Short Stories

On the way to the morgue to get some details about the incident of Al Nosoor Square, We met a security contractors’ convoy on the other side of the street. I told my colleague, the driver “well brother, beware and don’t do anything unexpected. Watch the guys carefully and watch the Iraqi army check point. We might be shot simply brother and Im sure you don’t want that. We want to cover the story about dead people but we don’t want to experience death. Remember brother, we have families and they are waiting for us. I never imaged that the safety of others means our fears from being killed for nothing. It’s a horrible feeling. It’s a nightmare that will never end soon.

I don’t know how to express my feelings when Leila my boss and I visited the man who lost his wife in the incident of Al Nosoor Square 13 days ago. I saw him fighting his tears and he didn’t allow them to run away from his eyes. I could feel the difficulty he faced when he was talking. I could feel that he wanted to choose the best words to show his love to the woman who lived almost 40 years with him. When my boss asked him about the love story that ended with their marriage, he was speechless and he told her addressing us all“its like your love and your love and your love”.

I wished I can do something for him but I couldn’t. He asked me for one thing. He said “you can bring me a copy for the newspaper that publishes my story, otherwise, I would feel that you cheated me”. I apologized and said that I cant do that because the agency I work for is in the USA but I promised him to bring him a copy fro the story from the internet. The man accepted both my apology and offer.

Yesterday, I got a copy from the net and I went to his house. His son saw was out. I told him that I want to see his father. I saw the man. He looked even weaker than three days ago. He lost part of his life. The visit was very short. I said “well sir, I just want to give you this and I gave him the copy of the story. I saw sad smile on his face. A smile said “Thank you for bringing the story of the death of my love.”

When I was coming to work yesterday and while I was near the bridge that leads directly to one of the gate of the International Zone, I saw a convoy of one of the security contractors. I saw those men who hided their faces pointing their machineguns towards everyone while driving their four wheel vehicles are moving fast. I accelerated my steps towards a close turn so if any shooting happen, I didn’t want to be in the fight field.

An imaginary battle field was drawn quickly in my mind. A sad vision was moving in my head. I saw my body bleeding. I saw my family crying and my wife weeping. OMG. I can’t see my lovely child again. Who would tell my family about my death? Ok. Back to reality, I’m a live and the convoy with the hidden faces guards had gone. Thanks Allah, nothing happened and I could see my family again. Only one question stayed in my mind. How can man kill innocent people so simply?

division after liberation

Four years ago the USA invaded Iraq on the pretext to liberate people of Iraq, at that time we believed them although we weren't occupied country but we were happy because we used to consider Saddam and his followers occupiers who exhausted Iraqi's fortunes to their own benefit and deprive Iraqi people from their rights.

Now we realize that in spite of everything we were happier with our former occupier, at least we were a unified country, suffer as ONE body, live together and love each other. We weren't hearing of dividing or separating even though Kurdistan enjoyed autonomy but we knew that Kurdistan is an indivisible part of Iraq. No one dare to think of separating it.

Today the liberator plans to divide the country into three Petty Countries?. Why? Because they can't protect it as one piece, they must divide it to control it? I wonder how Saddam governed it as one piece.

How we supported each other in sorrow and in joy?

What happened now?

What make us separate our neighborhoods from each other?? This Sunni neighborhood and this Shiite neighborhood..

These belong to Saudi and those belong to Iran - why??

We used to belong to Iraq all of us. Who will gain benefit from this division? Certainly not Iraqi people. Iraq today is occupied and divided country, occupied according to UN decision and divided according to US' decision. They took decision to divide Iraq into three areas Sunni, Shiite, and Kurd.

I wondering - they liberated us ????? Or they bought us?????? Oh God if they bought us that mean we are slaves now. When they talk and decide as if Iraq is private property not sovereign state.

A call from the past

My phone rang today and the caller was not some one i know... i was so sleepy and because of the bad connection i couldnt recoginize the caller..

Hours later we talked again and he is my friend Khalid from the college!! He is not dead (a big smile), i was so happy talk to him. it has been more than 3 years...

