N called home to Baghdad today. It was a hard call. There was good news and bad, and many tears.
The family is 'fine'. That's the euphemism for 'not so bad considering the hell we live in'. That was the end of the good news.
Tens of families have moved into the neighborhood from Shi'a areas. The fighting is so intense in some Shi'a neighborhoods that families are fleeing with only the clothes on their backs and maybe a bag or two of precious items. It is now swarming with different militias and all who live there live in fear. Many homeless families have arrived in the past few days. This neighborhood is still mixed and many flee there knowing that they will receive help from the people. Many more than usual came these last few days.
Because N has no chance of returning in the near future her brother asked, "Do you mind if I give your clothes to these families?"
"No."
"Good, because I already did this. One of the families has four young girls. I gave them your jackets, skirts, house clothes, and other things. You had many sheets so I gave them sheets, too."
"It's OK. What else? Tell me. You sound upset. What is wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing. We are OK," he answered, but N could hear his wife in the background telling him not to tell N other news because it would be upsetting.
"Brother, you must tell me."
"OK, but we are OK," and then he told her of the day's events.
N's niece is in the 3rd grade and today they had exams. the little ones take the tests in the morning and the older ones go later. During the morning exam for 6-8 year old students a street bomb exploded right outside her school. Brother heard the explosion and asked people in the street about where it was. Someone told him the school was bombed. You cannot imagine his fear. He ran and, with other parents and families, arrived at the school minutes after the bomb. Smoke and dust and cries and shouts filled the air. People were shouting and searching for their children. The scene was chaos. Students were fleeing in panic; some trampling each other. Many were stepped on. There were many cuts from flying glass but no one died. Students had broken arms and hands from the trampling.
He saw his 8 year old daughter. She was covered in dust and bleeding from her mouth. Her tooth was broken, that's all. That's all except for the psychological damage she and the others suffered. Can you imagine what this will do to them?
N begged her brother not to let the children play in the street any more. She told him of the Iraqirabita article that talked of their neighborhood being one that should expect violence soon.
"Why this bombing? Why bomb the children? What can I do? Should we live like prisoners in our house?"
The connection was cut and the call ended. The tears still flow.
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