Saturday, September 18, 2004

 
Thursday, September 16, 2004

Good evening….
The weather has improved a lot in Baghdad, and in the morning, some nice, cool breezes come through the windows overlooking the garden. I will go to buy some new rose saplings for the coming season, by the will of GOD.
We await winter impatiently…we shall wear heavy clothes, and watch rain pour upon us… How I love rain and miss it… I feel it washes the streets, the trees, and the buildings, and I wish it could wash darkness and hate from people's hearts…. So that peace would prevail on earth…Amen.
********************************
I put the Article by Ghaith on the web site yesterday, it speaks about the events of last Sunday…
It was a day tarnished with blood…. The blood of the miserable Iraqis.
The events took place in Haifa street, which is a street lined by high-rise residential buildings, in modern designs. I have put photos of this street many times in our web site. Behind that street lies a poor, old district, the remains of the old Baghdad quarters.
Whenever I visited my brother, who lives in a high-rise building there, I always felt these buildings were like a strange body that entered the city… it had no connection whatsoever with the surrounding environment. And to make the view worst, are those old, decaying houses cast off behind the buildings… as if they were some two worlds not connected to each other, strangers…side by side…somehow. They remained estranged since the 1980s, till now…. Strangers by residential, social, and economic standards.
**********************************
On Sunday, the area was filled with fighting, violence, and blood…this was not the first time, but perhaps the most violent…
Blood…blood…blood… all over the curbstones, the street, the shops, the residential buildings, then the camera lenses of News Agencies.
Al-Arabiya Channel correspondent was killed, Ghaith and other photographers were wounded. Tens of Iraqi civilians were killed and wounded.
American Helicopter planes were hovering, and bombing…the bodies were piling, and nobody could advance to save the wounded…
And in a press conference attended by angry journalists in Baghdad, the American official apologized for the killing and wounding of reporters and civilians, saying that they ( the occupation forces) are making all efforts to reduce casualties and damages.
Oh, yes, we all believe that, noticing how serious he is….. Huh?
Isn't it the same play reoccurring in Fallujah, Sammarra, Najaf, Kufa, and Al-Sadder city??? War planes bomb, houses demolished, and dead civilians…
And the man apologizes…..
Oh, GOD…
*****************************
The driver told me yesterday that before he came to take me to work, he took his sister to Al-Nu'mman Hospital in Adamiyah because she was ill. The Emergency ward was filled by Iraqi Police corpses, dead and wounded… some criminals drove to Antar Square in Adamiyah in the early morning, got out of their cars, and shot the Iraqi Police Patrol with automatic weapons, filling the street with bloody bodies, then ran away….
One day before that, there were attacks on police patrols in Baghdad and other cities, there was a large number of victims… and today, while we were at the shop, we heard the blow of a nearby explosion, which turned out later to be an attack against a police patrol by the Rowad Restaurant in Mansour… a crowded shopping area.
And then I read in the newspaper today that Bush promises to make Iraq an example in fighting terrorism, not an example to adopt terrorism in the Middle East.
I smile as I look upon this beautiful example, and how it is being created and formed, with plenty of wisdom, and the least possible minimum of damage to lives and property… GOD only knows when this example will be accomplished, and how many casualties will be paid for that.
I do not know.
The equation still goes between fools and criminals, who are disfiguring the world… and each thinks himself right. Each speaks sometimes in the name of GOD, rightness, and justice.
And there is a foolish American woman who writes to me from time to time, asking me: What have you done to help Iraqis? Why do you speak about the bad things, and not mention the good ones??
She is a supporter of Bush, and the Fox Channel…
I answer her quietly, and in contempt: Read my articles again, and you shall see that I talk about how much effort we spend to rebuild Iraq, and help the Iraqis. But I forgot to tell her that, as usual, if I have seen some good things, I would have told you, because I am more eager than you are for them.
********************************
I remembered Ghaith yesterday as I was reading his sad article…
Ghaith was a friend of Raid's; he graduated two years before him, from the collage of Architecture… Ghaith is a very polite young man, he is Christian.
He, Raid, and Salam formed a team like the Funny Trio who never separated from each other. They used to spend weekends at Salam's, watch the latest movies, have dinner and laugh. They had stories and secrets, like all young men.
Ghaith was frustrated, he couldn't continue his post-graduate studies at University, for his maternal grandmother was British. That was reason enough for the University to deny him his studies, in Saddam Hussein times.
He remained frustrated, tried the impossible to travel outside Iraq, but all efforts failed. He disappeared….
Raid graduated and went to Amman to continue his post-graduate studies, then came home weeks before the war, saying: I do not want to remain in Amman while you die. We die together, or live ….
And days after the fall of Baghdad, Ghaith reappeared…he came to visit us, we were so happy to see him…
He was so happy, he almost flew in joy… he said that he joined those at Al-Ferdouse Square to topple the statue of the tyrant, that he was so happy…as if he was born again…
I said to Raid as we were alone in the kitchen: Who would have thought the future shall smile to a young man like Ghaith??
All doors were locked. But the Mercy of GOD does not close doors.
We expected him to leave Iraq, for that was his dream…but he preferred to remain here, and work as a photographer for the British Guardian…
Him and the enthusiasm of youth, the passion to remain in one's country, while the field is hot with events…
Last evening I remembered all this as I read his article about the bloody events in Haifa Street… I wished to see him, and ask him: What do you see now??? Where is the dream we so much wanted to realize?
The tyrant fell, and violence, destruction, devastation, and blood came along…
I wished for our days to get back, so we could recapture those laughs and wishes, in a beautiful tomorrow, and a shiny future without Saddam… today, as we live in the heart of death and ordeal, and we still dream of tomorrow, and the future…
But I don't suppose it will be made by Bush, or an occupying force…
The future we want…can only be made by our hands, hearts, and minds….because these love Iraq and the Iraqis, because they feel sorry for the wounds and death of Iraqis, because they are hands, hearts, and minds bearing the scent of this country, and the love of this country…
And those who love, do not hurt their loved ones… they hesitate one thousand and one times before acting foolishly, or wasting innocent lives.
Or allowing criminal gangs to roam the country, and spread havoc. Or some organized bands from abroad, that kidnap, kill, and spread chaos in the country…
If I was partaking in ruling, along with Iraqi men and women, who love Iraq and its people, I would have made their security my first priority, I would have told the occupying forces: Get out of the field, for your presence is the source of enticement for violence and terrorism. You enjoy the battles, fighting from inside tanks and helicopters… killing all you see walking on the ground in battle time, innocent or foe… what sort of wisdom is it in handling matters??
Then you spread stories there, in your media, about a strong Iraqi interim government, an adequate Iraqi Police and Army force, and the beginning of a pull-out of the American army from Baghdad…
And we here are burned with the fire of chaos, violence, and the tremendous security failure…
Why do you lie???
Say : We have failed, we shall try again… be more credible, do not destroy us, and use us as an advertisement for false stories.
If you succeed here, the whole world shall learn your success stories… and if you fail, the whole world shall learn…
So, why do you lie???
Why do you lie???
For some posts, and a new ruling term??
If you were truthful here, we, the Iraqis, shall call, and all the world shall hear, that you were honest, you liberated Iraq, and helped its people to rebuild it again…. We shall ask all the world to clap for you…
But today, you are just a bunch of fools and liars…
You destroyed our country by a foolish adventure, and a visible misconduct that no two onlookers would disagree about ( I mean here, and not the misled there), so, what shall we expect from you???
Do you want more opportunities, to commit more follies??
Who would guarantee for us that you shall be wiser than what you did to us, during the last months???
No one can guarantee… the same faces, the same logic, and the same vision…
I wish the world would open its eyes, to see you truthfully, as we have….
I wish there are still some honest people left in this world, who would stop you at your limit…
And I wish to witness your trial, in front of GOD, on the Day of Judgment.
What shall you tell him….and your hands are tarnished by the blood of the innocent….
*******************************************
If I was partaking in ruling Iraq… I would have made the security my first priority…then building the establishments of civilian society… organizations and societies, for they are better than parties… because they do not have a narrow horizon in life, and gather under its wings millions of people, combined by the willingness to contribute, and the national, social effort…
While parties enhance the desire of self interest, and the benefits go to one faction, excluding others…they dispel, and do not join.
Establishments of civilian society are capable of rebuilding the torn fabric of society after the war… neither the occupation forces, nor the interim government succeeded…
The people builds its own fabric, by him self, all over again…
And through these organizations, the people learn to love life, building, and contribution.
I would have asked all religious parties, Sunni and Shi'aa, to announce the innocence of Islam from all violence, terrorism, kidnappings and killings in the name of Islam, and in defense of the Muslims.
People are the ones who will pull the rug from under the feet of the liars and fakes… so they no longer have the ability to transmit their venom, and non-humanitarian deeds.
I would have pressured news agencies not to write about criminals or kidnappers, not announce their demands, nor give them any importance to roam the media while transmitting their poisons and committing their crimes, as if the media joins and encourages them, as the suspicious Al-Jazzera Channel is doing, promoting violence and terrorism, and picturing criminals from inside the operations locations like heros…
If I were in a position of authority and decision, I wouldn't have left any means of protecting people from harm and violence, untried… I would have encouraged them to form popular comities in each area, to provide security for each district by its own people, who wouldn't allow a kidnapper or a thieve to move about their area…
The activation of civil organizations is the activation of the collective work spirit… it is the renewing of self-confidence, and the ability to build a new homeland, and a beautiful future….
But the actual reality differs… an aimless occupying force, growing terrorism and crime… a confused, shaken interim government, and a multi-million people who are lost, frightened, and wouldn't know what to do, how to spend their day??? Nor how to make tomorrow? And how to make it better????
A country is made by its Men and Women…. Every time, every place…. And a super power would not come from abroad, nor a foolish force from inside, and interfere in making it… theses are illusions and superstitions…
A country is made only by its loyal Men and Women. When will Iraqis posses this chance????
*********************************
News of Simona Torreta and Simona Pari, and the Iraqis with them, are still remote and ambiguous… the criminal kidnappers are threatening to kill them, perhaps also in the name of Islam, and the Muslims…
So are the news of the kidnapped French Journalists, remote and ambiguous.
Our hearts are still sad for them… we pray night and day for them to get back home in peace and safety…
We trust in the mercy of GOD, we ask HIM to have them go free, and end their ordeal…Amen.
***************************************
Translated by May/ Baghdad.


