A Family in Baghdad

Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
Good evening…
Baghdad is charged with an atmosphere of tension and anxiety...
Confrontations against Al-Mahdi Army, led by the coalition forces and the interim Iraqi Government, with the new Iraqi Army and Police force joining in the Military Operations, which is something to add up to the anger and displeasure of the people, presenting more ambiguity, and card mix-up.
Electricity improved suddenly, and in a suspicious way, Why? Then we discovered that they are cutting it off Al-Thawra city, and the places where Al-Mahdi Army is present and doing battle with the occupation forces, residents appeared on satellite T.V. screens crying for help, saying they are without water and electricity… My neighbor said: What are these disgraceful acts? Aren't they very much like Saddam Hussein and his acts against the Iraqis. Is this democracy?
I answered scornfully: be quiet, or the American people would hear you and get angry, then they would say- look at those ungrateful Iraqis, they do not deserve our help??
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I took the day off today, and went in the morning to the Professional's Union Conference, with my Doctor friend, whom I was acquainted with during the Business women Society. She is an active, educated member; I like her personality, and respect her experience. The Conference was held in Al-Elwiya Club Hall, and on our way we passed the most dangerous area, the Conference Palace, where you can see a fortress of fortifications, the American Army, and the new Iraqi Army Volunteering Centers, where we always hear about trapped cars exploding beside them. Then we got to the famous Al-Ferdouse Square, were the statue of Saddam Hussein was toppled, and a small monument was put in its place, made by a group of young Iraqi artists calling themselves (The Survivors)… I laughed when I saw the monument, remembering the name, as if there were some survivors from a plane disaster, or an earthquake, but we are really in this situation…and every day there are some new survivors from uncountable disasters, rocking our lives.
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We entered the Hall, there weren't many people present. The subject of the gathering was a dialogue, and an attempt to contribute in the Democratic Process in Iraq. A National Conference will be held soon, and the Unions think they were given a small percentage of representation in it, and this gathering is an attempt to raise voices to the coordinating authority of that Conference. Our gathering will be attended by the State Minster of Civilian Organizations. Every Union chairman talked about his Union, its history, and the importance of its role in society, the Doctor's Union, the Dentist's Union, the Pharmaceutics' Union, the Engineer's Union, the Agricultural Engineers, the Geological Engineers, Teachers, writers, and the Assisting Paramedics Unions…
They demanded to be given seats by new percentages in the on coming Conference, in accordance with the volume of these Unions in society.
The Teachers Union represents (500,000) members, the Engineer's Union (120,000), the Doctor's Union (27,000), the Dentist's (7,000), , the Agricultural Engineers (36,000)…. The Teachers Union was established in 1935, , the Engineer's Union in 1938.
Then the Minister spoke, said he had listened to the view points, and will take them in consideration , that he is willing in his Ministry to receive any comments or complaints from any Organization working in Iraq. Then he gathered up his papers and left the Hall.
A delegation of two people came, and the conference chairman announced that they were a delegation sent from the coordinating authority of the National Conference, to speak about its organization, and answer our questions.
One of the delegation members spoke, said that the Conference has chosen about 1000-1200 Iraqi people, and those will elect a temporary National Council of 100 people, 20 seats of them belonging to members of the former Governing Council, which means only 80 people will be elected. Next Saturday is the date for the conference…voices rose in the Hall, and objections, when everyone was surprised by this news…, discussions were opened, and members of different unions spoke about not making known the date of the Conference to the public, nor was it clearly announced in newspapers or on T.V., that it resembles a dish cooked in the kitchen without the knowledge of the people… and this is a non-possible shame in the time of democracy.
They distributed a news journal in the name of the Conference, bearing a broad, red inked headline: The United Nation's Delegate says that this Conference will be the first step on the road to democracy in Iraq.
