help me collecting the ashes
Why the woman I was? I managed to survive the invasion and 21 days and nights with severe bombing.. On April 9- 03, when the era of so called "NEW IRAQ" began I felt not belonging more to this place that once was Iraq. Since then I forgot the woman I was before the occupation. I tried to remember me but I failed.
Defiantly I am not the woman I was..
Then, before the invasion; I used to tell myself and the friends," I could not bear seeing Baghdad wounded again; I will die if her face going to be distorted again". Yet I am surviving till now. Am a tough woman or another woman?
I have no answer except I am now like the Iraq that I am keeping in my heart; we both are strangers in our homes. As my brother says," I am watching Iraq on the TV as if I am watching a place I do not know!" it is painful to say so and to feel so.. Still we, the Iraqis, used to live with the pain, any pain.
Pain and ashes are part of our history. There is an old story goes back to Ur, about 4400 BC says," The queen mother began crying when the Persians destroyed Uruk for the third time. Her son, the king, came and kissed her hands saying that Uruk was destroyed twice before and they managed rebuild it again from the ashes". Yet, the Americans leave no ashes but pain.
Before creating this blog; I felt no enough place in my heart for new wounds. I need to be speak; with whom? I lost tens of friends and relatives because of the wars and the sanctions. I marked more than 70 names in my phone book with red hearts. The marked names died, left Iraq or isolated themselves.
I need to have a dream.. A dream needs miracle in Iraq. Dying in Iraq is easier that dreaming.
Now I am writing; not only to have friends but to show you the reality of the "NEW IRAQ". May be one day you can help restoring my country that I knew; help me in collecting the ashes to build a dream.
Defiantly I am not the woman I was..
Then, before the invasion; I used to tell myself and the friends," I could not bear seeing Baghdad wounded again; I will die if her face going to be distorted again". Yet I am surviving till now. Am a tough woman or another woman?
I have no answer except I am now like the Iraq that I am keeping in my heart; we both are strangers in our homes. As my brother says," I am watching Iraq on the TV as if I am watching a place I do not know!" it is painful to say so and to feel so.. Still we, the Iraqis, used to live with the pain, any pain.
Pain and ashes are part of our history. There is an old story goes back to Ur, about 4400 BC says," The queen mother began crying when the Persians destroyed Uruk for the third time. Her son, the king, came and kissed her hands saying that Uruk was destroyed twice before and they managed rebuild it again from the ashes". Yet, the Americans leave no ashes but pain.
Before creating this blog; I felt no enough place in my heart for new wounds. I need to be speak; with whom? I lost tens of friends and relatives because of the wars and the sanctions. I marked more than 70 names in my phone book with red hearts. The marked names died, left Iraq or isolated themselves.
I need to have a dream.. A dream needs miracle in Iraq. Dying in Iraq is easier that dreaming.
Now I am writing; not only to have friends but to show you the reality of the "NEW IRAQ". May be one day you can help restoring my country that I knew; help me in collecting the ashes to build a dream.