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Read the full text of the article below:<\/p>\n
Kolbari, a practice most common in the provinces of Kurdistan, Kermanshah, and West Azerbaijan, is a phenomenon tightly intertwined with structural poverty, underdevelopment, and centralized governance policies. The state, through continuous underdevelopment of non-Shia and non-Persian regions, has exacerbated this issue\u2014particularly in the Kurdish border areas. Years of neglect, historical insecurity, and a securitized view of these regions have made sustainable investment virtually impossible. The absence of factories and manufacturing workshops, the weakness of tourism, and stagnation in agriculture have deprived locals of formal employment opportunities and driven up unemployment rates. In the absence of supportive and developmental policies, the informal economy and high-risk activities like kolbari have become the only means of survival and livelihood for thousands of border-dwelling families.<\/p>\n
Unofficial estimates place the number of kolbars between 80,000 and 170,000. While there are no official disaggregated statistics on the exact number of women kolbars, some sources estimate it to be several thousand. Many of these women are heads of households or have husbands who are unable to provide due to illness or addiction. For these women, kolbari is the last bastion of financial independence and a means of covering their families\u2019 most basic needs.<\/p>\n
\u201cBahiyeh,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0a 53-year-old woman who has been working as a kolbar for ten years, told\u00a0Peace Mark Monthly Magazine<\/em>: \u201cGolzar,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a048 years old, a widow who raised her six children alone, said: \u201cChiman,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a045, whose husband cannot work due to severe spinal disc herniation, said: Compared to men, women kolbars are in significantly more vulnerable positions. They not only face the same physical dangers but also endure layers of cultural discrimination and pressure. In traditional and patriarchal views prevalent in some local communities, a woman\u2019s presence in the harsh, male-dominated world of kolbari is considered inappropriate. Women who take on this work often face disdainful or pitying glances. This judgmental perspective exposes women kolbars to social isolation and intense psychological stress.<\/p>\n \u201cGolchin,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0a widow and kolbar for twelve years, shared: \u201cGolzar\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0also said: According to gender roles defined by society, managing the household and caring for children are primarily the woman\u2019s responsibility. For women kolbars, this means starting a \u201csecond shift\u201d after hours of grueling physical labor in the mountains. Unlike men, who can rest after returning from kolbari, these women are expected to immediately take up cooking, cleaning, and caregiving duties without pause. This double burden intensifies their physical and mental exhaustion, leaving no room for rest or self-care.<\/p>\n \u201cRoshana,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a022, who has been doing kolbari with her husband for a year and a half, said: \u201cMaliheh,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a039, who\u2019s been doing kolbari with her husband for two years, said: Treacherous mountain routes expose all kolbars to deadly risks\u2014falling, avalanches, hypothermia, wild animals, and landmines leftover from past wars are constant threats. Violent encounters with border patrols and the risk of being shot must also be added to this list.<\/p>\n \u201cGolzar\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0added: \u201cBahiyeh\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0said: \u201cShahin,\u201d<\/strong>\u00a031, who has been a kolbar for a year, said: \u201cChiman\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0recalled: The psychological toll is also crushing. Constant fear of death, worry about their children, feelings of humiliation and helplessness, and verbal and physical abuse severely threaten their mental health.<\/p>\n \u201cGolchin\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0said: Carrying heavy loads on rugged terrain over time causes irreparable damage to women\u2019s spines, joints, and overall health.<\/p>\n \u201cGolzar\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0said: Kolbari doesn\u2019t just wear down women\u2019s bodies\u2014it also distorts their self-image and sense of femininity. In the struggle for survival, attention to health and feminine care becomes a luxury, and the body is reduced to a tool for labor and endurance.<\/p>\n \u201cRoshana\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0said: Some women do kolbari alongside their husbands, brothers, or children. This is a smart survival tactic in the perilous conditions of border crossings. According to kolbars\u2019 experiences, having a woman in the group may reduce the likelihood of violence, as border guards are generally more lenient toward women and rarely open fire on them.