“BOOOOOM” was the first thing that woke me up this morning. Another BOOOM followed to make me feel that I wasn’t having a nightmare. It was not meant to kill or hurt; it was meant to remind me of the daily horror we should embrace everyday. I felt the BOOM telling me, “Wake up! Did you forget me? Sleeping will never let you forget me. I am always there.”
I barely opened my eyes. I was very tired. I couldn’t sleep well the whole night which is something very normal in Iraq. It was hot and impossible to endure.
When the explosion happened, I felt the ground shaking as I was sleeping on a matrice on the floor in the living room. I can’t sleep in my room on my bed anymore. There is no electricity to run the AC. I sleep in the living room because we can turn on an old fashion technique, called air cooler when we turn on the generator.
The explosion was followed by gunfire. It seemed there were clashes outside. “Ah! Clashes, nothing new,” I said within myself. I was sleeping near the window and was so reluctant to move. I didn’t even care. A bullet, two, or three break the window next to me?! Who cares? Even if I die, who cares? Hundreds and thousands are being killed. I am one of them. There is no difference. Maybe one day I join them unwillingly proudly in irrigating our land in our blood instead of water.
On the way to work, I was thinking of the two young men who were found shot dead in the neighborhood yesterday. My friend S told me that he saw a young man in his twenties lying dead in front of his neighbor’s house. The neighbor told S that as he was getting ready to take his children to school, he heard a sound seemed like opening a can of pepsi or something like that. As he went out, he saw the young man dead at the main gate of the house with his face covered in blood due to a shot in his forehead. Young men and women gathered to see the daily scene, which became like their breakfast. S said that it was the first time he’s ever seen a dead body. He was quiet the whole time we were together. He is the one whom I described once as having the best sense of humor among us.
The slain young man was skinny and putting on shabby clothes, S recalled the scene. He appeared to be a poor construction laborer. All people around his body agreed that he was a stranger and was brought and shot dead by a silencer in the neighborhood which hasn’t witnessed any presence of police or army for a long time.
Another young man’s dead body was also found shot dead on the high way alongside my neighborhood. People said he was shot in another place and his body was thrown there. His body was thrown where 14 young men were shot dead in the same area a month ago.
When the driver dropped me off at the place where I meet with my other colleague, shrapnel and broken glass of a previous car bomb was still at the sidewalks of the street as if they are like the “BOOM” reminding me and the others that “hey, I am surrounding you. I am always there wherever you go.” This time, I didn’t even care. I kept on walking until I met my colleague and went to work.
Once my mother recalled how she used to see and hear the news about life in Lebanon during the civil war. “I used to ask myself, how come people live , work and study while they are in a war?!” she recalled as we were having dinner. “Now, we are going through the same thing!” she said. “it is so sad that we go backwards not move forward,” I said.
Like Lebanon during the war, life goes on in Iraq. We are following the Iraqi saying “The wet doesn’t fear the rain”. We have nothing to be afraid of anymore. Life became like something we have to do and that’s it. People still go out, study, work, try to have fun, and struggle to stay alive for the sake of keeping themselves busy, maybe till they die by a car bomb or shootings.
When I left home this morning, the streets were full of people who were going to work and schools with full determination as if there were no clashes and bombs an hour earlier.
BOOOOOOM!!
I barely opened my eyes. I was very tired. I couldn’t sleep well the whole night which is something very normal in Iraq. It was hot and impossible to endure.
When the explosion happened, I felt the ground shaking as I was sleeping on a matrice on the floor in the living room. I can’t sleep in my room on my bed anymore. There is no electricity to run the AC. I sleep in the living room because we can turn on an old fashion technique, called air cooler when we turn on the generator.
The explosion was followed by gunfire. It seemed there were clashes outside. “Ah! Clashes, nothing new,” I said within myself. I was sleeping near the window and was so reluctant to move. I didn’t even care. A bullet, two, or three break the window next to me?! Who cares? Even if I die, who cares? Hundreds and thousands are being killed. I am one of them. There is no difference. Maybe one day I join them unwillingly proudly in irrigating our land in our blood instead of water.
On the way to work, I was thinking of the two young men who were found shot dead in the neighborhood yesterday. My friend S told me that he saw a young man in his twenties lying dead in front of his neighbor’s house. The neighbor told S that as he was getting ready to take his children to school, he heard a sound seemed like opening a can of pepsi or something like that. As he went out, he saw the young man dead at the main gate of the house with his face covered in blood due to a shot in his forehead. Young men and women gathered to see the daily scene, which became like their breakfast. S said that it was the first time he’s ever seen a dead body. He was quiet the whole time we were together. He is the one whom I described once as having the best sense of humor among us.
The slain young man was skinny and putting on shabby clothes, S recalled the scene. He appeared to be a poor construction laborer. All people around his body agreed that he was a stranger and was brought and shot dead by a silencer in the neighborhood which hasn’t witnessed any presence of police or army for a long time.
Another young man’s dead body was also found shot dead on the high way alongside my neighborhood. People said he was shot in another place and his body was thrown there. His body was thrown where 14 young men were shot dead in the same area a month ago.
When the driver dropped me off at the place where I meet with my other colleague, shrapnel and broken glass of a previous car bomb was still at the sidewalks of the street as if they are like the “BOOM” reminding me and the others that “hey, I am surrounding you. I am always there wherever you go.” This time, I didn’t even care. I kept on walking until I met my colleague and went to work.
Once my mother recalled how she used to see and hear the news about life in Lebanon during the civil war. “I used to ask myself, how come people live , work and study while they are in a war?!” she recalled as we were having dinner. “Now, we are going through the same thing!” she said. “it is so sad that we go backwards not move forward,” I said.
Like Lebanon during the war, life goes on in Iraq. We are following the Iraqi saying “The wet doesn’t fear the rain”. We have nothing to be afraid of anymore. Life became like something we have to do and that’s it. People still go out, study, work, try to have fun, and struggle to stay alive for the sake of keeping themselves busy, maybe till they die by a car bomb or shootings.
When I left home this morning, the streets were full of people who were going to work and schools with full determination as if there were no clashes and bombs an hour earlier.
BOOOOOOM!!