Friday, September 17, 2004

 
Hi: This post is by me, Khalid.

After a year and a half of the invation of Iraq, we are still under occupation.Alot of American people care to know what things are really like, what is going on in Iraq, and how is our daily life going.
The Jarrars (Faiza, Raed and Khalid) are preparing to come to the states to make a tour, talk in Universities and other places, meet as much people as possible, to talk about Iraq and the war.


We are looking for sponsorship, if anyone is interested please contact me.

khalidjarrar@gmail.com
khalidjarrar@hotmail.com
khalidjarrar@yahoo.com


thank you:)
me*

 
Monday, September 13, 2004
Good evening…..
Baghdad today is calm and quiet…Yesterday was the day of explosions…I went out to finish some lagging matters, but found all the streets closed, we kept turning around, trying to get on, without success, until I told the driver: Take me back home, for half the day has passed uselessly…
There were some bombings in the morning, the noises of mortar grenades shelling on the Airport, then on the Green Zone, then the explosion of a trapped car near the bridge of the Embassies Quarters in Ameriyya…
All accesses and streets leading to the area were sealed….
Every body's business was halted……..
And by evening, T.V. screens showed reports of violence acts and fighting in Haifa street, between the American forces and Iraqi Gunmen. We are tired, we no longer ask-What, How, or Who??
Then we saw Al-Arabiya Channel Correspondent get shot in front of the camera, and die. He was only 26 years old.
I kept thinking of his poor parents all night long, and what they would do. He was a young man at the beginning of his life's journey.
How many young men like him fell here, whether we know them or not, the victims of a stupid, foolish war, which some stupid, foolish people still support, not knowing what they are doing.
********************************
And the news of the two kidnapped Italian girls is still obscure…
There is an organization that threatens to kill them, and of course you will find the words Islam or Muhammad in the organization's name….so that the Media proposed story would be complete.
The organization that kidnapped the girls reaped the results of its crime exactly as planned.
All the Humanitarian Organizations members remaining in Iraq has left, that was the First Target, and the threats to kill them, issued in the name of an Islamic organization, in the name of GOD, and in the defense of Islam…and that was the Second Target- to Destroy and Maim what is left of Islam….
To kidnap two girls from a humanitarian organization, whose attitude is well known against the war on Iraq, , and against the Berlusconi war- supporting Government…why didn't they kidnap Italian soldiers, for example???
Because they are lying cowards, and their hands couldn't reach further than peaceful women who carry no weapons and wear no armors…
These women came here to help the Iraqis, to build their schools and hospitals…who decided they are the required target??? Who else but a coward who doesn't even have the ability to face men… just like the cowards who drew weapons in my face and robbed my car…if they had an ounce of manhood they wouldn't have stood in the face of a defenceless woman who carried no weapons…
I pray to GOD day and night to save Simona Torreta and Simona Parri and those with them in this ordeal, send them home to their family in safety, and expose those who were behind this organized crime, to have HIS revenge upon them, and scandalize them…GOD is the one capable of everything.
************************************
This week was full of events and confrontations for me…
As for the Women's Society, there was a meeting at the Conference Palace with an American lady whose husband is an Iraqi, and she has a humanitarian organization in Kuwait.
We went to the Conference Palace, the driver drove away after dropping me at the gate, and I told him to come back for me in 2 hours.
This was the first time I entered the place, I was dying of curiosity…I wanted to see what's in there, for I always heard about it, but no occasion occurred to take me there… now I have my Women's Society ID, and we have a meeting, and that was a story I shall keep repeating at every checkpoint…
I can't recall how many checkpoints, but my handbag was opened, and its contents scattered many times, while I smiled patiently…wanting to get to the meeting, and find an end to all this torment.
The labyrinths I walked through, surrounded by cement barrels filled with sand, then surrounded by barbed wire, all say that we are here in the heart of battle.
I took my first steps saying: In the name of GOD, by GOD let it be cool and safe… If I die here, take me to YOU as a martyr who died for the Iraqis, her whole intention is to work well for them. If you keep me alive, BE with me, and help me finish the road in the way that satisfies YOU.
That is how I give my self confidence, and drive fears away…
*********************************
Inside the Conference Palace is another world… a quiet, beautiful, clean world…the soldier's faces are nice and smiling, not like the grim faces of those in the streets driving Humphys or tanks, their faces cruel and frightening.
Some of them sat in a hall, behind glass partitions, working quietly on a lap-top. Others moved around in the various halls, carrying cups from which the Nescafe' aroma was spreading. The whole atmosphere here is peaceful and calm… The Iraqis here are a certain type, cooperative and very much convinced about the atmosphere… No, I wouldn't call them traitors or such…perhaps they are satisfied as to the rightness of this relationship, the rightness of collaboration with the invading forces. And I do not mean the visitors like me, but the employees who come here daily, facing death and fear everyday, or face being assassinated at their front doors as they get home in the evening...
Yes, it is a risk, my judgment, and my question is: Is it for the sake of the job here, and the high salary??
I do not know, for the equation is tough, and even if you ask the American soldier himself: Why are you here?? Isn't it for the high salary??
Do not tell me it's about freedom and democracy and all that nonsense…
Even if such was the case back in America, when you get to Baghdad, you will see the other side of the story, and will be shocked by the painful question: Why am I here?? The high salary will then become the solace to your sadness.
*********************************
I finally got inside the building…and asked about the meeting place, then looked for hall No. 4, and found it upstairs. It was empty, the meeting to start in a short while…so I walked around the floor, then spotted a cafeteria, where I stopped and had some juice… I wandered slowly, meditating… in the 1990 war this building was bombed by American planes, or guided missiles from the Red Sea, and before the last war, the former government carried out a major maintenance campaign for the building, which probably cost millions… and during the Air Raids in the last war I said to Azzam: Maybe they will not bomb all presidential sites, for they will need some of them, and wouldn't harm it… and as I expected, the Conference Palace was not harmed…as if fate was mocking Saddam Hussein: Did you reconstruct it to become a post for them???
Well, the world is full of silent irony…
***************************
I moved around in the floor, gazing at the slogans, carvings and ornamentations, some of them used to have photos of Saddam Hussein, but those has been destroyed… and slogans like: Coolness and Peace… The Martyrs are The Most Generous of Us All… remained.
I read those and smiled… I imagined the voice of Saddam Hussein still ringing around the hall, and the noise of those who clapped for him, and cheered him… how foolish Man is, and how full of lies and hypocrisy??
If the walls could speak of what it has heard here, perhaps people would feel ashamed, and be wiser.
I felt lies were mingling with truth, right with wrong, and there is no clear identity for anything… that's how the world is today….. Double-faced, and disgusting.
*******************
The American lady arrived, along with members of Iraqi non-governmental humanitarian organizations, from Baghdad, and from the South, men and women… there were some men who are the heads of organizations caring for children ill with Cancer, or young people addicted to drugs.
I found that most people present did not speak English, so I volunteered to work as an interpreter, and in truth, I found it an enjoyable task, as I laughed a lot, maybe because I was a volunteer, I performed the task with a full mood, and by the audience's, so we laughed a lot… but were I an employee, I would have been more serious, and wouldn't even smile…..
All right, the lady was very respectable, and decently dressed, wearing a two- piece costume, in the Gulf women fashion ( a long dress, over which she was wearing a long black overcoat, embroidered by golden threads)…Her hair was completely white… she was nice and calm…very elegant and clean, and she smelled of refreshing shampoo ( these are my personal impressions, because I stood beside her on the platform all the meeting…).