He made my day and i felt so good. he brought back a smile that lasted for the rest of the day.

I loved that 4 minutes call, a friend of mine i was thinking he is dead is alive. He lives in southern Baghdad and till now he is escaping death... and as he said "alive till now".

A wish to make

Today we toured through Al Yarmouk neighborhood in western Baghdad. The neighborhood famous bread baking shop Ahalina is open again since about two weeks for the first time in years.

Looking to that shop open again and other shops inside the neighborhood and the beautiful street that is called Arbaa Shwariaa (4 streets in Arabic) clean and with no signs of violence was delightful.

The improvement in several neighborhoods despite the fact it is not that big gave me some hope.

Off course I don’t have to tell you of the other stuff of the feeling that death can strike any second but I think being optimistic is better.

One day we will drive through Baghdad with no sniff of death, a wish to make before going to sleep.

Now we have Article 41

They crossed the high seas; they poured out their billions; they sacrificed their sons … to "liberate" Iraqis … but what we, the women of Iraq got, is article 41.

In 1959 the Iraqi government amended the Personal Status Law. Article 118 came into being as part of our constitution.

It gave the women of Iraq the most progressive of all Arab and Islamic women's rights legislation until this very day. No discrimination in salaries, no discrimination in uniforms, the separated Mums get to keep the home until the children are of age, and so many other items that made the female community of Iraq one of the most progressive female communities within the Arab, Islamic and regional states – from that time … until we got "liberated".

Now we have article 41.

In brief, it says go to your cleric and he will deal with whatever issues you have.

Girls had the choice either to don the Islamic hijab or walk abroad in safety, quaintly dressed in all manner of modern garments. It was a private matter that was entirely resolved inside the family and according to its own convictions, its own beliefs. Now it's not safe for a girl to step outside her home unless fully covered. How much more liberated can you get??

Girls used to be free to drive their cars in safety all over the city to all appropriate hours. Now it has suddenly become shameful for them to do so.

Why??

Why have we lost our rights?

For what have we been pushed back into the dark ages?

How can this be liberation if my daughter has fewer rights than I did at her age? If she has less control over her life than I did? Fewer choices than even her grandmother had?

Why have we been forgotten?? Neither our Parliament nor our Government cares. They are up there for their own interests

.

But what about the powers that crossed the high seas to liberate us?? They poured out their billions; they sacrificed their sons … to "liberate" us … but what we, the women of Iraq got, is article 41.

Go to your cleric – he is sure to solve all your issues.

Why should Iraq be in Guinness Book

I was thinking about this idea for a while and asking myself why my country is not in Guinness book of records yet! I mean we have more than one reason to be in that famous book. Well if you don’t believe, jus read the following. We (I mean Iraq) changed our governments six times in less than four years starting from the two US governors Jay Garner and Paul Bremer then the governing council when we had a new president each month ( 11 presidents in 9 months) then Allawi government then Jafari government and now we have Al Maliki government.

We have one of the biggest cabinets in the world. No, we have 36 ministries. I even cant count them but I know that we even have ministers who do nothing but traveling from one country to another and getting paid.

We have the largest number of US troops. We have more than 160 thousands all over Iraq. Im afraid that the continuous immigration of Iraqis will cause a problem to these troops because Im afraid that one day will come and the US troops would find the Iraqi houses empty. The will have that strange feeling of loneliness and they would ask their commanders “Can you tell me what are we doing here Sir?”

We seem to have the longest blast walls in the world. Some blast walls were built to protect other blast walls like the ones around the green zone which protect the houses of the officials in the green zone whose houses are surrounded by other blast walls. I’m sure if we take all the concrete blocs of the blast walls from all over Iraq and put them on the Iraqi borders, we would have enough concrete blocs to build a giant blast wall that circles Iraq. In fact we would help the neighbor countries and they would never think of building any walls like Saudi Arab does now. They would send a thank you letter. I’m afraid that one day I would have to pass through a blast wall to go from my bedroom to the kitchen.

