Andrea Bruce Woodall Photo Coverage of Iraq

IRAQ - AUGUST 17: Worn soft like fabric, faded ID cards wilt in the hands of elderly women and men who crowd an Iraqi policeman guarding a vault-like door. The uniformed officer commands them to back away from the entrance of the Rasheed Bank in Khanakeen. It is not yet their turn. Leaning on a cane, a grayed man exits the bank with unapologetic slowness while the policeman checks a list and calls Zakia Suleiman's number. She looks down at the young mustached man pictured on the ID card in her hand. Accredited in his youth, it belonged to her husband who has been dead for five years. It is now the key to his disability check, her only income. After entering the closet-like darkness inside, her abaya, draped over her head, is opened and searched by female hands. The room doesn't provide the relief she was looking for. The windows are closed, for safety reasons, and there is no air conditioning. The Rasheed Bank has a main office in Baghdad and is one of six state-owned bank companies in Iraq. Inside this Diyala branch, the bank provides the salaries, pensions and disability checks for everyone living in the province. Most receive their income once every two months, on their assigned day. Only women are searched. Last week a suicide bomber killed several people outside the town's Mayor's office. Female bombers are the latest trend. Inside, the walls are cracked. The floor is black and sticky. Unfolding plastic chairs are arranged in a circle rather than in a line, ready for comfort and socializing - they know the wait for their money will be long. Sweat gathers on Zakia's forehead like flies. Children spy her from the window, they are not allowed inside. After an hour, she is handed 3,000 Iraqi Dinars, about $230 US dollars, and leaves to buy tomatoes, cucumbers and fish. As she squeezes past the crowd outside, a woman, holding the ID of a young man, her dead son, takes Zakias place inside the door. (Photo by Andrea Bruce Woodall/The Washington Post via Getty Images)