I took the journal, then raised my hand, asking permission to join in the discussion, the man responsible for organizing the session signaled his agreement, so I came forward, the journal folded in my hand, announced my name and career, then started talking about the journal's headline. I said: If this headline was true, where is the Democracy? We heard today about the Conference and its date, and that is two or three days ahead, so, what is the point in our gathering today? What shall be the outcome of our discussion? If every thing was pre-arranged and prepared, then what are we doing now? The Iraqis lived long years in the dark, now has come the time for them to practice Democracy, and this practice needs the people to be educated, for long months and years, the Conference should be talked about, the Iraqi's right to participate in it should be made clear, because the Iraqi does not know his rights. That process of explaining and clarifying should have taken place in meetings, in all areas, organizations, and unions, and the security conditions should not have been taken as an excuse to run away from this responsibility, this transparency… This is the first step??? Such a full-of-mistakes -first-step, the Iraqis will spend coming years trying to correct the mistakes that are happening now. Then I repeat my question, what are we doing here today??
I laughed bitterly, said: Peace be upon you-( Assalam Alaikum), and went back to my seat…the people applauded, my friend said: you were talking enthusiastically, angrily. I said: well, I'm sorry, but the situation does not bear diplomacy and coolness.
I thought to my self, perhaps one day we will arrange educational courses by the title: How to speak coolly, while you are at the top of anger…
An old-aged lawyer spoke after me, said he lived in Al-Harthiya district, and while he was in the mosque a few days ago, a group of people came, carrying 50 nomination papers, and told us to elect 20 out of 50… the population of the district counts some (30,000) people, and the papers were only seen by a small number of people…I have lived some years of my life, (he told), in America and England, but have never seen such a democracy. Are these the correct practices to build a new, democratic Iraq??
We all applauded him, and cheered him….
The delegation on the dais were writing down our comments, with faces turning red in fury… then answered back our criticism…they said the security condition is the cause, that some mistakes and transgressions did take place, for lack of experience by the conference committee…
We found their answers silly, illogical, and unconvincing…
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When we got out of the Hall, a journalist run after us, took down our names and work addresses, said he would like to interview us, to hear our view points as active union members, and Iraqi women, and asked permission to photograph us.
We refused, my friend said, we do not want trouble…I said, maybe they would be angry, and send someone to hurt us… we laughed, and went home…
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At home, they asked me: What did you do in the meeting?
I said: to light a candle is better than cursing darkness. We burned the Hall down, then left…that is better than sitting at home and not participating, accusing the other sides of performing incorrect practices. You go and see, by your own eyes, and make sure, then yell in their faces, and then leave the hall…
Well, I think this is a positive contribution, so they would know that people are not fools, and wouldn't be laughed upon….
But this seems to be the utmost ambition for the democracy model here…
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Thursday, August, 12th, 2004
Good evening…
I like Thursday, I call it (the day of Charity and good deeds). I spent the day in a good mood; a lot of customers came to the shop, lots of talk, and scientific discussions. Some customers stare in my face, curiously, stupidly, and I smile, not able to reprimand them, because I think I know the reason, perhaps this man, in his mind, wonders : This woman has a strong personality, she argues confidently, and has answers to the questions about her job. I feel him astonished, and amazed…but I try to get over it. I became used to this situation, and it bothers me sometimes, because I am a woman.
My poor friend came, and I gave her some money, as in every Thursday, and told her to buy some fruits and vegetables for her family, and say hello to your mother. She thanked me, and chanted all the good prayers, like wishing me good health, safety, and deliverance from mishaps, and as usual, I laughed, as I do when I hear her weekly serenade, and said with her: Amen.
I got out of the shop, and went shopping; I bought a big melon, vegetables, and fresh, green Parsley. The young errand boy delivered the stuff to the car; he was about 15 years old, I gave him a tip, and he said, smiling shyly: can I ask you something, and you wouldn't be cross with me? I laughed and said, go ahead, I'm listening…
He said: Would you buy me a new T-Shirt?
I laughed and said: what good will one T-Shirt do you? I'll collect some T-Shirts and trousers from my sons for you, those that are too small in sizes for them, but still new…
His smile widened, said: O.K., thank you.
I was filled by happiness as I went home; thinking that giving love to others is a cure to sad hearts. This morning I have sent an envelope with some money in it to a relative's daughter, who just graduated from collage, with an apology that I couldn't visit her, because of the harsh daily conditions. The girl called me before I left my work, she was very happy, thanked me, and begged me to visit them; I promised to visit them the next week.