Her speech was logical and calm, she said she lives in Kuwait, and knows a lot of rich families there who want to help Iraqis, Mothers to Mothers, and Fathers to Fathers. She said she can collect donations, clothes or books or toys, for poor and orphaned Iraqi children. She shall try to explain to us how to prepare project's proposals, that could have a chance to be implemented, and get funding… the important factor being the budget, for however small and logical it was, that project would gain a chance to reach the implementation stage.
*********************
The audience had a lot of questions, mostly from frustrated people, as they submitted their projects, only to be rejected time and again, without finance… or that someone took the financing to himself, and run away…
The woman said she sympathizes with them, and want them to give her a chance to help them again…
A woman present protested, she had a society, saying to me: Ask her why our people are poor, while our country is full of wealth?
I laughed and said: What has she to do with that?? Are we going to tell her our life story??
Laughter spread in the hall, but the woman insisted and said: Ask her, I looked at the lady in embarrassment, what has that subject to do with what we are about? I felt ashamed to tell her, because I found that as an insult to her…
Tell her we do not want the used clothes she will bring us… tell her that every dollar she will give us is our money…Iraqis money…
I fell to laughter, and couldn't translate; I found these questions unnecessarily aggressive. This is not Mrs. Bush; this is a lady who came to help.
The lady was standing beside me, wondering at what is happening, as I told them: Listen, we are humanitarian organizations; we do not say this is an American, so we do not want her help, or those are Kuwaitis, so we do not want their help. She came to help us in the name of humanity…we are all brothers here…
The angry woman said: This is your personal opinion, tell her ours…
I started explaining, feeling embarrassed.
Her husband came into the hall, he is an Iraqi Doctor working here…he stood beside her and explained what they said…then addressed the audience…
I told them: well, this is her husband, an Iraqi, so listen to what he has to say… of course they laughed, and said: We didn't know her husband is an Iraqi, then she is one of us… and all was quiet again.
The talk returned to being clear and friendly, not interrupted by troublesome people. Strange how people sometimes think???
*********************************
I went back home full of hope and happiness…I shall write plenty of projects. But I was surprised by an angry Azzam: The conditions are not proper, working with the Society is dangerous for you and the family, and I suggest freezing your activities with them for the coming month or two… go to work in the morning, but cancel all your social activities, we want no troubles…in the evening when I get back, tell me your opinion.
I told my self: Thank GOD there is still room for democracy, I'll think very well, and be prepared to give my opinion. I sat down with my papers, pencils, and calculator…and started thinking of my project about marketing and selling the products of poor Iraqi families.
Azzam came back in the evening…. I said: I want to talk, will you listen?
He looked coolly, as usual, then nodded his head in agreement.
I told him that people are different…the matter of difference arising from the vision each has towards life. Some people like sacrifices and participation, while others feel afraid, and want to hide, perhaps so they could stay alive longer… in the meeting today I saw a light as if coming from far away… the light of hope in building a new Iraq…and the contributing to that building… this is a priceless happiness. I went to the meeting regardless of danger and fear, but I came back with a strong, happy, optimistic personality…
If I sit at home, I will see nothing but frustration, sadness, and bad news, explosions, death and destruction… this is our daily life… but social work has a different taste, gives hope of a beautiful future, and to participate in manufacturing that future is boundless happiness…
I who saw criminals in front of my face with their weapons, they almost killed me, they robbed me of my car, I remained shocked and frustrated, closed the door of my room and cried….for a week or more. Then I came back to my life, stronger, more active, and convinced. I do not want those scums to have their victory upon me. I don't want thieves to fill the streets, government jobs, and public societies, while I hide at home… I will keep participating, pushing towards the better, and if they kill me, do not be sad for me, but say she died happy and satisfied. This is the life that I see worthy of living… I do not want to hide like a rat…
***********************************************
Azzam remained unconvinced, indignant….
Saturday came, that was the weekly meeting of the Society, I called and apologized about not coming… I told them the situation at home is tense, and I learned not to escalate situations…
I always have my life's priorities…GOD, then the family.
I do not want to cause trouble in the family. Next week by GOD's will I shall attend. Call me this evening and tell me what your discussion was at the organization today??
*****************************
I thought to my self, the parable says: Behind every great man there is a woman who supports him.
I said to my self: and in front of every intelligent, ambitious woman there is a man who opposes her… her father, brother, or husband… one time propelled by love, another by fear for her…. That is the reason for the shortage of distinguished women in our lives…. How many a woman who had intelligence, abilities, and ambitions was aborted and killed, because she is a woman.
With whom do we discuss these questions??? With women?? Or men???
***************************************
In the evening, two members in the society's administration group called. They said the meeting was a battle. The head of the society monopolizes conferences and training courses abroad to herself, spends the society's money in her own way, and refuses questioning and giving accounts. So come in the next meeting, and speak up….
I Put my hand on my cheek again: How many sorrows we see, and how many lovely dreams is spoiled by the selfish?? We joined this society to contribute, and work honestly…and here we are colliding with corruption, selfishness, and single-mindedness in authority… a contagious virus from Saddam Hussein, or perhaps it is an old virus, since the beginning of man's history.
There is a parable that says: They asked the Pharaoh, why have you become an unjust tyrant?? And he said: No body stopped me in my limits….
I told my colleagues in the administration group: Next meeting we shall speak frankly, and stop the new Pharaoh in her limits.
**********************************
Life is tiring, but interesting .
The engineer who came a few weeks ago, to whom I gave a softener system's offer, then his colleague came to offer buying it from me, to sell it back to the factory, with a price of his own, so I threw him out of the shop…
Well, that first engineer came today, paid the money, and took the equipments… he said the factory Manager sent his greetings, he read your name on the card, and said: I know this engineer, isn't she UM Raid ( Raid's mother)??
He called his wife and asked her about you, said she knew you… then the manager suggested that we buy only from you the next times…
I laughed and asked: How do they know me?? He said: I didn't really get it, perhaps they were with you in collage, the Manager and his wife are both engineers.
I smiled and said inside: This is a small sign that GOD is with what is right. All the conspiracies of the Purchasing Committee has failed, and GOD supported me some way.
*********************************
I still have the matter of Majid…
He called me, angry, and said: Mama, I am not in Vancouver, I am in British Colombia…
I said: Wait, let me get the Atlas and look, so I could understand you…
In the Atlas I found that Vancouver was a small island, and British Colombia was a big state. I said: But darling, when you got there you said you were in Vancouver, and the collage is in a town one hour from there… so I thought your town is the smaller one. All right, I'll tell everyone you are in the town of Victoria, in the district of British Colombia, and I'll write the name of the school.
''Pearson college of the Pacific, Victoria, BC ''
He said: Mama, we see the coast of California from here…
I said: Son, are you crazy?? California is in the south, perhaps you see the coast of Seattle… he stubbornly refused my opinion… so I said: All right, I have the Atlas in front of me… go buy one for your self, so u would believe me…
***************************************

I hoped all the problems of the people, and their quarrels about life matters could be solved as we solved the problem of Geography by the Atlas…
Look for your self, and be sure…. But Man was created a lover of arguments and debate… and these are tiring traits.
No two people could agree to a solution….
GOD created the world, and humans…
HE has the wisdom of everything….
***********************************

Translated by May/ Baghdad.



