The chaff of humanity blown by the winds of war into the face of the world.
This is what refugees run from.
The calm, deliberate, cool proficiency of the military machine. There is no humanity in it, no compassion coursing through its hydraulic veins. They are hybrid death engines pitted, carelessly committed, to what will inevitably be a mutual apocalypse.
In between the politics of xenophobia and megalomania, the brave have no voice.
Kainoa Little’s photographs tell the story of a war zone. He was in Mosul, Iraq during April 2017. No mainstream media wanted to buy his photographs so he published them himself.
© Rod McRiven 2017
Photographs: Kainoa Little