Boxes full of toasters, washing machines and freezers are stacked high in front of Hashim Nur al-Moussawi's electrical equipment emporium on the edge of the Shorja market in central Baghdad.
But enter his shop and it is virtually empty, a bullet hole through his plexi-glass office window the only clue to what has befallen this once-successful Iraqi entrepreneur.
"They looted my store and kidnapped my son," the 62-year old laments. "I had to close my shop for months and pay a heavy ransom. Now the security situation is better, but I'm struggling to repay my loans. I'm in financial crisis."
Moussawi is one of hundreds of residents in this bustling district enjoying the benefits of improved security but he complains that the cuts in violence have not ushered in a promised economic revival or better government services.
Violent attacks in his neighbourhood, which until a year ago was the scene of fierce sectarian fighting that killed hundreds, have fallen significantly over the 12 months.
U.S. troops rumble through daily in their Humvee military vehicles and walk the streets on foot. Green-camouflage-clad neighbourhood security units, U.S.-backed "Sons of Iraq", man the main squares and thoroughfares to keep order.
Last year's increase in U.S. troop levels had the goal of making streets like those surrounding the Shorja market safer, and in that it has clearly delivered.
But the "surge" also aimed to create what U.S. officials have called "breathing space" -- a security dividend that would create jobs and growth "magnets" and allow the Iraqi government to provide essential services to all areas and communities.
The experiences of Moussawi and other residents of this neighbourhood show the struggle to achieve these goals -- vital to making life tolerable for Iraqis -- will be a long one.
Sabar Leftah, the owner of a rug dealership just down the street, is happy the area has become safer. But he says recent clashes in Sadr City, a sprawling Shi'ite slum several miles (km) to the east, have made customers nervous again.
"The year started out better, but business has taken a turn for the worse again. Students are afraid to come, the curfews have hurt, more people are staying away," Leftah says.
BRIGHT GREEN SEWAGE
In nearby Fadhil, an old, predominantly Sunni Arab neighbourhood, residents are thankful al Qaeda insurgents no longer roam the narrow maze-like streets.