Thursday, September 16, 2004

 
الخميس 16 ايلول 2004
مساء الخير....
تحسن الجو كثيرا في بغداد, في الصباح نسمات باردة جميلة تأتي من الشبابيك المطلة على الحديقة.
سأذهب لشراء شتلات ورود جديدة للفصل القادم, إن شاء الله.
ننتظر الشتاء بفارغ الصبر...سنلبس ملابس ثقيلة, ونرى المطر ينهمر علينا...
كم أحب المطر وأشتاق اليه..
أحسه يغسل الشوارع والأشجار والأبنية, واتمنى لويقدر أن يغسل الظلام والحقد من قلوب البشر....
ليسود السلام على الأرض...آمين.
********************************
وضعت مقالة غيث على الموقع يوم أمس, وهي تتحدث عن احداث يوم الأحد الماضي...
كان يوما مخضبا بالدماء....دماء العراقيين البؤساء.
والأحداث كانت في شارع حيفا, وقد وضعت صوره عدة مرات على موقعنا, وهو شارع بعمارات سكنية عالية
حديثة التصاميم.
وخلفه منطقة قديمة فقيرة, هي بقايا من أحياء بغداد القديمة .
وكنت دائما حين أزور أخي الساكن في عمارة هناك, كنت أجد هذه العمارات كجسم غريب دخل المدينة..
لا علاقة له بالبيئة المحيطة.
والذي يزيد سوء المنظر, هو تلك البيوت القديمة المتداعية التي تقبع خلف العمارات...
كأن ثمة عالمين لا علاقة ببعضهما البعض, يتجاوران هنا, بطريقة ما...غريبان عن بعضهما.
وبقيا كعالمين غريبين منذ الثمانينات وحتى الآن....
سواء بالمواصفات السكنية, أو الإجتماعية أو الإقتصادية.
**********************************
ويوم الأحد إمتلأت المنطقة بالقتال والعنف والدم...وهذه ليست المرة الأولى, لكنها ربما الأشد عنفا..
دماء...دماء...دماء..
لطخت الأرصفة والشوارع والمحلات التجارية, والبنايات السكنية, ثم عدسات كاميرات وكالات الأنباء
وقتل مراسل محطة العربية, وجرح غيث وغيره من المصورين .
وجرح ومات عشرات من العراقيين المدنيين.
طائرات هليكوبتر أمريكية كانت تحوم وتقصف...والجثث تتكوم, ولا أحد يقدرأن يتقدم وينقذ الجرحى..
وفي مؤتمر صحفي حضره الصحفيون الغاضبون في بغداد , إعتذر المسؤول الأمريكي عن مقتل وجرح المراسلين والمدنيين, وقال إنهم (قوات الإحتلال ) يبذلون جهدهم لتقليل الإصابات والأضرار.
نعم كلنا نصدق هذا ونلاحظ جديته.....هه.؟
اليست نفس المسرحية تتكرر في الفلوجة وسامراء والنجف والكوفة ومدينة الصدر؟؟؟
طائرات تقصف وبيوت تتهدم ومدنيين قتلى...
والرجل يعتذر.....
يا إلهي
*****************************
بالأمس قال السائق إنه قبل مجيئه الى بيتنا ليأخذني للعمل, أخذ اخته الى مستشفى النعمان في الأعظمية لأنها مريضة,
وكانت صالة الطواريء تمتليء بجثث الشرطة العراقية من جرحى وقتلى...
ثمة مجرمين توقفوا في الصباح الباكر ونزلوا من سياراتهم في ساحة عنتر بالأعظمية, واطلقوا النار على دورية شرطة بأسلحة اوتوماتيكية, وملأوا الشارع بدمائهم وجثثهم , ولاذوا بالفرار....
وقبلها بيوم كان ثمة هجوم على دوريات شرطة في بغداد ومدن أخرى, وراح عدد كبير منهم ضحايا...
واليوم سمعنا ونحن في المحل, صوت إنفجار قريب, تبين فيما بعد إنه هجوم ضد دورية شرطة عند مطعم الرواد في المنصور...وهي منطقة تجارية مزدحمة.
وأقرأ في الجريدة اليوم ان بوش يعد أن يجعل من العراق نموذجا لمحاربة الإرهاب, لا نموذجا لتبني الإرهاب
في الشرق الأوسط.
وأبتسم وانا أنظر لهذا النموذج الجميل كيف يتم خلقه وتكوينه بحكمة بالغة, وبأقل الخسائر للأرواح والممتلكات...
والله وحده يعلم متى سيتحقق هذا النموذج ., وكم من الخسائر ستدفع من أجل تحقيقه.
لا أدري...
المعادلة ما زالت تمضي بين حمقى ومجرمين, يشوهون العالم...وكل واحد يظن نفسه على حق.
وكل واحد يتكلم احيانا بإسم الله والحق والعدالة .
وثمة امريكية حمقاء تظل تراسلني من حين لآخر, وتسالني : ماذا فعلت لمساعدة العراقيين؟
ولماذا تتحدثين عن الأشياء السيئة , ولا تقولين الجيدة؟؟
وهي من مشجعات بوش وقناة فوكس...
فأجيبها بهدوء وازدراء: إقرأي مقالاتي ثانية وسترين انني أتكلم عما نبذله من جهد لبناء العراق ومساعدة العراقيين. ونسيت ان أقول لها كعادتي, لو رأيت ثمة أشياء مفرحة سأخبركم, لأنني أكثر شوقا لها منكم.
********************************
وتذكرت غيث أمس وانا أقرأ مقالته الحزينة...
غيث كان صديق رائد, وكان تخرج قبل رائد بسنتين من كلية الهندسة المعمارية...
غيث شاب مهذب جدا., وهو مسيحي.
كان يشكل مع رائد وسلام فريقا مثل الثلاثي المرح الذي لا يفترق عن بعضه.
كانوا يقضون نهاية الأسبوع عند سلام, ويتفرجون على آخر الأفلام, ويتعشون ويضحكون, ولهم قصص وأسرار
مثل كل الشباب.
كان غيث محبطا, لم يتمكن من إكمال الدراسات العليا في الجامعة, حيث تبين أن جدته من امه بريطانية.
وهذا كان سببا لتمنعه الجامعة من إكمال دراسته أيام صدام حسين.
ظل محبطا, وحاول المستحيل للسفر خارج العراق, وفشلت كل المحاولات.
واختفى عن الأنظار....
وتخرج رائد وسافر لإكمال الماستر في عمان. ثم عاد قبل الحرب بأسابيع وقال : لا أريد أن أظل في عمان وتموتوا أنتم. نموت سوية أو نعيش....
بعد سقوط بغداد بأيام ظهر غيث...وجاء لزيارتنا, وفرحنا جدا لرؤيته...
وكان كثير السعادة, يكاد يطير من الفرح...
قال انه شارك مع الواقفين في ساحة الفردوس لإٍسقاط تمثال الطاغية. وإنه كان سعيد جدا...كأنه ولد من جديد...
قلت لرائد ونحن وحدنا في المطبخ : من كان يصدق ان المستقبل سيبتسم لشاب مثل غيث؟؟
كل الأبواب كانت موصدة.
لكن رحمة الله لا توصد الأبواب.
توقعنا انه سيغادر العراق, حيث كان ذلك حلمه...لكنه آثر البقاء هنا والعمل مع الغارديان البريطانية كمصور..
هو وحماسة الشباب وحب البقاء في الوطن والساحة ساخنة بالاحداث...
