
Diyar Harki- Member of Dakok for Rights and Freedom
It has now been over two years and two months since the Kurdistan Region of Iraq (KRI) stopped exporting oil through its official pipeline, following disputes with the federal government in Baghdad. Yet despite this halt, oil continues to flow not to the public, but into private hands. An estimated 300,000 barrels of oil are still produced every day in Kurdistan, but the revenues are neither declared, nor shared, nor seen in the lives of ordinary citizens.
Instead of transparency, what the public receives is a mix of vague statements, delayed salaries, and crumbling infrastructure. The Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) now claims it is $9.25 billion in debt to oil companies a staggering figure that raises more questions than answers. If oil is still being sold, where is the money? If the region is rich in resources, why are its people living in economic paralysis?
Not a single cent from these undisclosed oil revenues has been used to rebuild the region or support essential services. There have been no significant infrastructure projects, no economic recovery plan, and no tangible improvements in public welfare. Meanwhile, thousands of public servants, teachers, and healthcare workers continue to wait months for partial salary payments while the cost of living rises and hope declines.
And yet, when election season comes around, the same authorities seem to find just enough funds to buy loyalty. In the last elections, vote-buying was not only visible it was normalized. While the average citizen struggles to afford groceries, the political elite spent generously to ensure they stayed in power. The people’s poverty has become a political currency.
This is not governance it is systematic mismanagement, bordering on exploitation. A ruling class that benefits from illegal oil sales, while offering no accountability, is not serving the nation it is profiting off its collapse.
What is even more troubling is the culture of fear that surrounds this conversation. In today’s Kurdistan, asking “Where is the oil money?” is treated like a criminal act. Journalists, activists, and ordinary citizens are often intimidated, silenced, or accused of treason for daring to demand transparency.
The people of Kurdistan deserve better. They deserve governance, not control; service, not slogans; dignity, not deception. Until there is real transparency, democratic accountability, and a break from this cycle of shadow economics and staged loyalty, the future of Kurdistan will remain hostage to a system that prioritizes private power over public good. If asking these questions is dangerous, then perhaps danger is the only path left to dignity.