<\/p>\n \u201cRoshana\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0added: \u201cMaliheh\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0said: Although kolbari has become a widespread feature of border economies, there is no legal framework or institutional support for kolbars. Their work is considered informal, and they are excluded from insurance, social support, or legal rights. In cases of accidents, injury, or death, no institution takes responsibility for supporting kolbars or their families. More tragically, in many cases where kolbars have been killed by border patrol fire, their families have been forced to pay for the very bullets that killed their loved ones.<\/p>\n \u201cShahin\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0told\u00a0Peace Mark Monthly Magazine<\/em>: Kolbari, for women kolbars, is a battlefield on multiple fronts. These women are not only battling harsh nature and crushing poverty, but also cultural systems that refuse to accept their presence in this field\u2014while simultaneously shouldering rigid gender-based responsibilities at home. What gets forgotten in all this is their physical health, human dignity, and femininity\u2014concepts that, in the daily fight for survival, become luxuries. Survival tactics, like accompanying men to avoid being shot, are bitter proof that a woman kolbar\u2019s gender is simultaneously her vulnerability and her shield. The story of women kolbars is not merely a tragic tale of poverty\u2014it is an indictment of a system that has offloaded the consequences of its failures in development and social justice onto its most vulnerable citizens.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Written by Pardis Parsa
\u201cThis is just how the world is. Some people have it easy. Others like us live hard lives and have to do kolbari to survive. My eldest son has a master\u2019s degree and is unemployed. He doesn\u2019t even have a penny in his pocket. His wife is educated too, but she\u2019s also jobless. My other two sons are the same\u2014one\u2019s a computer engineer, the other\u2019s got a master\u2019s in accounting. None of them have proper jobs. What can I do? I\u2019ve tried other things like making \u2018giveh\u2019 (traditional footwear), sewing, and knitting with yarn. But those don\u2019t bring in money like kolbari. Without kolbari, we wouldn\u2019t survive.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cNowadays, everyone\u2019s doing kolbari to make a living. Life has gotten so expensive. Everything\u2019s pricey. You have to go do kolbari two or three times just to buy a sack of rice. I\u2019ve been doing this work for eleven years now.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cRight now, I\u2019m the head of the household. I\u2019ve got three school-aged kids. We\u2019re renting a place in Paveh, and I do kolbari in Dezavar. My daughter got divorced and came back home with a little child, and my husband has back issues. Now we\u2019re seven people in the house. Kolbari is my main job. If I don\u2019t do it, where would we get money to eat?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nGender Dimensions and Discrimination<\/h3>\n
\u201cSo many rumors have spread about us. They\u2019d say we go to Iraq and do God-knows-what, or that we go with strange drivers. A thousand stories have been made up about us. I\u2019ve heard them all. In the beginning, it really upset me. But now I don\u2019t care anymore, because I know I haven\u2019t done anything wrong. I just went, sold my goods at the Toyleh market (a village on the Iraq border), bought some items there, and brought them back to Iran to sell. I did it to raise my two kids and not have to beg anyone.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what the difference is between men and women doing kolbari? Men do their job and no one talks behind their backs, but with women, it\u2019s different\u2014especially if you\u2019re a widow. There\u2019s a lot of judgment about female kolbars. They say we go to Iraq and who knows what we do there. Of course, now that we\u2019re older and have been doing this for a long time, people know us and what kind of people we are. But for young women just starting out, this issue still exists.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nThe Double Burden of Gender Roles<\/h3>\n
