I go Iraq—not to prove anything, but because Babylon still dey there

Baghdad (Baghdad). Tigris River (Tigris River). Six o'clock for morning. One fisherman dey stand for front of wooden boat, di way wey e dey throw net with right hand na di same thing wey Assyrian people carve for stone two thousand years before. Di side of river, Mutannabi Street (Mutannabi Street) dey wake up — book sellers dey take old yellow books from waterproof cloth, put dem for open market. Di tea shop for opposite side don start to smoke with charcoal for first time dis morning. From speaker for river side, Arabic morning news dey play — Iraq parliament go debate some law today, di way di newscaster dey talk fast, e be like say e dey rush before Ramadan fasting begin. Only di fighter wey dey far and di pigeon wey dey fly for head remind you say dis no be old Mesopotamia morning, but na Iraq for 2026.

I no come here because of heroism. No be because I want 'challenge' one country wey Western media call dangerous. But because when I search 'Iraq World Cup 2026' one time, di screen show me no be only travel warning, but also one picture of Babylon ruins — blue brick lion wey get 2,500 years, dem fence am with wire for dusty yard, almost nobody dey inside. Di tin wey come my mind be: if Babylon still dey there, why nobody dey go?

Iraq dey for Middle East, dem call am Mesopotamia for old time — 'land between two rivers'. Tigris River (Tigris River) and Euphrates River (Euphrates River) meet for here, give birth to first human civilization: cuneiform writing, Code of Hammurabi, Hanging Gardens. Since 2003, war and wahala don change di name of dis country from 'cradle of civilization' to 'conflict zone'. But Lion of Mesopotamia — Iraq national team — go represent dis country for World Cup stage for 2026. For many people wey never search Iraq before, football na di first reason to open dis door.

Mutannabi Street (Mutannabi Street) every Friday get di best book market for Baghdad (Baghdad). Di books dey like time wey don scatter: yellow old poetry book dey side cheap English textbook, Saddam (Saddam) time political pamphlet dey side Arabic Harry Potter wey don pass many hand. One bookshop owner—wey wear reading glasses, im finger don turn grey from ink and dust for many years—tell me for English: “For Saddam time, di bookshops for dis street dem burn am. When American people come, dem burn am again. But book no die, river no change.” Im point to Tigris River (Tigris River) outside: “Dis river old pass all our government put together. E don see Babylon (Babylon) king, Abbasid Caliphate (Abbasid Caliphate) poet, British people tank—now e dey watch us.”

Babylon Ruins (Babylon Ruins) dey about 85 kilometers south of Baghdad (Baghdad), two hours drive. But dis two hours go pass at least four military checkpoint and one sky wey American drone don dey fly plenty before. When we reach, only two car dey for parking—one na di guide im own, di other na Iraq Antiquities Authority worker im own. Di guide name na Hassan (Hassan), na local person from Babylon province. As e dey open di big iron gate for di ruins, e dey do am like e dey open im backyard gate: “Now no be tourist season—Babylon never be tourist season.” E point to Ishtar Gate (Ishtar Gate)—dragon and bull for di blue tile still dey complete—and talk: “When Nebuchadnezzar II (Nebuchadnezzar II) build dis gate, Babylon na di biggest city for earth. Now—now e no even get bus route.” Im voice no get pity, only statement.

For more north, Erbil (Erbil) na di capital of Iraq Kurdistan Autonomous Region, di pace and security different well well. Di Citadel (Citadel)—one of di oldest city settlement for world, wey never abandon for six thousand years—dey rise from city center, like big sand-color cake. One Kurdish university student carry me go im favorite suya spot, as e dey chop fast fast, e dey tell story about Aymen Hussein (Aymen Hussein) (Iraq striker wey grow for Hawija (Hawija)) im goal story. “E score one header against Oman,” e talk, “Dat day I watch live for Erbil tea shop. Everybody for di tea shop jump up—Kurdish, Arab, Turkmen—dat day only one identity.” E use suya stick draw football field shape for table, write two word for middle: Iraq.

Di southern Mesopotamian Marshes (Mesopotamian Marshes)—di place wey dem talk say na Garden of Eden—na di last place I see for Iraq, and di most unreal. Di floating reed house (Mudhif) dey shake small for water surface, water buffalo only show one nose and two curved horn. One boatman stand for im canoe, use simple English talk: “Saddam once think say e go dry all dis wetland—punish di Marsh Arabs (Marsh Arabs) wey dey here. Water dry for ten years. Then American people come, water come back. Now—water dry and rise, rise and dry. Wetland still be wetland.” E paddle once, and white bird scatter for front. No need any comment, di fact alone get enough weight.

For my last night for Baghdad (Baghdad), I go back to Mutannabi Street tea shop. Same place, same Arabic coffee. For next table, one young boy dey use Arabic translate news about Iraq World Cup qualifier from im phone to im friends. Sometimes word like “Mbappé (Mbappé)” and “Messi (Messi)” dey come out—football na global language wey everybody understand. As I dey write dis last page note, call to prayer begin outside di tea shop. Tigris River (Tigris River) for night time, I no fit see anything, only hear water sound. I want put everything for one sentence, but Hassan (Hassan)—di Babylon guide—don already write am for me when I dey leave: “You know, less than one hundred years after Nebuchadnezzar II (Nebuchadnezzar II) die, Babylon empty. But today travel guide for Iraq only get ‘Do not go.’ Dis city luck no too good—history give am too high title, reality give am too low rating.” I pay for di coffee. Sign di guestbook—though nobody go check am.