Martin Chulov
The Observer
Children across Iraq are renowned for ageing ahead of their years; but in Basra childhood has been little more than fleeting for three generations.

Near the end of an occupation that was supposed to help - in part - to change that, the young custodians of Basra's future are speaking positively about the years ahead.

Children were largely left alone by the rampant militias that ran Basra throughout much of the past six years, though their family lives and education were badly affected. Now, with relative stability having been ushered into their world, the city's children feel much more at liberty than other groups in Basra society - especially women - to talk about their lives and dreams.

New playgrounds and safer streets that stemmed from the military sweep that cleared the city 13 months ago have been well received by boys in particular, who are revelling in street football. Basra's girls, meanwhile, are taking to the extra school time.

Of the estimated 1.5 million people in Basra, almost half are thought to be children. If that estimate is borne out by a national census due this year, it would mean the city has the youngest mean age of any Iraqi province.

Meaningful social indicators are hard to come by here, in a city that has barely functioned for decades. However, piecemeal figures on health and education show these two sectors, which are likely to most affect children, have been more neglected than the rest of the service sector throughout the years of violence.

In 2006, local health specialists claimed the contraction of water-borne diseases among children had increased by 30% since the start of the war. Infant mortality was also sharply up.

The numbers of orphans in and around the city had long been inordinately high, due largely to the Iran-Iraq war, which ravaged the city's men for almost a decade until 1988. The front line of that campaign was a short distance northeast of the city and barely moved throughout.

More than 600,000 Iraqis were killed - many of them from Basra. The Gulf War of 1991 took another sharp toll, as did the vengeance wreaked by the president, Saddam Hussein, on the city in the years immediately afterwards. Today, children are everywhere in Basra. Standing idly in ramshackle doorways wearing tattered clothes, they had become the city's forsaken people, symbols of hunger and deprivation, seemingly with little hope of ever rising above their circumstances.

Orphanages are in demand but also well catered for. Sabeha Ahmed, a 12-year-old who has been at an orphanage for three years, felt positive about life in Basra. "I can sing, play and study," she said. "My life is developing well and so is Basra. Everywhere I go outside I see new buildings, different colours, new parks, green grass and restaurants. I want this to be a future for all Iraq."

But trickle of new aid projects and reconstruction plans has yet to reach the city's poorest neighbourhoods. These areas typically house families with the highest numbers of children. In the short term, having more mouths to feed is a burden for low-income families, but it is an insurance policy over time as children reach an age when they can be put to work.

Taha Yassen is only 12 but has already given up school and works collecting cans for recycling. "My father cannot work. He is paralysed from the war," he said. "I have to work to provide money for my family. We are very poor. I collect empty Pepsi cans then sell them for 250 Iraqi dinars [15p] each kilo.

"I start work at 6am and finish around 7-8pm. When I can't work, we starve.

"I met the British many times. They were kind and sometimes they gave me chocolate, sometimes money."

The recent increase in safety has brought with it a health downside among football-mad boys, who are shaping pitches anywhere they can find space on the rubbish-strewn landscape. Neighbourhood games are now regularly being played alongside swamps of sewage and toxic waste that have been left untended throughout the reign of the militias and for decades before.

The local council is issuing public warnings about exposure to such sites, but any future toll, like so much else about Basra's children, is a legacy that is yet to be written.

These children's stories almost invariably start with poverty and fear at the start of the occupation. But their outlooks now are - on balance - more positive than their elders'.

Fadil Hassan, 15, council worker
"Forty-five days ago I got a job in the council and I am very happy. Thank God, my life will now change. I get $200 each month and this is a good foundation for building my life. Everything is going to develop here.

"When the society strengthens, trade will come, so will investments and agriculture.

"The British helped us. Before they came, we were sinking in sewage and drowning in darkness and disease. Now I feel 70 times more safe and free - and I am dreaming to have a family and build a house."

Khwater Sadeq, 13, an orphan at the Al-Zahara Organisation for Orphans
"I have lived here since my father died seven years ago. I have seven sisters and when the war came things were terrible for us. But now I am studying computers in school and I feel safe listening to music and my favourite religious songs. I can also enjoy festivals and other celebrations. I want to be a computer expert.

"We have passed the worst times, I hope. I met the British many times. They gave us boxes with pencils, toys, sweets and books and they built a cafe here. They also brought medicines and gave health check-ups. We loved their visits."

Ali Najem, 15, student at al-Kefah secondary school
"Things are not 100% better now. There is more stability, but bad things still happen. We can celebrate and feel more free than before. But I am still scared. I want to help make this city the best on the Gulf.

"When Iraq won the Asian Football Cup, we celebrated with tambourines and songs. But militia members arrested me and shaved my head. They banned anyone enjoying the moment.