I remembered all that on my way home, and told my self that if were to die while happy and clear-minded as I was now, I think it would be a good idea… then I smiled, and continued driving towards home…
Baghdad is still in tension, there was news of massing in Najaf, an attempt to break-in to the city by the American forces, and they were trying to use the Iraqi Army as a shield to enter the holy city, speaking through loud-speakers, asking the residents to leave the city… distressing and frustrating news, as if the story of Falluja is repeating it self all over again, but in another city in Iraq.
All the way I was listening to the Holy Quran, the Verses of Yousif. I love this verse very much, feeling sad about how much sorrow he encountered in his life, and feeling happy when we get to the end of his story, how much good GOD has granted him, for his patience and true belief….
I finally got home, every day I used to call by Mobile beforehand, so they would open the garage gate for me before I arrive, but today I told myself I wouldn't bother them, perhaps they were a sleep. I stopped my car, then got out to open the steel garage gate, the engine of my car was still running, I didn't turn it off…I was in state of total calm, the Quran still intonating the Verses of Yousif…. When I opened the second part of the gate, a red car drove near, then stopped beside my car, I looked coolly to them, thinking them visitors to the neighbors, but I noticed that they got out quickly, facing me, carrying rifles and guns aimed at me. I stuck to the wall, saying to myself: Here they come to assassinate me, perhaps because of the criticisms in yesterday's gathering…
Every thing froze in that moment…I saw my self dead, for sure.
The street was empty, the wooden door of our house was closed, the buzz of the generator was filling the space with noise, and no body knew what was going on here…
Two of them moved towards me, signaling me to keep quiet, then one of them got into the car, while the other kept pointing his gun at me, I then realized that they came to despoil the car…I moved a step forwards, then another, backwards. I was confused…but I begged in a clear voice, so they would hear me: Take the car, but please give me my hand bag, for in it are my identity cards….
They didn't listen to my pleadings, but shut the car door. My heart trembled, as if a piece of it was cut with a sharp knife…I cried and yelled, shivering: Oh, GOD…my car…..please, do not make it a blessing upon them. I hoped for a miracle to happen, to stop them, but they went by, quickly, and my heart tore up…I run towards the wooden door, knocked in a crazy way, and Khalid got out, I told him, shivering and crying: Come with me, an armed gang took my car…
I run to the street, and stopped the first passing car, told him: Please help me, they took my car…I want to follow them or notify the Police…
Khalid was shouting: Mama, calm down. But I never heard nor responded.
We got to the nearest Iraqi Army Post, and notified them about the theft, he said he was sorry, but that was not among his duties, go to the next street where there is a Police Station, and they will help you.
We went to a Station with Police cars gathering in front of it, and they directed us into a court filled with the same cars, perhaps twenty cars or more, where they receive instructions for their Patrol posts… they took us to the officer in charge, who was very cooperative and understanding. He started talking on his wireless set, sending rapid signals to all checking points in Baghdad and around, giving them the descriptions of the car, the model, and license number…
He said: Get inside, wash your face and drink some water…
I felt dryness in my mouth, my heart was beating very fast, with the whole of my body trembling… I went inside a room, perhaps the guards sleeping room in the station. There were some scattered, humble beds. I sat down with Khalid, and someone got me a glass of cold water, I drank some and washed my face, as if I was awakening from my daze… I stood up, leaned my head to the wall, and burst into crying….. A man was praying in the room…he finished his prayers and prayed goodness to me, Khalid was trying to calm me. The other man said: Do not cry, here…these are my car keys, use it and return it whenever you wish…
I thanked him, and kept crying…. raving to myself: The criminal thieves came and robbed me, the true believer?? If I were a wicked thief, then I deserve this, but I have spent my day in good deeds…so why would this happen to me???
I felt I shall die of sorrow, feeling defeated in front of a dirty enemy you can not confront… I felt that even the Police were helpless, so the possibility of getting it back is very slim….
