Kurdish people like Mr Hamasalih would live in fear of such mass attacks, since recognised as an act of genocide, and ongoing persecution.

"Most people outside Kurdistan don't know these things happened," he said. "Under Saddam, we didn't have any rights as Kurds. We couldn't even say we were Kurds."

After the US-led invasion in 2003, Kurdistan was freed of the grip of Saddam's Iraq and became the semi-autonomous region of Iraqi Kurdistan.

Yet attacks on Kurdish soil still occur as sectarian violence and attacks by Turkish forces continue to claim lives.

"I remember some fighting, but there weren't any bomb blasts before the Iraq war. There was fighting and killing and shooting, but there weren't any bombs," Mr Hamasalih said.

"My friend was killed in one of the bomb blasts. I missed it by two minutes. I said goodbye to him and had just turned a corner when it went off. I went back and I saw my friend and many people struggling for their life or dead."

Mr Hamasalih, 23, came to Australia in late 2008. Life here can't compare to Iraq, but he has a burning desire to help others understand the mental toll war exacts on a person.

With the help of a grant from the Spectrum Migrant Resource Centre, Mr Hamasalih, who was a lighting technician and cameraman in his home city of Sulaymaniyah, will use film and sound to try to convey to people the horrific memories that refugees of conflict carry with them.

Beginning on Australia Day, the normally joyous sound of fireworks will take on the symbolism of war, the explosions triggering a young man's memories of bombs, automatic weapons and death.

"We have to live with these memories every day. Sometimes people don't believe what we've been through, that I've seen real fighting and real car bombs," Mr Hamasalih said. "I want people to understand my experiences and people with similar experiences."

Once this project is complete, he wants to tell more stories about Kurdish suffering, such as the gas attack on Halabja.