Friday, December 26th, 2003:
I visited the neighbours today. The lady told me she wants to
immigrate and sell the house. All her children live abroad and life
here is difficult with no sign of improvement in the near future. She
is right. I wish I could think like her, then all my psychological
problems would be over. But I am too attached to this land. Despite
all the trouble and disaster, I love my country and would accept no
substitute. We have an apartment in Amman and right before the war
broke out my husband suggested that the kids and I stay there until
the war ends. We were on vacation at the time and I rejected the
idea completely. The thought of the war taking place while I was away
from Iraq drove me crazy and I hurriedly returned to Baghdad. It is a
matter of principle! Many people ridiculed my decision, even my
sisters called me a hopeless romantic but I stuck to my decision and
have no regrets. I told them I had not been there with them during any
of the previous wars and I felt guilty for that. I also had a hunch
that this would be Iraq's final war, and I had to share the experience
of war first hand with my family, neighbours and friends and therefore
decided to remain in Baghdad and not to leave whatever the
circumstances. Besides, what is there to live for if you all die and I
am still alive? What would I do? Life would be pointless and dull.
Those who experience the war have higher spirits than those living
abroad listening to the news worrying sick over friends and family. I
have experienced that feeling before during the Iraq-Kuwait war while
I was living in Amman. I cried daily feeling helpless worrying over my
family and loved ones in Iraq. Being there with everyone during
wartime is a mercy; consoling each other, laughing at the status quo,
and hoping to live to tell the stories.
The early days of the war were easy on the people. The main targets
were presidential and the army. Then the airborne attacks got closer
to strike targets in residential areas and this is when disaster
struck. Days and nights became frightfully scary, and fear prevented
us from going to sleep. The first night I took a valium tablet and
slept like the dead, but with
time the valium stopped being effective and the intensity of the raids
did not subside. The whole house would shake and the windows would
break and we'd have to board up the windows. We'd wake up in the
morning with pale faces and headaches from pain and worry. Many
families left their houses to areas far from Baghdad, but they were
also haunted with the fear that their
houses would be burgled or destroyed by the strikes. That was until
the day the US forces entered Baghdad airport; that day was living
hell for most residents of the capital, and we all left our houses to
stay with relatives living far from the airport area. I still think
and wonder what Saddam was betting on when he sacrificed us into that
hell! No one felt with us
bombarded by the US army with the Arab satellite channels screaming
the breaking news of the daily attacks on Baghdad, and the whole time
the Americans believing that no civilians are coming to harm! Only God
knows how we survived those days, hearing news of raids on locations
where military leaders `supposedly' were, where innocent civilians
were killed instead, which is precisely what happened during the
strike at the Al-Sa'a restaurant in Al Mansour at around three in the
afternoon when the street was packed with people walking about
thinking they'd be safe in daylight when there are no strikes! The
buildings shook at the intensity of the attack, windows broke and
houses were demolished on the families trapped inside. Those were
harsh, dark days and we don't know who takes responsibility for them.
Both sides lay blame on each other, and no one pays the price but us.
We still do. And I cannot stand like an idiot and forget all we saw
and idiotically applaud the occupying army. I am sorry but the scene
is too painful and those on the stage are tiresome.
translated By: Candide
# posted by Faiza Al-Arji @ 6:22 PM
t+hky+tm w+snk+r+:
a+l+j+ k+l+ q+r+a+H' h+dkh+ a+l+c+f+hka+t+ a+l+dky+n+ aHr+s+l+w+a+
m+sna+r+k+a+t+ l+t+r+g+m+tm y+w+m+y+a+t+y+ s+aHn+snr+ w+a+hkd+tm
f+q+tj l+y+w+m+ a+l+g+m+e+tm 26/12 aHr+s+l+t+ m+n+ k+a+n+d+y+a+y+d+ ..
.
aHr+g+w+ m+n+ k+a+n+d+a+y+d+ aHn+ t+t+r+g+m+ l+y+w+m+ a+l+x+m+y+s+
25/12 w+t+r+s+l+h+a+ a+l+j+ a+y+m+y+l+ m+a+g+d+ aHw+ x+a+l+d+ a+w+
aHy+m+y+l+y+ w+aHr+g+w+ m+n+ a+y+l+y+n+ i+l+a+m+ aHn+ t+t+r+g+m+
l+y+w+m+ a+l+a+r+b+e+a+H' 24/12 w+a+l+a+x+ m+tkn+j+ w+c+d+y+q+h+
w+l+y+d+ aHn+ y+t+r+g+m+a+ y+w+m+ a+l+tkl+a+tka+H' 23/12 .
l+k+m+ g+m+y+e+a+ g+z+y+l+ a+l+snk+r+ w+h+dkh+ m+sna+r+k+tm m+n+k+m+
t+e+b+y+r+a+ l+hkb+k+m+ l+l+e+r+a+q+ w+t+dda+m+n+k+m+ m+e+h+ f+y+
m+hkn+t+h+..
s+aHn+z+l+ m+sna+r+k+a+t+k+m+ e+l+j+ h+dkh+ a+l+c+f+hktm f+w+r+
a+s+t+l+a+m+h+a+ m+n+k+m+,+ tkm+ s+aHn+z+l+ y+w+m+y+a+t+ g+d+y+d+tm
n+t+f+q+ f+y+m+a+ b+e+d+ e+l+j+ t+r+g+m+t+h+a+.
m+hkb+t+y+ w+t+q+d+y+r+y+ l+k+m+ g+m+y+e+a+....
# posted by Faiza Al-Arji @ 6:14 PM
"Le Mer Miserable"
I live in a really nice city, where a dictator governed for 35 years,
creating anti-culture walls around the city and making it really
locked... A river splits this city into two parts ... And this river
was hand-cuffed for all these years... No one was allowed to sit by it
or talk to it or even look to it, due to 'security reasons'.
in 9th of Apr. this great Tigris was finally freed, people could talk
to the river, and everybody noticed how much the river cried after the
war ... But that lasted for only couple of months... Now, the river
was hand-cuffed again by people 'he' doesn't know and haven't met
before. Once again, the Tigris cant listen to people talking to him or
looking at him or sitting by him... Due to 'security reasons'.
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