مساء أمس , تذكرت كل هذا بعد ان قرات مقالته عن احداث شارع حيفا الدامية...
وتمنيت أن أراه وأقول له : ما ترى؟؟؟
أين هو الحلم الذي أردناه ان يتحقق ؟
سقط الطاغية, وجاء العنف والخراب والدمار والدماء...
تمنيت أن تعود أيامنا لنسترجع تلك الضحكات والأمنيات بغد جميل ومستقبل مشرق بلا صدام...
واليوم نعيش في قلب المحنة والموت, وما زلنا نحلم بالغد والمستقبل...
ولكني لا اظن سيصنعه بوش أو قوات إحتلال...
المستقبل الذي نريده...لا تصنعه سوى أيدينا وقلوبنا وعقولنا....
لأنها تحب العراق والعراقيين , لأنها تألم لجرح ومقتل العراقيين, لأنها أيد وقلوب وعقول تحمل رائحة هذا الوطن, وحب هذا الوطن...
والذي يحب, لا يؤذي من يحبهم...
يحسب ألف حساب وحساب قبل أن يتصرف بحماقة, أو يزهق ارواحا بريئة.
أو يسمح لعصابات الإجرام ان تنطلق وتعيث فسادا في البلاد.
أو عصابات منظمة من الخارج تخطف وتقتل وتنشر الفوضى في البلاد...
لو كنت أشارك في الحكم مع عراقيين وعراقيات, يحبون العراق وشعبه, لجعلت الأمن لهم أول أولوياتي
ولقلت لقوات الإحتلال: إبتعدوا عن الساحة, وجودكم هو مصدر الجذب للعنف والإرهاب.
انتم تستمتعون بالمعارك, وتخوضونها من داخل الدبابات والهليكوبترات...وتقتلون كل من ترونه يمشي
على الأرض وقت المعركة. عدو أو بريء...ما هذه الحكمةفي معالجة الامور؟؟
ثم تنشرون القصص هناك في وسائل الإعلام, عن حكومة عراقية مؤقتة قوية, وجيش وشرطة عراقية كافية
وبداية سحب الجيش الأمريكي من بغداد...
ونحن هنا نكتوي بنار الفوضى والعنف والفشل الأمني الذريع...
لماذا تكذبون؟؟؟
قولوا اننا فشلنا, واننا سنحاول من جديد...كونوا اكثر مصداقية, لا تدمرونا وتستعملونا دعاية لقصص كاذبة.
إن نجحتم هنا فالعالم كله سيسمع قصص النجاح...وإن فشلتم, فالعالم كله سيسمع...
فلماذا تكذبون؟؟؟
لماذا تكذبون؟؟؟
من اجل مناصب وفترة حكم جديدة؟؟
إن كنتم صدقتم هنا, فنحن العراقيين سننادي وليسمعنا كل العالم, أنكم شرفاء , وحررتم العراق, وساعدتم اهله
لبنائه من جديد....سنطلب من كل العالم أن يصفق لكم...
لكنكم اليوم مجرد حفنة من الحمقى والكذابين...
دمرتم وطننا بمغامرة حمقاء ..وسوء تدبير واضح لا يختلف عليه اثنان من المشاهدين ( هنا وليس من المخدوعين هناك .
فماذا ننتظر منكم؟؟؟
تريدون مزيدا من الفرص, لترتكبوا مزيدا من الحماقات؟؟
من يضمن لنا أنكم ستكونوا أكثر حكمة مما فعلتم بنا طوال الشهور الماضية؟؟؟
لا احد يضمن, نفس الوجوه, ونفس المنطق, ونفس الرؤيا...
أتمنى ان يفتح العالم عيونه ليراكم على حقيقتكم كما رأيناكم....
واتمنى أن ثمة بقية من الشرفاء في هذا العالم سيوقفونكم عند حدكم...
وأتمنى أن أرى حسابكم أمام رب العالمين يوم القيامة.
وماذا ستقولون له....
وأيديكم ملطخة بدماء الأبرياء. ...
*******************************************
لو كنت ممن يشارك في حكم العراق...
لجعلت الأمن هو اول الأولويات...ثم بناء مؤسسات المجتمع المدني...منظمات وجمعيات, هي افضل من أحزاب..
لانها لا تملك أفقا ضيقا للحياة, وتضم تحت جناحها ملايين من الناس تجمعهم الرغبة في المشاركة والعمل الوطني والإجتماعي...
بينما الأحزاب تربي الرغبة في المصلحة الذاتية والإستفادة لفئة دون أخرى...وتفرق ولا تجمع .
وهذه منظمات المجتمع المدني هي التي تعيد بناء نسيج المجتمع الممزق بعد الحرب...
لا قوات إحتلال نجحت في بناء النسيج, ولا حكومة مؤقتة نجحت...
الشعب يبني نسيجه من جديد بنفسه...
من هذه المنظمات يتعلم الشعب حب الحياة , وحب البناء, والمشاركة.
ولطلبت من كل الأحزاب الدينية, السنية والشيعية, أن تعلن براءة الإسلام من العنف والإرهاب, وعمليات الخطف
والقتل بإسم الإسلام والدفاع عن المسلمين.
الشعب هو الذي يسحب البساط من تحت أقدام الكاذبين المزيفين...فلا يعود لهم قدرة على بث سمومهم وأعمالهم اللا إنسانية.
ولكنت ضغطت على وكالات الأنباء الا تكتب عن مجرمين او خاطفين, ولا تذكر مطالبهم, ولا تعطيهم أهمية
لينطلقوا عبر الإعلام ويبثوا سمومهم ويقترفوا جرائمهم وكأن الإعلام يشارك معهم ويشجعهم, كما تفعل قناة الجزيرة المشبوهة, التي تغذي العنف والإرهاب وتصور المجرمين من داخل موقع العمليات وكأنهم أبطال...
لو كنت في موقع السلطة والقرار, لما تركت وسيلة لحماية الناس من الأذى والعنف...وكنت شجعتهم على بناء لجان شعبية في المناطق لتوفير الأمان لكل حي من أهله أنفسهم, لن يسمحوا لخاطف أو سلاب أن يتجول في المنطقة...
إحياء المنظمات المدنية, هو إحياء لروح العمل الجماعي...هو إحياء لروح الثقة بالنفس, والقدرة على بناء وطن جديد وغد جميل....
لكن واقع الحال مختلف...
قوات إحتلال تتخبط, وإرهاب وإجرام يزداد...وحكومة مؤقتة مرتبكة مهزوزة, وشعب بالملايين تائه, خائف,
لا يدري ما يفعل, لا في يومه كيف سيمضيه؟؟؟
ولا في غده كيف سيصنعه؟
وكيف السبيل الى جعله غد أفضل؟؟؟؟
الوطن يصنعه رجاله ونساؤه....
في كل زمان ومكان....
لا تأتي قوى خارقة أو حمقاء من الخارج وتتدخل لتصنعه ..
.هذه أوهام وخرافات...
الوطن لا يصنعه الا رجاله ونساؤه المخلصون.
فمتى سيملك العراقيون هذه الفرصة؟؟؟؟
*********************************
ما زالت سيمونا توريتا وسيمونا باري ومن معهما من عراقيين, ما زالت أخبارهم غامضة وبعيدة...
والخاطفون المجرمون يهددون بقتلهم ربما أيضا بإسم الإسلام والمسلمين...
وكذلك أخبار الصحفيين الفرنسيين المختطفين غامضة وبعيدة.
ما زالت قلوبنا حزينة من أجلهم...
وندعو لهم ليل نهار أن يعودوا لبيوتهم بسلام وأمان...
نثق برحمة الله, ونسأله أن يطلق سراحهم , وينهي محنتهم...آمين .
***************************************




