Young men show us around the crushed neighborhood in the eastern part of the city. Airstrikes, they say, have killed more than 800 people here, an area of roughly a square kilometer.

The people we meet here tell us no one has visited their area in the aftermath of the disaster, when the New Mosul neighborhood was briefly made famous after hundreds of people were killed in U.S.-led coalition airstrikes in May.

Young men in Mosul show us where their friends and relatives were killed in May airstrikes on their neighborhood. (H.Murdock/VOA) Sept. 30, 2017.

Governors, ministers and other officials visited en masse back then, they say, but little has changed. Bombed out houses still lay wasted, the missing and presumed dead are still missing and there is still no running water or electricity.

I ask if they are getting any government or foreign aid. Walid, 27, laughs out loud. “They won’t even help by giving us a toothpick,” he says.

This area was one of the most heavily bombed in the nine-month war that ousted IS from Mosul. The United States confirms that airstrikes in New Mosul killed 105 people in one week.

Walid, a truck driver before the war, lost his brother and his brother's pregnant wife in a wave of strikes in their neighborhood. They were having breakfast at his friend Abdullah's house when Walid decided to step outside to repair a broken door. Three blasts hit the block, and the buildings crumbled.

Walid only survived because he had stepped outside. Neighbors helped Abdullah and others crawl out of the rubble. Many of the people crowded into the building next door had been forced to move to New Mosul by IS militants as they retreated weeks before. None of the 140 people inside survived.

Elsewhere on the block, Abdullah says, "one man was alive, bleeding and trapped under the rubble for five days before he was rescued by Iraqi Special Forces. It was a disaster."