Friday, June 04, 2004


Healing Iraq

Yesterday, I stumbled on this blog, written by an Iraqi which had a few touching and revealing passages.

Healing Iraq

So how am I supposed to explain Iraqis to other people, when I sometimes, even as an Iraqi, don't claim to quite understand them myself. I wasn't raised as an Iraqi, actually until the age of 8 I was a typical British child. My parents (and I hold that against them) never taught me a word of Arabic or anything about my country or religion when we were living in the UK. I used to listen to them converse in this weird language and shake my head. However I remember having an overwhelming nostalgic desire to go to this strange place called Iraq which was supposed to be my homeland. When we returned I experienced symptoms of shock. Everything was so different. I was made fun of at school and by relatives my age because of my broken Arabic. But I never complained, I wanted to blend in and make myself belong to this society. So I adapted slowly until I became what I am now; A full-fledged Iraqi, but still not quite a regular Iraqi. Regular Iraqis suffered daily for decades. I never really suffered. So it's maybe not my place to talk for Iraqis.

If you were here now you would almost feel Iraq bleeding from its wounds. You would almost see the palm trees weeping and shedding tears. You would almost hear the two rivers murmuring and moaning in pain. You would almost hear Baghdad wailing and crying for help. You would smell the tension in the air which even rain is unable to wash away. You would sense the years of deprivation and negligence in its soil. Who is trying to steal the smile from its weary face? Who is going to heal Iraq? Who is going to help it stand on its feet? And is this going to be the end to all its sorrows or is there more?

Despite all of the above I am proud to belong to this ancient land. A few days ago I noticed somewhere on the walls of Baghdad a slogan that said 'Raise your head high, you are Iraqi', so I did. Whatever people may think of me or my nation I will sneer at them and say 'I am Iraqi'. However there were times when I hated Iraq with all my heart. There were times when I was ashamed to be associated with it or its people. There were times when I just wanted to pack and leave. There were times when I just didn't care about whatever happened to Iraq. And there were other times when I wept with my face in my hands and begged Iraq to forgive me for my weakness and selfishness.


# posted by zeyad : 1/27/2004 08:57:31 PM

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Listed on Blogwise