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Four years ago, Mr.George W. Bush decided to change the lives of 25 million people, permanently. I will tell you how I lived and saw these long, probably the longest, four years.
When the war started, we had strange feelings towards it. We wanted Saddam to go, but we did not want our country to be invaded. Iraqis have resisted the invasions for thousands of years. I just could not live with the idea that American troops will be wandering around in our lovely Baghdad. I promise you I will write a series of articles about the war, but now is just not the time.
After the occupation of Baghdad, I could not believe the looting that happened. The American as well as the Arabic news channels made it look like all the Iraqis are merely thieves. No one focused on the loyal and honest state employees who kept working during all the days of war, the bakeries that remained open all the time, the brave doctors that remained in the hospitals away from their own families, and more and more of the bright sides of the Iraqi people. All we could see or hear in the news was the looting and bank robberies. The thing with all the people all around the world is that they forget, or they act as if they forgot. No one remembered that Saddam let go few thousands of thieves few weeks before the war. He even let go the HIV infected people who were detained in a remote hospital in “Haswa” about 20Km west of Baghdad.
The first year of occupation, as compared to the next three years, was heaven. The attacks were concentrated on the occupants’ troops only. And the only fear you have on the street is that when the American troops show up in the street, there is a great possibility that the will be hit. And when they are hit, they respond in rapid fire all over the place with no distinguishing between anyone. Shops used to open until 9 or 10pm. I used to spend most of my time in ‘Abu-Nu’as St.’ and walk to a friend’s house in Karrada after 10pm. Schools were open and the students were real students going to schools to learn. The electricity had its ups and downs, but on average, we would have 2 hours of electricity out of 6. The water was cut for at least 2 days a week. But we were living. What I mean by ‘we were living’ is that we were doing our best to adapt with the horrible way of living. I can not tend to forget that Iraq is the richest country in the world.
At the end of the first year of occupation and the start of the second year, attacks began to move in another direction. All people working with the American troops became targets. And gradually during the year, government officials became targets. And by government officials I don’t mean the ministers that the occupation brought, or the governing council. I mean the small officials that have no huge group of bodyguards or fancy cars terrorizing the people passing by them. The attacks against the American troops began to hurt Iraqis. The bombed cars started killing dozens of Iraqis while ‘injuring’ one or two American soldiers. Attacks of Al-Qaida and other parties started to target the new Iraqi law enforcement troops. The Iraqi police, by the end of the year, became the primary target of attacks. Shops started to close up at 8 and 7pm, according to the area. Some areas ended up being extremely dangerous for the daily attacks conducted there. Places like Adhamiya, Amirya, Dawra, and Haifa St. became war zones. The electricity became worse. On average we had one to one and a half hours out of six. The water was out for about 3 to 4 days a week. Of course, the prices of everything started to rise. This was due to the lack of electricity which costed the merchants extra money for the generators and fuel. Oh the fuel. It took us about 4 to 6 hours to get benzene for the cars and generators. And we were adapting again.
During the third year, things started to collapse rapidly. I had so many near death experiences. I was there in the explosion of a bombed car. I got caught in the middle of cross fire twice. I witnessed three roadside bombs. Few more things happened that I consider negligible. In the third year, and after two really near death experiences, I decided to leave. I could not take it anymore. And my family was very worried about me because I am always out of the house. So, I left to Jordan. And until now, I am still in Jordan. The last time I visited Baghdad was about 15 months ago.
The attacks now started targeting Iraqi people. This is because Iran and Al-Qaida agreed on eliminating the Iraqis. Iran started to convince the Shiite that the have had enough of Sunnis. Iran convinced the Shiite that all Sunnis are either with Al-Qaida or at least have some sympathy with them. Iran started to make the attacks on Iraqis look like on Shiite people only. And Al-Qaida responded by announcing that Shiite are as much as an enemy as the Americans. And that started the snow ball. Things started falling apart very quickly. Sectarian violence started to rise on the surface more clearly.
It really hurts me to write these words. It’s just so sad to see all this harmony of the people who lived together for thousands of years falling apart like that. Life used to be easier. And love was in the air. But now, the only thing in the air is bullets. And the smell of roses I used to enjoy in our garden everyday was replaced with the pure smell of blood.
Starting from February, 2006, when the two shrines in Samarra were bombarded, the end had started. Sectarian violence was taken to the peek. And it has come to a point were you don’t need a reason to be killed. Your name is adequate to get you into trouble. And sometimes, death becomes your least worries.
