Iranian Kurds long for home as they mark Nowruz in Iraq

Among them were Iranian Kurds Sirwa Mustafazada and Kwestan Aminpana, who fled their home country as a result of their activism in 2018.

After three weeks of war, they share the same yearning: "Next year we will be back."

"We have lived all this time with this hope," said Mustafazada, 32, who fled the city of Mahabad in western Iran.

Falling on the equinox in March, Nowruz -- the Persian New Year also celebrated by Kurdish communities in Iraq, Syria, Turkey and Iran -- is typically marked by weeks of anticipation ahead of joyful family feasts and celebrations.

But this year the war, launched by Israel and the US on Iran on February 28, has cast a pall over the ancient festivities.

Security concerns muted celebrations across the autonomous Kurdistan region in Iraq, but crowds still gathered and small bonfires were lit in regional capital Erbil, as well as Sulaimaniyah and Akreh city.

In Sulaimaniyah, the region's second city, the crowd momentarily started when fireworks erupted -- recently, similar blasts have signalled drone strikes.

Attacks attributed to Iran and its proxies have repeatedly targeted armed groups of the Iranian Kurdish opposition, organisations long exiled in Iraq.

"The regime is doing everything it can to save its own skin," said Mustafazada.

"But it has no outside support, and nobody wants it anymore inside."

Nowruz, long frowned upon by hardliners in Iran, is especially contentious this year.

It falls within the 40-day mourning period after the death of Iran's supreme leader Ali Khamenei, killed on the first day of the war.

Both women accuse the Iranian authorities of attempting to ban the celebration in the past.

But 33-year-old Aminpana said with a grin: "They'll push even harder, and we, in Kurdistan, will push back even more."

- 'Rebirth, resilience' -

"Nowruz is a symbol of rebirth, resilience, connection with nature, and joy," said Saad Qazi, a former Kurdish fighter, also from Mahabad.

"It's important to preserve our traditions and our identity, to be able to answer our children when they ask us, 'Who are we?'"

On a coffee table in his living room in Erbil, the traditional seven ingredients of "Haft-Sin" are laid out, the candle burning bright.

Qazi's wife, Parang Jahani, has carefully arranged each item -- all of which begin with "S" in Farsi -- in small bowls: wheat germ, sweet pudding, jujube berries, sumac, garlic, vinegar and apple.

They will remain there for the 13 days of the festival, a promise of strength, vitality, health, and beauty.

And, again, yearning: "Next year, maybe, we'll be back. In any case, we have more hope than last year."