Azzam came, and we went to the other Police Station to enlist the incident legally, then I signed the papers, and went back home…
It was around 3 p.m.,… I was exhausted…I changed my clothes, but didn't wash my face. I laid on the bed, and hid myself under the covers…I cried, and cried…I kept imagining the scene time after time, as they were getting out of the car with their guns, as I saw death in front of me, as I was filled with panic, then as they closed the door of the car and it went away…
I remembered my hand bag, my Mobile phone, my English Language notebook, and some books I borrowed from friends to read… in my bag were the keys of the house, the shop, and the Amman apartment, a small calculator, a small electronic dictionary, my reading glasses, my telephone book, and my I.D. cards: my Civil Identity card, the Engineers Union card, the Driving License, the Career Women Society card, some personal cards bearing my name and profession, a small purse with Iraqi currency and a few dollars from the shop… various pens, and cassette records, mostly the Holy Quran. I imagined the criminals opening my bag and flipping my papers and personals…I was further maddened, and cried more…
Khalid sat beside me, consoling me: Mama, this is the will of GOD, a test so you would show your patience; even the Prophets were hurt, felt pain, and showed patience…
I kept crying, wailing, and raving….then I would be calm, recite some verses from the Quran, be silent, stare at space, and then my tears would resume spilling… I am not sad about the car and the things that were inside, but the incident was so sudden, and frightening…
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I didn't have lunch, or dinner…my stomach felt empty, hurting me, but I had no appetite to eat anything.
I couldn't sleep, not with the images repeating them selves in my mind…and each time I call Khalid to read some Quranic verses over my head, hoping to feel some calm…Khalid kept talking to me, consoling me, he would get out of the room, then get back again to check on me…
I remained in a state of sadness and amazement all night; until I fell a sleep…I can't remember when…but I told Azzam that the house keys were connected to the car keys in one key ring, so we should change the outside locks of the steel doors. He promised to do that in the morning…
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Friday, August 13th, 2004
I woke up around 8 A.M.; to find Azzam putting a traveling suitcase on the floor…he smiled and said: Good morning. I asked: What is this?
He answered: Have you forgotten? Didn't I tell you I made a plane reservation to travel? When? I asked coolly.
Today, he said, 12 at noon…didn't I tell you before?
I shook my head in denial… I was feeling crushed, with no wish to have any speech or dialogue…
He said he wouldn't be long…there were some new Water Purifying systems we are going to import from America, they were big, and there was a problem in their shipping, so he has to discuss that problem with the company agents in Amman…also he will reach an agreement on the matters of payment … and … and…he kept talking…but I could no longer listen…I felt he belonged to a world that had no connection with mine…
I stared at the ceiling… I had severe pain, and felt suffocated, but had no ability to cry…my lids were swollen, my nose congested, and I couldn't fully breath…my head had housed a terrible headache… and this man made me feel a big let-down, some forbidding, and a sense of loneliness. Again he asked me about his clothes, I felt he was asking for assistance to get his suitcase packed…but I was like a stone, frozen, without reactions…
He called the driver to take him to the Airport… then drew near me, looking down at my face, to see whether I was awake or a sleep… I looked coldly at him, as if I were dead. He moved to the other room, his cologne spread around, I heard him stop by the door and say: By…Boys, in a happy, joyous spirit. Then I heard the wooden door slam loudly, and all went quiet in the house.
I looked at the ceiling, inhaling deeply…No, I am not mad at him, men were like that…and that was their way of dealing with life…
I needed someone to hold my hand in my time of crises…but he is busy, apparently, by more important things.
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Many relatives, neighbors, and friends called, but I refused to talk to anyone. I didn't want to hear any thing…my mood was tired; I wanted to be by my self…
I had some breakfast, milk and corn flakes, I couldn't eat anything…I felt my stomach was sad and crumbled also.
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I sent the driver, our neighbor, to buy new locks for the house. The day went by with the boys…I cooked Lasagna for them… an Italian dish they liked… I spent a joyous time with them…I kept praying to GOD to save them, so no harm would touch them…they were the source of my happiness in this mortal world…
Today is Friday, the day of worship. I prayed, listened to the Holy Quran.