Wednesday, September 15, 2004

 
faiza,
I am putting Ghaith's article at the bottom of this page. It is very well written, and was published in the Guardian paper. He is doing agood thing to get the information out to the world about what is going on inIraq, but it must be very difficult for him right now.Every day I think about you guys and hope and pray you are safe and well. I hope this madness ends soon. I wish there was something more I coulddo....
.take care,
Susan
***********************'


He's just sleeping, I kept telling myself
'On Sunday, 13 Iraqis were killed and dozens injured in Baghdad when UShelicopters fired on a crowd of unarmed civilians. G2 columnist GhaithAbdul-Ahad, who was injured in the attack, describes the scene of carnage -and reveals just how lucky he was to walk awayTuesday September 14, 2004The GuardianDead and injured Iraqi civilians on Haifa Street, Baghdad, after a UShelicopter attack. Photo: Ghaith Abdul-Ahad/Getty ImagesIt started with a phone call early on Sunday morning: "Big pile of smokeover Haifa Street." Still half asleep I put on my jeans, cursing thoseinsurgents who do their stuff in the early morning. What if I just go backto bed, I thought - by the time I will be there it will be over. In the carpark it struck me that I didn't have my flak jacket in the car, but figuredit was most probably just an IED (improvised explosive device) under aHumvee and I would be back soon.On the way to Haifa Street I was half praying that everything would be overor that the Americans would seal off the area. I haven't recovered fromNajaf yet.Haifa Street was built by Saddam in the early 80s, part of a scheme that wassupposed to give Baghdad a modern look. A long, wide boulevard with hugeSoviet high-rise buildings on both sides, it acts like a curtain, screeningoff the network of impoverished alleyways that are inhabited by Baghdad'spoorest and toughest people, many of whom are from the heart of the Sunnitriangle.When I arrived there I saw hundreds of kids and young men heading towardsthe smoke. "Run fast, it's been burning for a long time!" someone shouted asI grabbed my cameras and started to run.When I was 50m away I heard a couple of explosions and another cloud of dustrose across the street from where the first column of smoke was stillclimbing. People started running towards me in waves. A man wearing anorange overall was sweeping the street while others were running. A coupleof helicopters in the sky overhead turned away. I jumped into a yard infront of a shop that was set slightly back from the street, 10 of us withour heads behind the yard wall. "It's a sound bomb," said a man who had hisface close to mine.A few seconds later, I heard people screaming and shouting - something musthave happened - and I headed towards the sounds, still crouching behind awall. Two newswire photographers were running in the opposite direction andwe exchanged eye contact.About 20m ahead of me, I could see the American Bradley armoured vehicle, ahuge monster with fire rising from within. It stood alone, its doors open,burning. I stopped, took a couple of photos and crossed the street towards abunch of people. Some were lying in the street, others stood around them.The helicopters were still buzzing, but further off now.I felt uneasy and exposed in the middle of the street, but lots of civilianswere around me. A dozen men formed a circle around five injured people, allof whom were screaming and wailing. One guy looked at one of the injured menand beat his head and chest: "Is that you, my brother? Is that you?" Hedidn't try to reach for him, he just stood there looking at the bloodiedface of his brother.A man sat alone covered with blood and looked around, amazed at the scene.His T-shirt was torn and blood ran from his back. Two men were dragging awayan unconscious boy who had lost the lower half of one leg. A pool of bloodand a creamy liquid formed beneath the stump on the pavement. His other legwas badly gashed.I had been standing there taking pictures for two or three minutes when weheard the helicopters coming back. Everyone started running, and I didn'tlook back to see what was happening to the injured men. We were all rushingtowards the same place: a fence, a block of buildings and a prefab concretecube used as a cigarette stall.I had just reached the corner of the cube when I heard two explosions, Ifelt hot air blast my face and something burning on my head. I crawled tothe cube and hid behind it. Six of us were squeezed into a space less thantwo metres wide. Blood started dripping on my camera but all that I couldthink about was how to keep the lens clean. A man in his 40s next to me wascrying. He wasn't injured, he was just crying. I was so scared I just wantedto squeeze myself against the wall. The helicopters wheeled overhead, and Irealised that they were firing directly at us. I wanted to be invisible, Iwanted to hide under the others.As the helicopters moved a little further off, two of the men ran away to anearby building. I stayed where I was with a young man, maybe in his early20s, who was wearing a pair of leather boots and a tracksuit. He was sittingon the ground, his legs stretched in front of him but with his knee jointbent outwards unnaturally. Blood ran on to the dirt beneath him as he peeredround the corner. I started taking pictures of him. He looked at me andturned his head back towards the street as if he was looking for something.His eyes were wide open and kept looking.There in the street, the injured were all left alone: a young man with bloodall over his face sat in the middle of the cloud of dust, then fell on tohis face.Behind the cube, the other two men knew each other."How are you?" asked the man closer to me. He was lying against the cube'swall and trying to pull out his cellphone."I am not good," said the other, a young man in a blue T-shirt, restingagainst a fence. He was holding his arm, a chunk of which was missing,exposing the bone."Bring a car and come here please, we are injured," his friend was sayinginto his cellphone.The man with his knee twisted out, meanwhile, was making only a faint sound.I was so scared I didn't want to touch him. I kept telling myself he was OK,he wasn't screaming.I decided to help the guy with the phone who was screaming. I ripped hisT-shirt off and told him to squeeze it against the gash on his head. But Iwas scared; I wanted to do something, but I couldn't. I tried to rememberthe first-aid training I had had in the past, but all I was doing was takingpictures.I turned back to the man with the twisted knee. His head was on the curbnow, his eyes were open but he just kept making the faint sound. I startedtalking to him, saying, "Don't worry, you'll be OK, you'll be fine." Frombehind him I looked at the middle of the street, where five injured men werestill lying. Three of them were piled almost on top of each other; a boywearing a white dishdasha lay a few metres away.One of the three men piled together raised his head and looked around theempty streets with a look of astonishment on his face. He then looked at theboy in front of him, turned to the back and looked at the horizon again.Then he slowly started moving his head to the ground, rested his head on hisarms and stretched his hands towards something that he could see. It was theguy who had been beating his chest earlier, trying to help his brother. Hewanted help but no one helped. He was just there dying in front of me. Timedidn't exist. The streets were empty and silent and the men lay there dyingtogether. He slid down to the ground, and after five minutes was flat on thestreet.I moved, crouching, towards where they were. They were like sleeping menwith their arms wrapped around each other in the middle of the empty street.I went to photograph the boy with the dishdasha. He's just sleeping, I kepttelling myself. I didn't want to wake him. The boy with the amputated legwas there too, left there by the people who were pulling him earlier. Thevehicle was still burning.More kids ventured into the street, looking with curiosity at the dead andinjured. Then someone shouted "Helicopters!" and we ran. I turned and sawtwo small helicopters, black and evil. Frightened, I ran back to my shelterwhere I heard two more big explosions. At the end of the street the man inthe orange overall was still sweeping the street.The man with the bent knee was unconscious now, his face flat on the curb.Some kids came and said, "He is dead." I screamed at them. "Don't say that!He is still alive! Don't scare him." I asked him if he was OK, but he didn'treply.We left the kids behind the bent-knee guy, the cellphone guy and the blueV-neck T-shirt guy; they were all unconscious now. We left them to die therealone. I didn't even try to move any with me. I just ran selfishly away. Ireached a building entrance when someone grabbed my arm and took me inside."There's an injured man. Take pictures - show the world the Americandemocracy," he said. A man was lying in the corridor in total darkness assomeone bandaged him.Some others told me there was another journalist in the building. They tookme to a stairwell leading to the basement, where a Reuters cameraman, acheerful chubby guy, was lying holding his camera next to his head. Hewasn't screaming but he had a look of pain in his eyes.I tried to remember his name to call his office, but I couldn't. He was afriend, we had worked together for months. I have seen him in every pressconference, but I couldn't remember his name.In time, an ambulance came. I ran to the street as others emerged from theirhiding places, all trying to carry injured civilians to the ambulance."No, this one is dead," said the driver. "Get someone else."The ambulance drove away and we all scattered, thinking to ourselves: theAmericans won't fire at an ambulance but they will at us. This scene wasrepeated a couple of times: each time we heard an ambulance we would emergeinto the streets, running for cover again as it left.Yesterday, sitting in the office, another photographer who was looking at mypictures exclaimed: "So the Arabiya journalist was alive when you weretaking pictures!""I didn't see the Arabiya journalist."He pointed at the picture of the guy with V-neck T-shirt. It was him. He wasdead. All the people I had shared my shelter with were dead.
****************************************





