We Are Living in Hell
From Raghda, a 14 year old girl in Baghdad.
Hello,
It has been along time since I posted my last subject, the situation here do not help to write at all, the temperature is very high, no electricity, we have only 4 hours of electrical power in the 24 hours of the day, no security, no water, no peace and there are always explosions and bombcars, as an example, four days ago a big explosion happened near my house, it was done by abombcar, this bombcar cost people life's, broke windows, and brought fear.
Our windows were broken and so are windows of most houses in the neighborhood but thanks to God we are all fine but who knows in the next time we may get hurt, after the explosion we cleaned the broken windows so no one get hurt from it and so did our neighbors and some of them were out side wondering what happened, we were expecting that the American soldiers will search our house and the other houses in the neighborhood, but they didn't and that is weird because this is not the first explosion happened here, any way tings went back to normal few hours later but people died, Two of those who died were children about 10 years of age and they use to bring us fuel for our electrical generator...
Life, or something like it
Najma returns from a 15 day trip to Syria.
People in Syria are so interested in what is happening in Iraq, and they respect Iraqis inspite of everything the Iraqi government in saying about Syrians to the media. A shop keeper asked us once in Aleppo I think "Was it better when Saddam was ruling? Or is it better now when the bastards invaded you?"; Syrians hate the American policy, and scaring and threatening them isn't going to change the way they think about it to a better one!
It made me sad when a Syrian soldier at the borders between Amman and Syria asked us: "Why do you say such things about us on TV? More than a million Iraqis are living respectfully in Syria and you say bad things about us nevertheless?".. Dad answered: "It's not us who say it, it's the government, led by America.. It's a plan to divide us".
In my journey outside Iraq, I saw Italians, Americans, Kuwaitis, Iranians, Saudis, Syrians, Jordanians, Egyptians, Chinese and Filipinos.. Those I'm sure about, don't know about the others. All in Syria, then again in Jordan, so, no one should dare and say that Syria now is like Iraq when Saddam was ruling.. Syria has satellites, mobile phone and Internet connections.. They express themselves freely on TV, they dare to criticize the government when talking with us.. They might think they're living badly, you might think they're living badly, but you haven't lived under Saddam, have you?
One Year On
A woman with a relief organization reflects on her first year in Baghdad
I will tell you something though. Construction is taking place. Im right in the middle of it and I know for a fact that hospitals, clinics, schools, police stations, roads, ministries all over Iraq are being renovated or constructed. Yes I cannot deny it, cause I see the pictures at work everyday. But ask the average Iraqi, how do these things play in his everyday life, he will tell you its meaningless. The average Iraqi wants safety, wants electricity, wants water. The average Iraqi wants a government that cares, that does something for the people and not just sit and argue about federalism, name of country, etc....
Believe me, I see young guys at work, in their early twenties desperate to leave. They ask me or HUBBY, please get us out of here, please arent there opportunities where you live. At their age, guys in other countries go out, have fun, have dreams, have hopes, have ambitions. All you see in Iraq is sadness. They work their asses off inorder to support their families. They come into work everyday risking their lives just to provide for their parents or siblings. Do not tell me you want to hear good news, cuz from an Iraqi perspective there isnt any. Someone also accused me of saying Saddam days were better. No matter how bad things get, no matter how horrible the situation is, I will NEVER EVER say that Saddam days were better.
Sickness
A soldier's patrol through a shanty town
As we were leaving the town we ran into a scrap of a child with a spine as bent as an archers bow. His atrophied legs were crumpled beneath him in a wretched pile and he was lurching around on his calloused hands like something from a horror movie. As he clambered over to our patrol we noticed his mother standing at a distance and we waved her over to find out what was going on. Our interpreter talked with the mother for a moment and then told us the child had spinal bifida. As we talked with the mother the child just sat there at our feet, looking up at us through vacant eyes. It was a little unsettling standing there over him because he was in such wretched condition. Back home disease is something foreign and unwelcome, something walled off in an antiseptic hospital room. But out here there are no such barriers. Here disease is a wraithlike predator endlessly consuming lives. When you see these ailments up close and personal some small and bitter part of you just wants to flee.
The mother wanted to know if we could help her son, and as much as we wanted to help there was little that we could do. Once the interpreter conveyed the message she looked down for a long moment and then asked if we could spare any food or water. As soon as she asked two of our soldiers walked to our HMMWVs and pulled out a dozen Halal Meals and a box of bottled water. As she watched the soldiers unload the supplies she sat there in utter disbelief. For a moment I though the woman was going to collapse, she stood there like a tree swaying in the wind, her lip trembling and eyes focused on the vehicles. Then she recovered with a sudden start, and sped off towards her hovel. She moved with amazing speed, pausing only to make sure the soldiers were still following her. It was as if she thought our offering was a mirage that would fade from sight if she didn’t hurry. The soldiers followed her with the heavy boxes in tow and in the rush everyone seemed to miss the little boy dragging himself through the rubble. One of the troops heard him wail and immediately turned and walked towards the collapsed figure. When he reached the boy he bent over and gently picked up the boy, as if he were picking up an infant. Picking up that boy was one of the most compassionate acts I have seen here in Baghdad. In that instant the soldier looked past the disease, past the disfigurement, past the smell of rot and waste and noticed only what truly mattered. That the was a little boy who was scared and wanted to return to his mothers side. As he carried the boy to his home he stopped sobbing and started humming a tune. As they turned the corner to her home I could still hear him humming.
Racism
A soldier reflects after meeting a racist veteran
With that being said, let me tell you about an organization that does not care about the color of your skin or religious belief. It’s called the military. In the Army, you do not see the same racial problems. Black, Hispanic, white, purple… it doesn’t matter. You’re a team of green.
I recall one squad I spent time with. The squad leader was Samoan. One team leader was white, the other was black. One soldier was Indian, another was Hispanic and the SAW gunner was of Middle Eastern descent. When it came time for patrols and raids, these soldiers didn’t care about one another’s ethnicity. They had a job to do; their lives depended on one another. In the end, they became brothers. They would share music and joke about each other’s mom.
In fact, the Army does not tolerate prejudice. If a soldier speaks a racial slur, he can lose rank and half his pay. If the behavior continues, he or she is Court Martialed.
A 13 year old girl in Mosul confronts poverty
I anguished when I hear stories like these , my mom always told me that I can't change the world , there is a lot of people how don’t care about others , I can't fix every thing there is a lot of depravity in the world , she is right . I can't, but I can do something help these people.
In the orphan's asylum the condition is very bad & deplorable , the children there are in such seamy place , my grandma used to go to the orphan's asylum every year before the (eed) fiesta to get their size to bring them new clothes for eed , last year when she came back I saw her crying , I asked her for the reason , she told me that they don’t have heater & the weather was so cold , they don’t have healthy food , they don’t have even toys to play , no one care about these few girls & boys , in the next day we went to the market & bring them whet they need , they were so happy to have new & beautiful clothes , we don’t give the money to the administrative , because they don’t bring the children what they need , & bought heaters , healthy food , fans , clothes , or toys , they take the money & don’t spend it on the children , so my grandma used to go & buy these thing herself to make sure this money spent on these children ,these children don’t have parents & that make them sad & lonely , but if we bring them what they need they will be happy & forget there loneliness & may be in the future they will be doctors , engineers , teachers , may be.
After all of that , I hope I didn’t upset you .
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