We are the only country in the world that has daily explosions and more, we have a variety of these explosions. We have IEDs, car bombs, truck bombs, mortars and we have the suicide bombers. Iraqis feel their life is not really normal when a day ends without hearing a sound of an explosion.

We have the biggest number of the closed streets in the world. A round of ten minutes might need an hour because sometimes we have to circle and circle to go from street A to street B.

We have the biggest number of the check points. In some streets I pass through, there are three check points in less than a kilometer and the most painful feeling I ever have is when I pass through these check points. They work as traffic check points who look at the cars only without real checking and if they do check, they ask about the place where the driver lives.

I have more records but honestly I have to do another job to do. I wish the officials who are in charge of Guinness Book read my words and add my country to their book. Im sure Iraqi would be even more famous that it is now and we might receive tourist’s trips to see these seven wonders or records I mentioned, I’m sure there are people who are interested in such things.

Note:- anyone wants to visit Iraq to check these records should send me an email to tell him or her what she or he might need to stay alive (just kidding)

A Ramadan night

Yesterday I made my first Ramadan social visit to my cousin’s family. I went to his house few minutes before the sunset as it is too dangerous to go there after that time having mortars and snipers shifts begin in darkness time.

When I arrived, I saw the whole family was waiting for me happy to see me sharing them one Ramadan night. I finished my fasting at that day having a delicious meal (it doesn’t mean that my mother is not a good cook) with them at 7.30 p.m.after about fourteen hours of fasting. After that we had time to have lovely chat for about one hour having our old days back in the seventies and eighties with some hints of the bad situation we live in recently concerning the security side. At those days , we had life which was full with innocence and joy having no one nor anything to disturb and stop us. Deserts and cold drinks were served during that time.

My cousin’s family consists of husband and wife with three sons and a daughter, they are all lovely. The older is 20 years old young man, a young beautiful lady of 19, a tall boy of 16 and the younger boy is only 8 years old. I noticed something which I consider it a habit in some of the Iraqi houses. The family has two T.V. sets only as they have small family which means one for the parents and the other for the kids. Everything goes well during the day and when the power is on, but things change during night and especially when the power is off.

My cousin has a small generator which operates only one T.V set with two fans, a cooler and few lights. My cousin’s wife put the T.V set in the dining room which leads to the kitchen to have the chance to see the news with some Arab series during her usual work in the house. I saw her quarreled with the youngest boy telling him to keep the remote control off his hand keeping the T.V on the news channel instead of the cartoon channel which he wants . She told him so in a loud voice that its is not the time to watch these channels.

The other members from their side started boring of watching news instead of sport for the young boys and series for the only daughter .My cousin did his role to control the situation asking me of the best channels of mine to be watched as I was his guest having priority to choose. I really was confused because I do like sport channel and all English channels concerning news and movies. I mastered that situation saying that I’d prefer to get this chance teaching Abdul Allah ,the 16 years old, some lessons in grammar as he needs them urgently rather than I watch a channel that upset other members .

At that moment, I realized that I am lucky with my family members having no kids at home to have this kind of quarrel of who will control the remote control and which channel to be watched willy-nilly as we have a T.V set for each family member to put away the idea of such a war. Sorry for this word, but we as Iraqis had had enough of wars to have family members fighting each other on which channel to be watched.

My new key

One day when I was a child I read a famous Arabic story called Key of the City of Good Fortune. It is the story of a poor fisherman who caught a small fish in his net, but she bribed him to release her by giving him the Key of the City of Good Fortune that allowed him to live in eternal happiness. Often, I wished I possessed this key in order to live in such a City but when I grew up I realized that Cities no longer have Keys …. Yes, visas may be but not keys.

Yesterday when I returned home my brother gave me a key!

“This is your key .….

" “My key?! For what?”

“For the chains that connect barrels with each other located all round our bloc.” …

“Does that mean that we now live in a small, locked city with a key?!”

At this moment I smiled when I remembered the key of the City of Good Fortune … But it is a key of The City of Sorrow now. Our district is blocked because the terrorists' threats of attack.