Monday, September 13, 2004

 
الإثنين 13 أيلول 2004
مساء الخير...
اليوم بغداد هادئة...البارحة كان يوم التفجيرات..خرجت لإنجاز امور كثيرة متراكمة, وجدت الشوارع كلها مغلقة
وبقينا ندور ونحاول دون جدوى, ثم قلت للسائق : أرجعني للبيت, فقد انقضى نصف النهار دون جدوى...
كان ثمة تفجيرات منذ الصباح , أصوات قصف بالهاونات على المطار, ثم المنطقة الخضراء, ثم انفجار سيارة قرب جسر حي السفارات في العامرية...
وأغلقت كل الطرق والمنافذ حول المنطقة....
وتعطلت اعمال كل الناس........
وفي المساء كانت على الشاشة تعرض تقارير عن أحداث عنف وقتال في شارع حيفا
بين القوات الأمريكية ومسلحين عراقيين
تعبنا وما عدنا نسأل ماذا وكيف ومن؟؟
ثم رأينا مراسل قناة العربية وهو يتعرض للرصاص أمام عدسات الكاميرا
ثم يموت
عمره كان 26 سنة
بقيت طوال الليل أفكر بأمه وأبيه المساكين وماذا سيفعلون
مازال شابا في بداية الطريق
كم من شباب مثله سقطوا هنا
نعرفهم أو لا نعرفهم
ضحايا حرب حمقاء غبية
ما زال بعض الحمقى والأغبياء يؤيدونها
ولا يدرون ما يفعلون
********************************
وأخبار الفتاتين الإيطاليتين المخطوفتين ما زالت غامضة...
ثمة منظمة تهدد وتتوعد بقتلهما , وطبعا ستجدون في إسم المنظمة إما كلمة إسلام أو محمد....حتى تكتمل القصة المطلوب تسويقها للإعلام.
المنظمة التي خطفت الفتاتين قد حصدت نتائج جريمتها كما أرادت بالضبط.
غادر كل أعضاء المنظمات الإنسانية الباقية في العراق, هذا هو الهدف الأول, والثاني, تهديدات بقتلهما بإسم منظمة إسلامية وبإسم الله والدفاع عن الإسلام....وهذا هو الهدف الثاني, تدمير وتشويه ما تبقى من الإسلام....
يخطفون فتاتين من منظمة إنسانية موقفها معروف وهو ضد الحرب على العراق, وضد حكومة برلسكوني المساندة للحرب
لماذا لم يخطفوا جنودا إيطاليين مثلا؟؟؟
لأنهم جبناء وكاذبين, ويديهم لم تقدر ان تصل الا الى نساء مسالمات لا يحملن أسلحة ولا يرتدين دروع...
جئن لمساعدة عراقيين وبناء مدارسهم ومستشفياتهم...من الذي قرر أنهن الهدف المطلوب؟؟؟
من سوى جبان لا يملك حتى القدرة على مواجهة الرجال...تماما مثل الجبناء الذين شهروا السلاح بوجهي وسلبوا سيارتي...لو كان عندهم ذرة من الرجولة ما وقفوا بوجه إمرأة لا تحمل سلاحا ولا تقدر أن تدافع عن نفسها...
أدعو الله ليل نهار أن ينقذ سيمونا توريتا وسيمونا باري ومن معهما في هذه المحنة, وأن يرجعهما لأهلهم بالسلامة, وأن يكشف الذين كانوا خلف هذه الجريمة المنظمة, وأن ينتقم منهم ويفضحهم...أنه قادرعلى كل شيء.
************************************
هذا الأسبوع كان بالنسبة لي حافلا بالأحداث والمواجهات...
بالنسبة للجمعية النسائية.
كان ثمة إجتماع في قصر المؤتمرات, مع سيدة أمريكية زوجها عراقي,و لها منظمة إنسانية مقرها في الكويت.
ذهبنا لقصر المؤتمرات, ذهب السائق بعد أن أنزلني قرب البوابة. قلت له ان يعود بعد ساعتين.
هذه أول مرة أدخل هذا المكان, كنت سأموت من الفضول...أريد أن أرى مافيه, دائما أسمع عنه, ولم تحدث مناسبة أو مشاركة...الآن معي هوية المنظمة النسائية, وعندنا إجتماع, وهذه قصة سأظل أذكرها عند كل نقطة تفتيش...
لا أتذكر كم نقطة تفيش, لكن حقيبتي فتحت ونكشت محتوياتها عدة مرات, وأنا صابرة متبسمة...أريد أن أصل الى الإجتماع وأرى نهاية لكل هذا العذاب.
المتاهات التي مشيت فيها والمحاطة ببراميل إسمنتية مملوءة بالرمال, ومحاطة بأسلاك شائكة, كلها تقول اننا هنا في قلب المعركة.
مشيت خطواتي الأولى وقلت : بسم الله, اللهم بردا وسلاما...إن مت هنا فاجعلني عندك شهيدة ماتت من أجل العراقيين, ونيتها عمل الخير لهم.
وإن أبقيتني على قيد الحياة, فكن معي, وساعدني على إكمال الطريق بما يرضيك.
هكذا أعطي الثقة لنفسي وأبعد الخوف عنها...
*********************************
في داخل قصر المؤتمرات عالم آخر...
عالم نظيف جميل هاديء...الجنود وجوههم جميلة ومبتسمة, ليس كأولئك المتجهمين في الشوارع يركبون الهمفي أو الدبابة, وجوههم قاسية , مخيفة.
هؤلاء بعضهم يجلس في قاعة خلف الزجاج يعمل على اللاب توب بهدوء.
وبعضهم يتجول في الصالات يحمل بيده كوبا تفوح منه رائحة النسكافيه.
والدنيا هنا هدوء وسلام...نوعية العراقيين الذين هنا هم نوعية محددة, متعاونة ومقتنعة بالأجواء...
لا لست أقول خونة أو ما شابه...ربما هم مقتنعين بصواب هذه العلاقة , وصواب التعاون مع قوات الإحتلال
لا أقصد الزائرين مثلي, إنما الموظفين الذين يحضرون يوميا الى هنا, ويتعرضون للموت والرعب كل يوم,
أو يغتالونهم أمام أبواب بيوتهم وهم عائدون من العمل مساء....
نعم هي مخاطرة, وتقديري وسؤالي: هل هي من أجل العمل هنا والراتب المرتفع؟؟
لا أدري, فالمعادلة صعبة, والجندي الأمريكي نفسه لو سألته لماذا أنت هنا؟؟
اليس من أجل الراتب الجيد؟؟
لا تقل لي حرية وديمقراطية وبطيخ...
حتى لو كانت هكذا القصة هناك في أميركا, فحين تحضر الى بغداد, سترى الوجه الآخر من القصة, وستصطدم
بالسؤال المؤلم : لماذا أنا هنا؟؟
فيصبح الراتب المرتفع هو المواسي لأحزانك.
*********************************
دخلت البناية أخيرا...وسألت عن مكان الإجتماع , وبحثت عن القاعة رقم 4 فوجدتها أخيرا في الطابق العلوي
وكانت فارغة, قالوا بعد قليل سيبدأ الإجتماع...خرجت أتمشى في الطابق , رأيت كفتيريا, توقفت وشربت العصير...وتمشيت ببطء أتامل المكان...هذه البناية قصفت في حرب 1990 من قبل الطائرات الأمريكية أو الصواريخ الموجهةمن البحر الأحمر , وقبل الحرب الأخيرة قامت الحكومة السابقة بحملة صيانة شاملة للمبنى كلفتها الملايين ربما...
وخلال القصف الجوي في الحرب الأخيرة, قلت لعزام, ربما لن يقصفوا كل المواقع الرئاسية, سيحتاجون لبعضها
ولن يصيبوها بسوء...
وكما توقعت, لم يصب قصر المؤتمرات بسوء...وكأن القدر يسخر من صدام حسين: هل رممته ليكون مقرا لهم؟؟؟
الدنيا تمتليء بالسخرية الصامته ...
***************************
تجولت في الطابق, حدقت في النقوش والزخرفات والشعارات, كان بعضها يحمل صورة صدام حسين وتم إتلافها...وبقيت شعارات مثل : بردا وسلاما....والشهداء أكرم منا جميعا...
قرأتهن وابتسمت...وخيل الي أن صوت صدام حسين ما زال يتردد في القاعة, وصوت المصفقين له وهتافاتهم...
ما اغبى البشر وما أكثر نفاقهم وكذبهم؟؟
لو تتكلم الجدران عما سمعت هنا, ربما يخجل البشر ويتعظون.
أحسست بأن الكذب يختلط مع الصدق, والحق مع الباطل, ولا هوية واضحة لشيء...
هكذا العالم هو اليوم..... منافق ومثير للغثيان .
*******************
حضرت السيدة الأمريكية, وجاء عدد من أعضاء منظمات إنسانية عراقية غير حكومية. من بغداد والجنوب,
رجال ونساء..
يوجد رجال رؤساء منظمات تعنى بشؤون الأطفال المرضى بالسرطان أو الشباب المدمن على المخدرات.
وجدت أن اكثر الحضور لا يتكلم الإنكليزية, فتطوعت للعمل كمترجمة, والحقيقة وجدتها مهنة ممتعة, حيث ضحكت كثيرا, ربما لكوني متطوعة فقد مارست المهنة بمزاجي ومزاج الجمهور وضحكنا كثيرا...
لكني لو كنت موظفة, سأكون أكثر جدية, ولن أبتسم حتى.....
حسنا, السيدة كانت بمظهر محتشم ومحترم, ترتدي قطعتين على طريقة نساء الخليج (جلابية وفوقها عباءة طويلة سوداء مطرزة بالذهبي ) ...وشعرها أبيض تماما...
كانت لطيفة وهادئة ..ونظيفة ورائحتها شامبو منعش( هذه إنطباعاتي الخاصة لأنني كنت أقف الى جانبها على المنصة طوال الإجتماع...) .
كان منطقها عقلانيا هادئا , قالت انها تعيش في الكويت, وتعرف الكثير من العوائل الغنية التي تريد مساعدة العراقيين, من أمهات الى أمهات, ومن آباء الى أباء.
وانها تقدر أن تجمع تبرعات ملابس أو كتب او العاب للأطفال الإيتام والفقراء العراقيين.
وانها ستحاول أن تشرح لنا كيفية إعداد مقترحات لمشاريع, حتى تكون لها فرصة أن تنفذ , وأن تحصل على تمويل...والمهم الميزانية, كلما كانت صغيرة ومنطقية , كلما كان لذلك المشروع فرصة ليأخذ مرحلة التنفيذ.
