A visit to a museum in Iraq reminded me of the value of the work we do as journalists

In popular fiction, the hunt for ancient treasures is largely a white man’s pursuit – a white man in khaki, to be precise

Earlier this month I spent some time walking around Iraq’s National Museum in Baghdad. Even those who have never stepped foot in the building will be familiar with the items within it. It’s a special place, made more so by the fact that everything there is entirely homegrown.

The giant winged bulls that tower over the Assyrian room were dug up less than 300 miles away, in Khorsabad, where they once stood at the Palace of Sargon II. The many clay tablets, which demonstrate the first writing system developed by humans, come from Uruk, 175 miles south of Baghdad.

These treasures tell the story of humankind, and are of interest to us all. But they are also a source of national pride for Iraq. For much of the country’s history, its people had little say over where these artefacts went, and who owned them. The legacy of colonialism and decades of looting means that many of them are still out of the reach of ordinary Iraqis.