"There had been more than a decade of neglect and there is so much work to be done here. We need libraries, we need sports clubs and music schools.

"My family life has improved, though. After 2003 my father worked in the car market and he has done well. There have been no restrictions like during Saddam's time. The British troops always respected us. And they helped us build a sports stadium. But it is a long way from town and we need more.

"My ambition is to be a lieutenant [in the army]. I like my country and I am loyal to it. And I want to defeat enemies in the future."

Mahdi Abdullah, 15, building worker
"Six months ago I found a job in building. I get paid $130 (£89) each month. I left my education early, because I had to. My family has no money.

"My dream is for the stability here to continue and for poor people to find jobs and live their lives with dignity. I am not asking for fortune or treasure. All I want are simple dignities. I feel comfortable now because I have a job. I want to get married and provide for myself and a family.

"Basra floats on oil. It has always had a way of keeping the poor people above water. If it falls into honest hands, we can lift Basra further and move to a new stage of our lives here."

Noor Manai, 15, student at al-Farahedi secondary school
"We fled our home in al-Sha'ab in Baghdad three years ago because of the violence. My father thought it would be safer in Basra. It was initially, but then things were destroyed by the militia. It is now starting to turn around again.

"After the operation that cleared the militias [in March 2008], my parents let me go to school unaccompanied. This was how it used to be.

"But in 2006 I could not go to school for one year. It was really hard and I thought I would never be able to complete my studies. But my father promised me it would change. And it did. I am very happy.

"Now I can go shopping and visit my friends, but we still don't have sports clubs, cinemas and theatres. I want to be a computer scientist and help my father. He is an engineer and he is wealthy now."

Ammar Musa, 12, street vendor of chewing gum and tissues
"I have worked at this intersection since 2003 and now things are much better. My income is higher and I can work safely without explosions. I can stay here from early in the morning until midnight, through winter and summer. I can buy clothes and food.

"I live with my mother and father and four sisters and my father is now getting daily work. Before 2007 he was hardly working.

"If the security stays this way, peace will follow for us all. Then maybe I can get a better job."

Mohammed Manal, nine, primary school student
"My life has improved a lot lately. My mother lets me play football, tennis and other sports with my friends, even though the stadium is a long way away. We play in the streets for two hours every afternoon and I can do what I want most times.

"The big problem in our lives, though, is the electricity - especially at night. We need it to study and to watch sport on TV. There has been a small improvement, but we need 24 hours, not the six to ten we are getting now. I want to be an engineer one day to fix the electricity.

"Before 2007 my mother made me a prisoner because of the security in Basra. She wouldn't even let me go to school and I could never play outside. She says many children were kidnapped in Basra. But now we both feel better.

"Last summer we went to Syria for a holiday. On Fridays we go to the park, or the river. My school is not good, though. It is old and tired and we need new equipment and teaching methods."

Sabeha Ahmed, 12, al-Zahara Organisation for Orphans
"I came here three years ago after my father died. I live a normal life. I love my teachers, they are very kind to me and they are good with lessons. I am in the al-Zahara primary school and they arrange many festivals, with theatre performances and art displays. I want to be a musician one day.

"There have also been British people coming here to help us with our problems and they have given desks and books to our school. I don't feel like I've lived a strange life, or that I have missed a family environment. Today the teachers took us to a new park."

Awas Fouad, 15, student at al-Kefah secondary school
"Before 2003, things were tragic here. We lived on the front line of three wars and suffered more than any of the other Iraqi provinces. We lived in poverty. There were problems with health and education and we could not afford to go to school. My father had a job at Basra University and his salary was $10 each month.

"I have three brothers and two sisters. My mother left us because of our situation. But after 2003 my family's life transformed. My father became an assistant for the dean of Basra University and his salary was raised to $2,000. I went back to school and so did my brothers and sisters.

"The British brought life to Basra. I can now play basketball, which I love doing, and we can get an internet connection. We can also think about travelling.

"Things improved again after 2008. I can now have picnics and stay out late until 10pm or 11pm. I want to be a doctor to take care of future generations of Basra children. They deserve the best."

Hamed Jassim, 11, scrap metal collector
"I work with other children to earn money for our families. My father died in 2005 from sickness. My younger brother Ali, who is nine, also works with me. We start each day at 5am, because if we get up early there is more metal to collect. We can barely afford to eat.

"We are living in a destroyed UN building. It doesn't have walls, but we are still in a better situation than before 2007. I get $1-$2 each day and my life is starting to improve. My family's income is better than it was and if I work harder I earn more. I want to work for the council in the future, or to be a soldier.

"Peace is the greatest treasure in my life. It means we can rebuild things and sometimes play with friends."

• Additional reporting: Enas Ibrahim