Today is International Women's Day, an observance that began in the early 1900s with the suffrage movement in the United States. American feminists now work in partnership with women across the globe to "inspire women and celebrate their achievements," according to the holiday's official Web site.

There were Women's Day events even here in Baghdad, where female folkloric dancers performed at the Alwiya Club, a once-upscale country club in the heart of the capital. A local TV channel carried the event live, airing interviews in which women described what it means to be a mother, wife or daughter in a war zone.

Iraq's minister for women's affairs also spoke on TV, calling for the full constitutional and Islamic rights for Iraqi women, as well as for an end to workplace discrimination in the fields of security and education. The power vacuum caused by Saddam Hussein's removal has ushered in a new crop of ultraconservative religious leaders -- clerics from both sects -- who have done their best to roll back the rights of women in matters of divorce, inheritance, even the ability to travel without the permission of a male relative.

This morning I got an email from Oxfam, the international charitable organization, that described the plight of Iraqi women and asked readers to remember them on this day. You can read the whole Oxfam tribute here; below are some excerpts from the group's interviews with Iraqi women struggling against wartime obstacles to protect their families. Fittingly, the project is called, "Extraordinary Lives."

The Oxfam introduction asks: What are you doing today? What would you be doing if you lost your home... your family... your income? This is the daily reality facing a huge number of women living in today's Iraq.

Around 82 per cent of the 2.4 million people displaced inside Iraq are women, or young children under the age of 12. The following stories, collected by women’s organisations in Iraq, give a rare insight into how Iraqi women are trying to help their families to survive and to retain their dignity in times of extreme suffering.

There's Shukriya, 50, who sells soda-pop cans to make ends meet. With her own hands, she built a makeshift roof of gypsum and palm leaves to protect her earthen home from the elements. She has six children.

There's Huda, who lives with two other Iraqi widows and their total of seven children. The roof of the home has a gaping hole created by a stray mortar round; raw sewage flows right outside the dwelling. Huda bakes bread at home and trades her fresh products for flour. Huda lost her husband and two sons to the war.

There's Basima, a grandmother in her 60s who cares for her orphaned grandchildren in a mud-brick house just outside of Baghdad. Sometimes, she borrows a neighbor's donkey to cart water to the home, but most days she lugs the heavy canisters herself. She also bakes the daily bread, collects wood for fire and does her own repairs to the house. Here's what Basima told a visiting researcher:

"Sometimes, I wish God would take my soul but my grandchildren, who would take care of them if I were not here? I am a woman taking sole responsibility of my two grandchildren. I have counted the days for which I have lived like this – I've been here for two years, five months and four days."

The Oxfam site has a feature that allows visitors to email messages of support and solidarity to the Iraqi women.

(The photo of Huda is courtesy of Oxfam's Web site)