Inside the mansions where Iraqi elite lived and played

By ANDREW BUNCOMBE in Ouija

The family of Saddam Hussein clearly left in a hurry.

Throughout the opulent homes owned by the dictator and his relatives in the small village of Ouija, the signs of a hasty departure are everywhere.

Half-packed suitcases stand in the middle of rooms, hastily gathered personal items have been swept from offices, and at one house an electric lawnmower is outside with the cable plugged in and the grass still uncut.

But there is not a soul to be seen.

Ouija was always special to Saddam. He was born here, in 1937, in a small house of mud and clay overlooking the gently curving Tigris River. Once he rose to power, he had it knocked down and replaced with a mansion.

He also built luxurious homes for the scores of extended family members and favoured officials - bringing them together in what had once been a dusty little village.

Such was their seclusion and privacy that locals could be killed for even walking along the nearby main road.

"I have never been here before in my life," says Nihad Ali, a student from nearby Tikrit, who acts as the Independent's translator and is the only local in the village. "It was always private. You could be killed if you even tried.

"I would talk about this place with my friends, but we could never come here."

The first house of note on the way into Ouija belongs to Saddam's cousin, Ali Hassan Al-Majid, a former Army driver nicknamed Chemical Ali for his role in gassing up to 200,000 Kurds in the 1980s.

Majid had good taste when it came to kitchens. His is large and airy, with stone tiles on the floor and solid wood fittings.

A nasty smell is coming from the freezer, which has been without power for more than a week, but the only chemical to be found is something in a yellow bottle that looks like detergent.

Upstairs are a number of bedrooms, including one that appeared to belong to a teenage girl. On the wall are posters of George Michael, Brad Pitt and Gray Barlow, the slightly portly singer of Take That fame.

Next on the block is the home of Saddam's half-brother, Barzani al-Tikriti, a senior local governor. US officials, possibly from the CIA, have already been inside and left with a truckload of papers and personal effects.

But there is plenty left to see: clothes and Havana cigars strewn everywhere, more photographs and an upstairs room with a huge supply of disposable nappies.

A delicately scented rose garden overlooks the river.

The house at the very end of the road belongs to the top man. Much of it has been destroyed by bombing, but one can wander through the blackened debris, picking over the personal possessions of the ousted dictator.

Despite his professed love of Stalin, there are no books on or by the Russian leader, though there is a collectionof stories - in Arabic - by Russian Bolshevik writer Maxim Gorky.

Also untouched by the bombing are several of Saddam's LP records. One is the soundtrack from the musical Oliver! and another Tchaikovsky's Symphony No 3 in E major.

The biggest surprise is a separate building that contains Saddam's indoor swimming pool and jogging machine.

As with the rest of the houses in Ouija, the water is still running at Saddam's home and the pool is full. It looks a little oily, but on a hot, dusty morning it is a temptation too great to resist. There is even a diving board with a pleasing spring to it.

Splashing about in the cool water, it is hard not to wonder what went through the minds of the privileged few who lived here in the dying days of their rule. They clearly realised they had to get out - and fast.

- INDEPENDENT

Herald Feature: Iraq war