\u201cHouse chores, cooking\u2014it\u2019s all on me. After we came back from kolbari, my husband would take a shower and lie down, but I had to go straight to the kitchen to make tea or cook. He never helped me. One time, I was really exhausted and his mom was with us. When we got back, I told myself I\u2019d rest an hour before making food. But my mother-in-law criticized me so much and said I wasn\u2019t fulfilling my duties, that I ended up dragging myself to the kitchen to cook while still worn out.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cI do the housework, childcare, cooking, and even work in our garden. When I push myself too hard during kolbari, I can\u2019t handle the rest. My eldest son helps me a lot, but most of the chores are on me. When I bring back heavy loads from Iraq and then come home to more work, I\u2019m really exhausted. I can\u2019t focus on anything\u2014not my kids, not the house, not even the garden.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nNo Physical Safety, No Peace of Mind<\/h3>\n
\u201cSometimes the path we take has landmines. God has spared us so far. One time I tried to pass through Maleh Hendu but wasn\u2019t allowed. So, I thought I\u2019d go down from Kalle Ghani. I was about to step on a mine\u2014only a hand\u2019s width away. God helped me at that moment. I thought it was some metal trash. But when I looked closely, I realized it was a mine. If it had exploded, who knows what would\u2019ve happened to me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cWhile returning with loads on our backs, suddenly patrols would show up. We had to hide behind rocks until they left. Sometimes we waited for three hours just to get back. By the time we got home, it\u2019d be night. Sometimes we\u2019d arrive at 2 or 3 a.m., in snowstorms even. They\u2019ve seized or thrown away our goods too.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cThe loads we carry are really heavy. Sometimes mine has weighed 30 or 35 kilograms. The path is so rough and steep\u2014it\u2019s easy to twist your ankle or fall.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother used to carry kerosene in small bottles to sell in Toyleh. Sometimes it\u2019d spill on her back and burn her skin. Her back would peel like old plastic. Carrying fuel comes with those kinds of miseries.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cWhen I first started kolbari, my son was in first grade and my daughter was in fifth. I\u2019d lock the door and leave them home alone. I worried the whole time\u2014what if they get electrocuted or burn themselves? They were just little kids, but I had no choice.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\nWorn-Out Bodies and Forgotten Femininity<\/h3>\n
\u201cKolbari is hard for women. When women get older, they suffer from all kinds of pain and illnesses. I have arthritis and a herniated disc. Every night, I take painkillers just to lessen the pain in my shoulders and legs and sleep, so I can get up and go kolbari the next day.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cWomen are better suited for administrative or official jobs. Otherwise, this kind of life wrecks everything. At my age, no other girl is doing kolbari. Among kolbars, I\u2019m the youngest. Girls my age live in comfort, and I\u2019m stuck in this life. The sun in the mountains ruins my skin, my body suffers, and my spirit gets crushed. When I\u2019m out kolbari, I feel really ugly because I can\u2019t always put on sunscreen, and the mountain sun really burns your skin.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAccompanying Men: A Survival Strategy on the Border<\/h3>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been doing kolbari for about a year and a half, but very limited. I mostly go with my husband so he\u2019s not alone and doesn\u2019t get stopped by border patrol. We pretend to be checking on our garden and then sneak toward Iraq through it. My husband doesn\u2019t let me carry heavy loads. He\u2019s told me not to come many times, but I don\u2019t want him going alone. I\u2019d rather we face any danger together. If, God forbid, border patrol shoots, at least we\u2019re together. Border guards don\u2019t usually bother women. They rarely shoot at us. That\u2019s why I go with him\u2014to reduce the risk to his life. It gives me peace of mind.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\u201cMy uncle was killed by a border patrol shooting. His four small children were orphaned. I\u2019m afraid to let my husband go alone. I go with him. If a woman\u2019s with the men, the danger is less.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nAbsence of Institutional and Legal Support<\/h3>\n
\u201cKolbari has no insurance, no future\u2014nothing. It\u2019s a limbo job. It\u2019s not something you can do forever. The fear that one day you\u2019ll fall ill or become disabled and can\u2019t earn is always there. You have no peace of mind. If, God forbid, you get shot or step on a mine, no one will come and say, \u2018Here\u2019s a little money to cover your treatment or your life.\u2019 The owner of the goods will just find another kolbar the next day. Even the families of kolbars who are killed or injured have to pay for the bullet that hit them. That means a family barely surviving, who\u2019s just lost someone, now has to pay the government too.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
Originally published<\/strong> <\/a>in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on October 23, 2025.<\/em><\/p>\n