Two months ago there was a huge explosion in my neighborhood that targeted the residential buildings in my neighborhood which resulted in many victims and destroyed many houses that made residents think of means to prevent the terrorists and car bombs from entering into their district as a kind of protection that the Iraqi Government couldn’t provide.

Now I look at The City of Good Fortune in a different way. It is not interesting any more … I think its residents had been threatened by terrorists - That made them lock their City!!!

Another night out

It is about time to go to a restaurant yesterday. Stopped a taxi and headed to one of the ordinary restaurants in central Baghdad in Sadoun street. I can not stop my self following what is going on in Baghdad’s neighborhoods so I started to ask the driver from what neighborhood he is? Which neighborhoods he doesn’t travel to as a taxi driver? and other questions… he was angry for having to stay indoors at night even in Ramadan… the Sunni taxi driver was afraid to criticize the militias that controlled a Sunni mosque near his house as he was afraid from me… minutes passed and he started to talk and talk… angry and pissed of at the government, militias and terrorists. I arrived to the restaurant to and he left heading back to his home.

So I crossed the street and a police car parking in front of the restaurant and one police man inside the car and the police radio loudly carried warnings as I entered the restaurants…

“Extreme caution, I repeat extreme caution…”

I couldn’t hear clearly but it was something about a white car suspected to be a car bomb…

I didn’t pay attention as the 2 policemen inside the restaurant didn’t…

Sat down and minutes later I started to have my meal... policemen started to arrive to the restaurant… 4 men … another two… and others.

Finished my meal and had a very nice cup of tea after it… I thought it is time to leave the place is getting more dangerous… especially when looking to all these policemen not caring for the report of the suspected car bomb… looking back to it was my self and another man the only two civilians in the place.

I left stopped a taxi and this time he is a Christian… I was so annoyed to the idea that he can not celebrate his faith as many taxi drivers used to do but he then told me no I am still… he removed a little peace of clothes that hid a portrait of virgin Mary… the man works about 14 hours in the day to spend most of what he earns to fuel and to the maintenance of the 1982 Passat Volkswagen so he can support his family…

Two check points were in alert searching white cars… two young men waived to the car to stop and I told him it is ok to stop and ask them where they want to go…

They asked to go to Ealam in south west Baghdad, he told them sorry and they wanted to discuss with him... he was so sharp saying to them it is impossible for me to go there…

The fake peace

It had been more than four years since I returned back to Iraq. Since the first day I came, the security situation deprived me from doing alto of things that I used to do before leaving Iraqi in 1996. One of the most important things I gave up is visiting my friends at night. When I was in college, I couldn't have time to visit my friends at day, so, I used to visit them at night. Coming back home at 1 or 2 am was something normal in my life. When I came back to Iraq after the collapse of the former regime, I didn't have the chance to visit my friends neither at day or night. I spend all the day working and when I go back home, I have only like 4 hours to spend with my family before going to bed but the most important reason is bad security situation. My neighborhood was unstable for about two years or more. There was sectarian killing, sectarian displacing and other kinds of troubles that I worked hard to avoid.

Two days ago and since Ramadan month started and as we Muslims say its the month of God which means peace must be everywhere, I decided to break to visit my best friend at night especially after the (peace) that my neighborhood enjoys. Don't misunderstand me when I say peace because I'm not talking about real peace that all Iraqis pray to have. The peace we have in my neighborhood is a fake one came as a result of killing and displacing all the families from a specific sect not because the US army or the Iraqi army could control the area, this is the bitter fact I hate to but I must admit.

Now, all the families in my neighborhood are from one sect including a big number of families who were displaced by the other sect from other neighborhoods of Baghdad. Anyway, I left home about 10,30 pm and I arrived my friend's home after 10 minutes or less. While I was walking, I saw some young men gathering near one of the houses and smoking Shisha, also I saw some children playing in the dark streets. When I reached my friend's house, I found him sitting with some young men  near his house and this is a habit of the Iraqi men especially in Ramadan, they don't like to stay home at all and prefer to meet their friends out. We had a conversation for about an hour, he reminded me with our friends who were either killed or forced to leave the area and then he started talking about the problems that his family and the original families in his street face with the new comers and how they miss their old neighbors.

