By the time Iraqis were rejoicing the victorious winning of the Asian Cup, Sameer’s mother, my cousin, was in her worst shapes. She sat grieving at the Baghdad Morgue waiting for the curfew to be lifted to take her teenage son to burial.
A 17-year-old teenager, Sameer died doing a noble thing, helping his wounded neighbors and friends to ambulances after a massive car bomb ripped off most of the buildings surrounding his house in Karrada, wounding and killing most of his neighbors and friends, and leaving a three-story apartment building on fire.
My father received the news after one in the morning. Abbas, my other cousin and the uncle of the slain Sameer, sobbed on the phone, telling my father how it all happened.
It was a normal Thursday afternoon in Karrada, a neighborhood in
Then, a roar. Gunshot and sirens coming from the Iraqi troops accompanied by the Americans. People grew more scared expecting another car bomb would target both American and Iraqi troops and the civilians who were helping evacuate the 130 wounded. As they arrived, both armies were doing nothing except cordoning the area. Angry relatives of the dead and the wounded started screaming at the troops asking them to leave, accusing them for being the indirect reason that led the country to this state of chaos and mayhem. The
In the middle of the chaos and the pools of blood and the plumes of smoke, Sameer was carried by another neighbor not to the hospital, but to the morgue instead. On his way there, he called my cousin and her husband telling them how a small bullet took their son’s life. Grief took his way to their small house.
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Sameer was a very friendly young man. His parents struggled painfully to make him continue studying at school. Like many other families who suffered during the 12-year embargo, his family was categorized as the worst. His father, a government employee received a $1.5 per month salary, which was not enough to buy eggs. His mother quit her job and became a tailor to earn more money to help her husband afford living. Life was harder than everyone expected. Money wasn’t enough at all. They had to sell their house and everything in it, except the carpet where the five family members slept on. For years, they almost had nothing decent to eat. Even the food ration which was agreed between Saddam and the United Nations, was not enough for a big family like theirs. Sameer and his three brothers had to quit school. They worked for years as clerks, waiters and many other jobs where they were able to restore what the family sold. They also saved some money to school. Returning back to school was a very happy event in the family. The boys graduated from colleges, except Sameer who was only 17 before he died. It was only one year a head of him to enter college.
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As I was watching the soccer match live on the internet, I couldn't but think of Sameer and his grieving mother. He was a huge fan of soccer. I thought of him when our team won, and never forgot how his body was still at the morgue when the referee announced the end of the game.
Goodbye Sameer. We’ll miss you a lot. We’ll miss your smiling face when always won backgammon. We’ll always remember your earlier struggle and your heroism that will pave the road of martyrdom and greatness of all Iraqis who sacrificed themselves to help our country.