I can’t just write about how the electricity was or the shops were opened or not. It is only death that I can remember during the last two years. Thousands of people died because no one said no. No one was man enough to think. Is this what we really want to end up to?
Its just so hard to put down in word all the frustration, anger, and agony I feel right now.
I am sorry I can’t go on.
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After a couple of snowy days, today was a nice day. It was a nice day until few minutes ago. I was talking to a very close friend of mine. His story is my Iraqi version of newly weds.
He got married few months ago. He and his wife worked in the same company, in which I worked a couple of years back in Baghdad. They started preparing for their wedding and their apartment. The apartment was a small part in the second floor of the guy’s parents’ house. This is how it used to be in Iraq. The not-rich people in Iraq used to get married and live in the guy’s parents’ house. This is due to the high cost of buying or renting a house. And even when people did have the money enough to rent apart from their parents, they did not. Everybody usually do this for a couple of reasons; to save some money that can be useful in the future and to keep company of the new bride so she wouldn’t feel lonely and away from her family.
During that time, I was constantly in touch with both of them as both of them were my friends. They used to tell me about every single tiny thing they buy for their small studio apartment in the second floor. I even started imagining what it looks like. The small table here with the small candles all over it. And the small kitchen that they always said would not be enough for me to get in. I was not lucky enough to attend their wedding. I was stuck here in the ********** called Amman. It was a simple wedding in a lovely park in ‘Harithya’. The family and close friends attended the nice and cozy wedding.
Few weeks later the couple came to Amman for a few days for business reasons. We spent sometime together remembering the old days in Baghdad. This business trip was the replacement of they honeymoon.
Few weeks after they went back, they received a threat. The couple was half-sunni and half-shiite. But the district they lived in was under the domination of Al-Qaida in Baghdad. Yes, and area in Baghdad under the control of Al-Qaida. And Al-Qaida folks did not like the sunni-shiite mixture of that house. So, they have to leave. No matter how much they loved their little home. No matter if it was their home. No matter if they did not have another place to go to. No matter if they have the right to be at their home. They had to leave.
These threats were real. Many families in the neighborhood had to leave their homes. And those who did not take the threats seriously, had to pay. They did not have to pay money; they paid the lives of their kids or themselves.
On the other hand, the girl’s family got a threat too for living in the wrong sectarian area. And they had to leave too.
Suddenly, the three families had no where to live in. And the sectarian violence did not stop there. They threatened the families that leave their homes not to rent or sell the house.
Someone’s house is like the conclusion of their whole lives. It’s the last resort to the whole family. It’s the place to go when you are in trouble. How would you feel if all of this is just gone?
The newly weds left their small house along with their small dreams. They just had to leave everything behind as the Al-Qiada message told them.
Under which law is someone authorized to kill someone else’s dreams and hopes?
The newly weds are now cruising around the country, looking for a place that can accept the sunni-shiite mixture with no hard feelings.
Thank you Mr.George Bush
Thank you Maliki
And my thanks extends to everyone participated in giving the Iraqis this NEW LIFE.
Its raining very heavily today in Amman. Although I have been here for a couple of years, I am not accustomed with the weather here. It was very sunny and beautiful just yesterday.
Anyway, I used to love the rain. I used to like going out during the rain. Maybe because the rain used to be pure. But not anymore.
One day, during the war in 2003, there was black rain in Baghdad. It was caused by the smoke coming out of the burning oil all around Baghdad. It was one of the genius ideas of the leadership back then. Digg large trenches all around Baghdad, and fill them with black oil and set them on fire. The smoke was aimed to distract the vision of the "Smart" tomahawk missiles. I really can't see who was dumber; the smart missiles killing the innocent or the smoke makers trying to distract them.
Since the black rain day, I stopped loving the rain. When I look at the difference between this day and that day. I can't help myself noticing the great amount of destruction happened between the two. Four years were all what Bush needed to destroy the lives of millions of people. And he just can't have enough. I really would like to meet one iraqi person whom life was not affected by the war. Its just pointless to try to convince the world that the lives of the 25 million iraqi people got better in these 4 years.
Saddam's era was bad. But now, I'd really look back on Saddam's days and say that they were the good days of our lives. Bush and the group of monkies called "The Iraqi Government" managed to do the following things during the four past years:
1. Make Iraqis hate each other.
2. Make fools out of theirselves.
3. Make a hero out of Saddam.
4. Make large amounts of money.
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Few years ago back home, I was walking alone in ‘Abu-Nu’as’ Street in Baghdad. Abu-Nu’as Street, for those of you who don’t know it, was one of the most beautiful streets in Baghdad. It walks side by side with the Tigris river, and used to be a very nice place to hang-out in.