After more than an hour, I returned back home. Although I didn't have the same feeling I used to have 12 years ago but I hope once I would have it again when all the troubles that surround my country vanish.

One thousand and one nights

Me and my colleague Hussein decided yesterday to have our breakfast in a restaurant, after a long day of work and fasting. We left around 7 p.m. about 25 min before the breakfast time. No taxis, we were laughing out loud of the possibility we would not go to a restaurant, about 7:20 a speeding car stopped a distance away and offered us a ride he dropped us at the nearest point, we thanked him and he left.

We walked to the restaurant and we were laughing and laughing as Hussein told jokes about how we would stop a car to give us a ride… finally we are at the restaurant, and we enjoyed a good meal (with more than 50 dollars it should be a good meal).

Four tables were only taken, and as we left the restaurant 2 men arrived.

We are out in the dark street, around 8:10 p.m., except for three parking cars in front of the restaurants, there was nothing… we walked to another main street… after also few minutes we were lucky and a taxi driver stopped… the driver said he was late today and he never gets that late (we were lucky)…

Empty and dark streets at 8 p.m. in one of the busiest areas in Baghdad or used to be!!… Huseein said this was his first time to go out in night in two years…

Two days ago, I wanted to have breakfast in a restaurant also for old times memories; me and my friends used to have breakfast in Ramadan in that restaurant several times, but it was closed. I went to the only opened restaurant in that area; in a block were many restaurants and bakery shops used to be opened there was only one restaurant still opened and no more than 4 customers (including my self) showed up for breakfast.

Off course no need to tell you how I found a taxi, I was lucky also to flee the place as sounds of bullets came closer and closer while I was waiting in the dark and empty street.

I think One thousand and one nights must be changed to something else; like one thousand and one car bombs or kidnappings or maybe terrorist groups or militias. It will make more sense for many people who don’t want to risk going out during night and prefer to stay in doors. For my self, I will not from now on. I will be out most of this week nights and I think all Baghdad’s people must do the same or at least to start thinking about that otherwise we will never have our lives again and at least to have our One Thousand and one nights back.

Ramadan Kareem to you all.

check points

The talk about the fake check point started in Iraqi about two years ago. I was listening to some friends talking about seeing these check points and they avoided these check points. After two years, we still have fake check points. Those check points are official ones but I like to call them fake ones for one main reason, they don’t do any real job.

When I come to work, I have to pass through 7 check points. Each check point occupies half of the width of each street. They allow only very narrow space which is enough only for one car to pass through in order to control the movement of the cars. This is the only way they can do to check the cars one by one but I haven’t really seen any check point doing its job and the only think they do is taking a look to the car and the drivers or as a maximum, some questions like “where did you come from and where are you going to?”.

I always keep asking myself about the reason that prevents the government from providing these check points with the needed devices to discover the car bombs or the IEDs unless if these soldiers have their own special abilities that help them to discover the explosives like an infra red eyes or an echo devices in their heads. In Fact, I always feel afraid of the traffic jam caused by these check points and the idea of being killed in on e of the explosions caused by the crowded check points never leaves my mind.

I hope the Iraqi government can find a solution to avoid this problem because we have enough problems and difficulties.

Iraqi in Iraq

Sitting to a dinner of kabab, hot khubz (Iraqi flat bread) and other niceties, the conversation was flowing. Our rotating reporter, Chris (a very nice chap of only 23) was showing us the lovely old Iraqi silver pendent and bracelet he had bought his mum from a shop in the al-Rasheed Hotel, which is inside the green zone. We congratulated him on his excellent taste. He had bought other things as well. A lovely painting of a local scene, some coins and notes used during Saddam's era, some Iraqi medals and an Iraqi flag. We were commending him on his good sense of value too - I was afraid that it would be a rip-off, but  happily it wasn't.

My son is a coin collector and was quite impressed and said out loud, "Mum , let's go down to the al-Rasheed tomorrow (my day off) and look up this place, the items are good and the prices are right. Let's Mum!"