*********************
كانت من الجمهور أسئلة كثيرة, ومعظمها أنهم محبطون , حيث قدموا مشاريعهم ورفضت عدة مرات ولم تمول...
أو أن أحدا أخذ التمويل لنفسه وهرب به...
قالت السيدة انها تتعاطف معهم, وتريد أن يعطوها فرصة لمساعدتهم من جديد...
إعترضت واحدة من الحضور, وهي صاحبة جمعية, وقالت إسأليها : لماذا نحن شعب فقير وبلادنا ممتلئة
بالخيرات؟
ضحكت وقلت لها : ما شأنها؟؟
هل سنحكي لها قصة حياتنا؟؟
انتشر الضحك في القاعة, لكنها أصرت وقالت إسأليها, نظرت للسيدة بإحراج, ما علاقة هذا الموضوع بما نحن فيه؟,
خجلت أن أقول لها لأنني وجدت فيه إهانة لها..
قولي لها اننا لا نريد الملابس المستعملة التي ستجلبها لنا...
قولي لها أن كل دولار ستعطينا إياه هو من فلوسنا ..من أموال العراقيين...
غرقت في الضحك, ولم أقدر أن أترجم., وجدت في هذه الأسئلة عدوانية غير مبررة.
هذه ليست زوجة بوش, هذه سيدة جاءت للمساعدة.
..كانت المرأة تقف بجانبي مندهشة مما يحدث, وانا أقول لهم :
اسمعوا, نحن منظمات انسانية, لا نقول هذه أمريكية لا نريد منها المساعدة, واولئك كويتيون لا نريد مساعدتهم.
هذه جاءت لتساعدنا بإسم الإنسانية...كلنا هنا أخوة....
قالت المرأة الغاضبة : هذا رأيك الشخصي, قولي لها رأينا...
بدأت أشرح لها وأنا محرجة .
دخل القاعة زوجها وهو دكتور عراقي يعمل هنا...ووقف الى جانبها وشرح لها ما يقولون...ثم توجه للجمهور ليتكلم...قلت لهم : هذا زوجها عراقي, فاسمعوا ما يقول...
طبعا ضحكوا, وقالوا لم نكن نعرف أن زوجها عراقي, إذن هي واحدة منا....وساد الهدوء.
وعاد الحديث وديا وصافيا لا يقاطعه مشاغبون.
عجيب أمر الناس كيف يفكرون؟؟؟
*********************************
عدت للبيت أمتليء بالأمل والسعادة...سأكتب الكثير من المشاريع.
لكني فوجئت بعزام الغاضب: الظروف غير مناسبة, والعمل مع الجمعية خطر عليك وعلى العائلة, أقترح تجميد علاقتك مع الجمعية لشهر او أثنين قادمين...إذهبي صباحا للعمل, وقومي بإلغاء كل نشاطاتك الإجتماعية, لا نريد مشاكل...في المساء حين أعود, قولي لي رأيك.
قلت في نفسي: الحمد لله, توجد فسحة من الديمقراطية , سأفكر جيدا, وأستعد لإعطاء رأيي.
جلست مع أوراقي وأقلامي وحاسبتي ...وبدأت أفكر بمشروعي حول تسويق وبيع منتجات الأسر العراقية الفقيرة.
عاد عزام في المساء....
قلت له : أريد الحديث, هل تسمعني؟
نظر ببرود كعادته, واومأ برأسه, موافق.
قلت له أن الناس يختلفون...ومسألة الإختلاف تأتي من الرؤيا التي يملكها كل واحد تجاه الحياة.
بعض الناس يحبون التضحية والمشاركة, وبعض الناس يخافون ويريدون الإختباء ليبقوا على قيد الحياة فترة
أطول ربما...
في الإجتماع اليوم, رأيت نورا كأنه يأتي من بعيد...نور الأمل ببناء عراق جديد...والمشاركة في هذا البناء..
هذه سعادة لا تقدر بثمن.
ذهبت للإجتماع رغم المخاطر والخوف, لكني عدت بنفسية قوية فرحة متفائلة...
لو جلست في البيت, لن أرى سوى الإحباط والحزن والأخبار السيئة, تفجيرات وموت ودمار...هذه هي حياتنا اليومية...لكن العمل الإجتماعي له نكهة مختلفة, يعطي الأمل بمستقبل جميل, وأن اشارك بصناعة هذا المستقبل
هي سعادة لا توصف...
أنا التي رأيت المجرمين أمام وجهي بأسلحتهم, وكادوا يقتلوني, وسلبوا سيارتي, وبقيت مصدومة ومحبطة
أغلق على نفسي الغرفة وأبكي....أسبوع أو أكثر.
ثم عدت لحياتي أكثر قوة ونشاطا وقناعة.
لا أريد لهذه الحثالة أن تنتصر علي.
لا أريد للصوص أن يملأوا الشوارع والوظائف الحكومية والجمعيات العامة, وأختبيء في بيتي...
سأظل أشارك, وأدفع نحو الأفضل, وإن قتلوني فلا تحزنوا علي, قولوا انها ماتت سعيدة وراضية,
هذه الحياة التي أراها تستحق ان تعاش...لا أريد الإختباء كالجرذ ...
***********************************************
بقي عزام متذمرا غير مقتنع....
جاء يوم السبت وكان فيه الإجتماع الإسبوعي للجمعية, إتصلت وأعتذرت عن الحضور...
قلت لهم الموقف متوتر في البيت, وتعلمت أن لا أصعد الموقف...
دائما عندي اولويات الحياة...الله ثم العائلة.
لا أريد أن أسبب مشاكل للعائلة. الأسبوع القادم سأحضر إن شاء الله. واتصلوا بي هذا المساء, بلغوني ماذا كان حديثكم اليوم في المنظمة؟؟
*****************************
فكرت مع نفسي, المثل يقول : وراء كل رجل عظيم إمرأة تسانده.
وقلت في نفسي : وأمام كل إمرأة ذكية طموحة, رجل يمنعها....أبوها أو أخوها او زوجها...
مرة بدافع الحب ومرة بدافع الخوف عليها....
وهذا سبب قلة ظهور النساء المتميزات في حياتنا....
كم من إمرأة عندها ذكاء وقدرات وطموحات , أجهضت وقتلت , لأنها إمرأة.
مع من نناقش هذه الأسئلة؟؟؟
مع النساء؟؟
أم مع الرجال؟؟؟
***************************************
في المساء, إتصلت عضوتان من الهيئة الإدارية للجمعية.
وقالتا إن الإجتماع كان عبارة عن معركة . رئيسة الجمعية تحتكر المؤتمرات والدورات التدريبة في الخارج
لنفسها, وتصرف أموال الجمعية بطريقتها الخاصة, ولا تقبل المساءلة أو المحاسبة.
تعالي في الإجتماع القادم وتكلمي....
وضعت يدي على خدي ثانية : كم من الآلام نرى, وكم من أحلام جميلة يفسدها الأنانيون ؟؟
دخلنا لهذه الجمعية لنشارك ونعمل بإخلاص...وها نحن نصطدم بالفساد والأنانية والتفرد يالسلطة...
فايروس معدي من صدام حسين, أو ربما هو فايروس قديم , منذ بداية تاريخ الإنسان.
ثمة مثل يقول : سألوا فرعون, لماذا صرت جبارا ظالما؟؟
فقال: لم أجد من يوقفني عند حدي....
فلت لزميلاتي في الهيئة الإدارية: الإجتماع القادم نتكلم بصراحة, ونوقف فرعون الجديد عند حده.
**********************************
الحياة متعبة, لكنها ممتعة.
جاء المهندس الذي اعطيته عروضا لمنظومة سوفتنر قبل أسابيع, وجاء بعدها زميله يريد أن يشتريها مني ويبيعها للمعمل بالسعر الذي يريده هو, فطردته من المحل...
اليوم جاء المهندس, ودفع المبلغ , وأخذ الأجهزة...
قال أن مدير المعمل يسلم عليك, وقد قرأ إسمك على الكرت, وقال هذه المهندسة أعرفها, اليست هي أم رائد؟؟
واتصل بزوجته وسألها عنك, وقال انها تعرفك...
لا تشتروا في المرات القادمة الا منها... هكذا اقترح المدير.
ضحكت,و قلت : من أين يعرفوني؟؟
قال : لم أفهم بالضبط, ربما كانوا معك في الكلية , مدير المعمل وزوجته مهندسين.
ابتسمت , وقلت في داخلي : هذه علامات صغيرة أن الله مع الحق.
كل مؤامرات لجنة المشتريات فشلت , وأيدني الله بطريقة ما.
*********************************
بقي موضوع ماجد...
اتصل غاضبا وقال :: ماما انا لست في فانكوفر, أنا في برتش كولومبيا..
قلت : انتظر , سأجلب الأطلس وأنظر حتى أفهمك...
رأيت في الاطلس أن فانكوفر جزيرة صغيرة, وأن برتش كولومبيا ولاية كبيرة.
قلت له : لكنك يا حبيبي حين وصلت قلت لي أنا في فانكوفر, والكلية في مدينة تبعد ساعة عن هنا...
فظننت أن مدينتك هي الصغيرة.
حسنا سأخبر الجميع انك في مدينة فكتوريا بمقاطعة برتش كولومبيا
وسوف اكتب إسم المدرسة
قال : ماما من هنا نرى ساحل كاليفورنيا..
قلت: يا ماما هل انت مجنون؟؟
كاليفورنيا في الجنوب, انت ترى ساحل سياتل ربما...
عاندني ورفض رأيي...
قلت : حسنا الأطلس أمامي...إذهب واشتر الأطلس لتصدقني...
اليوم بعث رسالة في البريد الإلكتروني : ماما أرسلي لي أطلس العالم..
قلت : ما هذه المصيبة؟؟
أعطي النصائح, ثم أدقع ثمن تطبيقها...
حسنا يا ماجد....سنرسل لك الأطلس في أقرب فرصة.
****************************************
تمنيت لو تحل مشاكل الناس وخلافاتهم حول أمور الدنيا..
كما حللنا مشكلة الجغرافيا بالأطلس...
إنظر اليه بنفسك وتأكد....
لكن الإنسان خلق وهو يحب الجدل والنقاش...
وهذه من الصفات المتعبة.
لا يتفق إثنان على حال....
الله خلق الدنيا والناس...
وهو له الحكمة في كل شيء....
********************************

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Extreme Tracker
Links
archives