That day, I was meeting few friends of mine in a café in that street and I got off the taxi few hundred meters before the café because I always liked to walk there. I was thinking about immigration, and how I should leave Iraq and probably get another passport and live my whole life away. In this very same moment, a nice summer breeze tinkled my cheeks as I walked through. I felt like it was Baghdad’s hand reaching out to my cheek and telling me that I can’t just leave. And as I was walking, I made a promise to my lovely city that I will not leave her ever, till death do us apart. You can ask the Tigris river if you don’t believe me.
That was few years back. When life in Baghdad was a blessing that we did not appreciate well. When Abu-Nu’as street was not opposite to the ‘Green Zone’ on the other side of the river. When walking down Abu-Nu’as street did not include a bullet in the head from an American sniper.
Well, guess what my dear Baghdad ?? I lied.
I could not keep the single promise I made to you.
I lied because it not death who did us apart, its Bush. Someone you did not hear about. Perhaps you are familiar with his father. He is the one who tried to destroy you in 1991. And now his son made a vow to finish what his father started. He took you away from me, or maybe took me away from you, I just don’t know.
Last night, I got a phone call from a friend in Baghdad. MY heart jumped out of my chest (because of horror not because of happiness) as I answered. This fear of news from Iraq reminds me of some poetry I heard a very long time ago. I don’t remember the poem itself, but I still remember the main idea of it. The poem was describing how the exiled Iraqis were the only ones who fear to open letters from home because they are always expecting bad news, while other people away from their country get very happy when the receive a letter from home.
My friend was telling me that he will be coming to Amman tomorrow, if nothing bad happens until tomorrow. So, I will be waiting for him today. He was one of my closest friends back home. I wish he gets here safe, because loneliness is just killing me.
Last night, I was wandering around alone in the streets of Amman. Accompanied by a pack of cigarettes and a wounded heart.
I was thinking how big this jail is, and how small I feel it. Thats what Amman is for me; a big jail. Everytime I pass by diner, I remember how beautiful was the restaurants in "Gre'aat" and how delecious was the food on the lovely shoulders of the Tigris river. Each time I walk by a tree, I remember how nice was our garden with the palm trees and the orange trees. And each time I get to my apartment, I remember how my room back in Baghdad was larger than the whole apartment I live in here. And when I pass by a cafe, I keep remembering the lovely night we had gathering in cafes in Abu Nu'as street with the huge group of freinds I had.
This was not way back in the past, it was one war ago.
Its just impossible to go on like this..!!
Maybe its best for me to go back home and die there. At least I won't keep remembering.
Earlier today I received a nice video from a friend by email. It about Baghdad. With the lovely song from Hussien Al-Jasmy "Bahebek Wahashteni" (it means I love you and I miss you).
All of this was just one war ago.
Baghdad has recently witnessed the opening of the newest branch of Google, the leading company in Information Technologies.
I was honored to get a photo of the office:
The exact address was not announced for security reasons.
PS: The photo is of an Internet Cafe.buy youtube comments
Earlier today, I decided to write here. I don't really know what to write. So, I'm going to write whatever comes into my mind with no specific order.
Being away from Iraq has many good points, like the ability to breath. In Iraq, things have got to the point where you become scared of the air you breathe.
Things started falling down since the occupation. First, all attacks were directed toward the occupant, the American Troops. And this I can understand, because people seeing thier country being occupied by strangers will get angry, no matter what the motive of the occupants. And then, attacks started targeting people co-operating with the American troops. Afterwards, attacks targeted the Iraqi troops. Then, the government officials. And now, it has got to the point where no defined reason is needed for you to get killed. Your name might be a good enough reason for you to get killed. The neighbourhood you live in might be a reason. The bakery you buy bread from might be a reason. A street you passed thru, a taxi you have ridden, practically everything you do and don't do might be a reason to get you killed.
And sometimes being killed in Iraq is a part of luck. This is true. Because if you fall in the hands of one of the sacterian militias, you will wish that you were not even born. You might be drilled in the head and left to bleed you brain out to death. Or you might be hanged from hands to the ceiling, with your wrist cut small enough to let you bleed to death for few days. This not SAW IV I am talking about. This is actually taking place in Iraq right now.
Actually I don't know how to fell. I fell glad for being away from this. And I fell sad for being away from my country. I miss all the happy days back home. I miss my my family,college, my friends, and practically everything. Some times I just strongly wish that all this was just a dream. A bad bad dream. And I will wake up the very same Thursday, March 20th, 2003, and there is no war and non of this happened.
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