"I'm sorry baby, we can't. I will take you to another shop near al-Mutanebbi, you might find similar things."

"Why, Mum? Why can't I go to this shop?"

"Because it's in the green zone baby, and you're Iraqi."

I could see the words forming on his lips; I could hear them ring in my head.

His rebellious look locked with my own sadly understanding eyes - but he just looked away, defeated.

its vague

Sometimes I just can find an explanation for the behaviors of both the Iraqi and American security forces and I wonder whether they themselves have any explanation.

Yesterday afternoon, a US convoy stopped in the main street of my neighborhood. One of the soldiers with the help of one of his colleagues tore a poster including the picture of Muqtada Al Sadr and some young men from the neighborhood who were killed by gunmen. I was there by chance and saw all the scene. No said anything but I could see anger in the eyes of people. After the US troops left, the young men started cursing the US army an d each one gave his own point of view about the behavior. One young man said "Its a victory for us, the US army cant even stand looking to Muqtada's picture and that means they are so afraid of him". Another man said in a very calm way addressing the others "why are you so angry guys? its not a problem, we will put a new poster but it will be bigger". the crowd left about 10 minutes later.

I dont know what to say about this behavior but I wonder if there are any positive results for it

to arrive or not to arrive, that is the question

It was about 7,30 When I left my neighborhood coming towards the office. About 25 minutes later, we were in Alawi neighborhood and again, the main street was blocked by the Iraqi secuirty forces. Dont ask me why because maybe even the soldiers don't know why, they just implement without asking. Anyway, the driver of the minibus said "guys, I'm going to go through Salhiyah because as you see, we cant go through Alawi." Everybody accepted the bitter reality because we had no other choice.

We went through the street leading to Salhiyah neighborhood but again, the driver decided to change the street but this time, we had to pass through one of the hot spots in Baghdad, through Haifa Street. when the driver said that he would pass through Haifa Street, everybody objected. one of the men in the bus said "Do you plan to kill us man? what is wrong with you?" the driver said in a very calm way "I have no other choice because passing through Salhiyah would take an hour or more, beside, you can see the cars coming from the street, Its safe." At that time, I don't know why I remembered the words of Hamlet "to be or not to be, that is the question" but it came like "to arrive the office or not to arrive, that is the question.

Moving through a kind of deserted street doesn't give any kind of positive feelings. seeing the marks of the bullets on the walls of the building in the street gives a clear idea about the heavy fights happened in it and passing through three check points within a very short distance is another evidence that the street is not really safe. Thanks Allah that we could do it an d I was about 30 minutes late

I wonder when Iraqis can move freely again in their capital and that would be the question of Hamlet if he ever would have another life to live it in Baghdad.

Parliament resumes

Again the debastes, again the discussions, again and again.

Today I met my dearest friend, my cousin; she was very pale and tired.

Ten days ago she finished her day's work at her pharmacy; locked up and stepped out to find her husband waiting for her with the girls, Dima, 7; and Tara, 4. They drove off towards their home in Khadhraa a little after six in the evening. Reaching the entrance to their neighbourhood, they found American forces blocking the road.

There's nothing for it but to wait.

And wait they did – until ten thirty when her husband approached the troops on foot trying to convince them that it was getting rather late –We need to get home, guys – curfew is coming on!

They were told to use a different route.

So they and three other cars also waiting simply turned around and went searching for another route. 95% of the roads inside the neighbourhood were blocked. It was a real task.

At last they reached the last corner but one. Turning that corner almost cost them their lives.

"We turned the corner and all of a sudden all hell broke loose. We were a target! WHY?? What is happening?? We ducked as far as we could, but the fire wouldn't stop! Who was shooing at us??

"A thin scream! Oh my God!

TARA!!

"She went limp in my arms! I started screaming and screaming. My husband tried to move and was shot too. Twice. But he didn't pass out.

"I opened the door.

Cradling Tara in my arms and shouting for Dima to stick by me, I crawled out of the car, and continued to crawl the few meters to the gate of the nearest house. Too terrified to raise my voice, I banged and banged with all my strength – and miraculously – the door opened.