In the afternoon, I sent Majid to our relative's house with a gift for their daughter, for I was invited to her engagement party, but apologized because of my circumstances. Majid came back wailing he is hungry, he helped to distribute the food for the other guests, and forgot to eat…Khalid also is moaning of hunger…I'll go prepare dinner for them…
Giving love to others is a cure to sad hearts… here I remember those words again…
I do not know if I could go to work tomorrow?? We have a meeting at the Career Women Society in the evening, and after tomorrow perhaps I have an English Language lesson at the Institute. I had no wish to see anyone, nor do any activity…I need to remain alone…to feel the quiet and serenity with myself…
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It is now 11 p.m., I came back from the kitchen, I didn't join in dinner, I had no appetite. I'll just go to sleep…
I feel I am more calm…I am no longer sad, or wish to cry…I accepted what happened with a calm, resigned mentality…
What was the will of GOD has occurred…Thank GOD…
I tell myself if my things got back to me, well, Thank GOD…and if it didn't come back to me, then, again, Thank GOD. HE does what HE wants; we are merely the weak, ignorant slaves. The most important thing is that my Faith should not be shaken, in GOD, His justice and mercy.
Faith helps us to endure the burdens of life. How cruel would life be without it, and how ugly?
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Saturday, August, 14th, 2004
The situation is still very tense in Najaf…the news are still quite hot.
One of the reasons for my incident is that the streets are almost devoid of Police cars these days, for most of them went to the tension areas, where there are clashes with Al-Mahdi Army…and that presented the golden opportunity for thieves and gangs.
I am seriously thinking of leaving this house, and moving to a district closer to my work, and safer… the thieves now had information about my name, career, and work address, perhaps the next step would be to kidnap me or one of my sons.
I will pack my cases to go to Amman as soon as Azzam gets home to Baghdad, and if I decide to come back, I will not live in this house, and nearby is an area full of gangs and thieves, since the days of Saddam Hussein. Now the conditions are worst, and no one can control them…so moving away from the area is the safest solution…
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What is the meaning of life without security? How could a person work, give and create, while living in a constant state of panic? In the Institute, I sit in class, listening to the teacher, and thinking warily: will a shell fall down now, break the windows, smash the walls, kill and wound us?
The Institute is near the building of Ayad Allawi's Party, which is always targeted. And in the Women Society meeting I remain afraid of the possibility that some crazy person would break into the building, and kill us, thinking we are collaborating with the Americans… and on the street, I fear the criminals who rob cars, or kidnap women and children for ransom.
In this incident I see a sign from the MIGHTY GOD…to leave this house, this city, this life…I don't know….but something should change in my life……….
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To live in a place where there is no state, no law, no protection… GOD the MIGHTY is the only safety factor, for those who believe, and depend on him…
I have been living my days wagering upon this fact only. Not on a government, nor an army, nor police, they were all in a jam, and each one wants to protect himself some how… even the occupation force…is only thinking of protecting itself, and how to cut down the daily losses.
What is the worth of the citizen here??? An Iraqi???
Huh….some worthless nonentity…whether he lives or dies, who cares??
The government and parties arrange protection for itself and its important members, they are in a battle field, and are equipped with all possibilities…
But how would the normal, miserable person live, that who owns no means nor powers??
(…GO ALONE WITH YOUR GOD…)- (a Quranic Verse), as if this is the slogan of life here…and you alone shall be responsible for your decision to remain or leave.
My thoughts are confused, and I do not want to rush my self in taking a decision…but I need some rest, and afterwards my mind would clear up….
Time is always the helping factor for clarity of vision…and I need more time.
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I opened up the Internet to read my e-mails…I found some 70 new letters…some were reports about Bush, Kerry, and the elections battle, and how it moves on…
I smiled and shook my head…each is living in his far away world, away from the other…diving into different details…
What brought them here?
Can they believe that they have ruined our lives, present, and future for uncountable years to come? Is there still among them a dreamer who thinks he loves the Iraqis, and he is here to help them??
We have an old saying here, one which we use in time of disasters bound with love… (and there is the love that kills……)
Perhaps this is the kind of love that dwells between us and the Americans…
I am sorry…but I think there is some misunderstanding in this Nobel Love….
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Translated by May \ Baghdad.