centuries, the Abbasid caliphate established its capital in Baghdad, transforming it into a centre of learning for generations. The city is home to some of the most renowned scholars during the peak of Islamic civilisation. Tragically, Baghdad later became the site of massacres and destruction under Genghis Khan. In modern times, dictatorships and wars have deprived the average traveller of the chance to visit and experience this historic land. I would have loved to visit Baghdad, but time didn’t allow. It remains firmly on my list.

As we drove along the highway from Najaf to Karbala, I noticed electric poles adorned with posters carrying pictures and asked Alaa about their significance. He explained that these were images of people who had died fighting the ISIS. When the ISIS attacked the revered shrine of Samarra, Ayatollah Sistani issued a fatwa in 2014 calling upon every adult in Iraq to join a jihad against the ISIS. This call united Iraqis across sectarian and political divides in a collective effort to repel the threat. They eventually succeeded, but at a tremendous cost – more than 10,000 Iraqis lost their lives in the fighting.

During the drive, I must have seen thousands of these posters. The images of young men, some barely out of their teens, and others with white hair, were a stark reminder of the heavy toll the war against terror has exacted on Iraq. It is a sacrifice that may never be fully understood elsewhere.

On both sides of the highway, I noticed empty, abandoned structures known as mokabs. These serve as resting places for the 20 million pilgrims who walk from Najaf to Karbala during the arbaeen period. At that time, these areas come alive with activity, offering fresh food, juices, sleeping arrangements and even free massage services for visitors.

Eventually, I arrived in Karbala and checked into the Baron Hotel – a surprisingly modern establishment owned by a Pakistani business group. The hotel operated a shuttle service to the main Karbala mausoleum every 15 minutes. After settling in, I took the shuttle to pay my respects at Imam Hussain’s (with whom Allah was pleased) shrine. Security was intense and the entire area surrounding the shrine was restricted to pedestrians.

Holy sites in Iraq are managed by an army of volunteers who take care of cleaning and assisting pilgrims. The principal shrines in Iraq are beautifully designed and maintained in immaculate condition. Gold-plated Persian domes and intricate tile work adorn the exteriors. The interiors feature stunning glass ceilings and lush Iranian carpets for worshippers to sit and pray on. Men and women were segregated, with volunteers efficiently managing the flow of visitors without coercion. They carried small sticks with feathers at the end, gently tapping to get your attention if needed.

The city has a distinctive atmosphere, filled with various sites connected to the tragedy of Karbala. Though I didn’t have time to visit all of those, I was able to see the shrines of Imam Hussain (with whom Allah was pleased) and Hazrat Abbas, as well as the camping area of the family. I was told there is much more to explore.

What struck me most was the overwhelming number of women, outnumbering men, actively participating in the rituals. Equally heartening was the presence of contingents from Pakistan, representing various sects, a testament to unity in diversity.

During my time in Karbala, I explored its many sites, picked up some souvenirs, and enjoyed more Iraqi kebabs, which were incredibly tender with a distinct, delicate flavour.

A few things stood out to me during my brief visit to Iraq. Despite its vast oil wealth, the country struggles with visible poverty and cleanliness issues. Rubbish is scattered everywhere except around the meticulously maintained mausoleums. It was surprising to witness such conditions in a nation with some of the largest oil reserves in the world. Clearly, Iraq’s wealth has not reached its people.

Hope for Iraq’s future lies with its youth. More than 70 percent of the population is under the age of 35. The younger generation is friendly, eager to engage with foreigners and exudes an energy that feels promising. I was particularly struck by the prevalence of funky hairstyles among young men – a small but telling symbol of individuality and modernity. Their vitality gave me hope for a brighter future.

From Karbala, Alaa drove me back to Najaf Airport, where I boarded my flight to Dubai.

Though my trip was short, its impact lingered for nearly 12 months, restricting my international travel. Yet, I would not trade the experience for anything.

The writer is a finance professional based in Dubai. He tweets @travelutionary1