"Arms came to my assistance, we were half dragged into the house, I was gesturing to them that my husband was in need of help in the car – but I couldn't form the words. Pointing to the car, incoherent sounds came from my mouth, but they seemed to understand that I was telling them that there was someone else in the car. But they daren't leave the safety of their home. We looked into each other's faces, not knowing what to do. The firing continued."Tara was shot in the hand, blood was flowing – I couldn't cope – I was losing it. Dima was unharmed, thank God!

"A few minutes passed.

"Miraculously, I saw my husband's twisted face peep through the half open gate at ground level! They ran to him and pulled him in. We found that he was shot in the shoulder and in the arm. He was loosing blood fast.

"I tried to stop the bleeding but wasn't skilled enough to do it. I was losing them – they were dying in front of my eyes!

"Suddenly the door was kicked in. American troops poured into the house, shouting "What the ……

"They came to a stunned stop.

"Looking at us – at the blood – at my broken family..

They said they were sorry. They had set up an ambush for somebody and we had walked into it. "They thought he had taken refuge in this house, and followed him in.

"They said they were sorry, again and again. Asked if we needed first aid; help in bandaging the wounds; asked if we wanted to be taken to hospital.

"Why did you shoot at us?? We had our headlights turned off as you asked, and the dome lights turned on

Why did you shoot?? Couldn't you see it was a family in the car?? Couldn't you see?

"Just make way for us to get to our home, please.&

"And they did.

"My daughter lost two fingers. My husband has a punctured lung and a steel sliver embedded in his arm, still to be seen to.

Parliament resumes its sessions tomorrow to discuss important things like Oil Law, maybe, or new ministers.

Security in Baghdad is better.

Much better.

The trip to buy my treasure

Let me tell you one of my daily stories in the new Democratic Iraq; stories that never happen anywhere accept here.

Iraq the Wonderland …… believe me every thing here's outstanding.

Our days are different from yours. What we see or heard is unique on this planet because we have a different kind of democracy; it's specially made for Iraqi people. Sorry for long introduction …

Let me tell you my short story.

On that unique day….  I was at work when my sister called me to say that I should be more organizing and save some money for the next days that look dark under Freedom tent and as you know or not!!!! Arabs buys gold as a favorite way to save money

“ Gold is ornament and treasure” is what we say in Iraq.

Anyhow my sister's argument made me obey her and go to hottest area in Baghdad to buy "my treasure".

When we arrived to the market we found it surrounded by concrete wall. I tried to find garage to park car on it but there wasn’t so I ask the soldier “Where can I park car to get my shopping?” …..

“You can park it beside the wall” the kind soldier replied.

Till now it is look easy journey in land of difficulties, isn’t it?

So we leave car in strategic position, we delighted when we saw the market crowded with shoppers just like old day. I say “oh God this ugly wall made people feel safe… that wonderful”. Crowd = security, this a new equation in Democratic Iraq.

Getting that treasure took me thirty minutes, it was almost nightfall. Thus we speed our steps to return home before flag fall down (we say that when security be absent)

But now the sight is quite different. The shoppers and cars disappear; the stores owners hurry to close, the road was close with two Hummers and a lot of soldiers deployed here and there and some of them ware directing their weapon against a threat, a target … God! What's the matter? Where is every body?

Suddenly I saw a head of someone hiding behind the concrete wall “Hey girls don’t walk there, come to hide here” the hiding man said

“What? ……. Why we should hide? What is wrong?” I wondered

“It's a car bomb” a scared voice yelled and hided again.

“Where is it?” ……. “There” he was pointing to my car “Oh this is mine!!”

The threat, the target was my car!! They thought my car a car bomb!

Now I understand … Because of me they declare emergency case! …

Oh God what happened? I just park my car! It happens everywhere in the world!

I felt that I unintentionally caused an additional crisis to the poor Iraqis. Until this day, the policemen look at me angrily as I pass by them.

Really; I’m so sorry - I forgot that I’m living in the New Iraq and parked my car beside the wall.