I was thinking of writing so many things: the sunshine that every Londoner is celebrating with their kids, family and friends. I wanted to write about the kids playing in parks happy that they have a sunny day they can enjoy outside. I wanted to write about my alienation in the university, my dreams of uncertain future and so many other things rushing into my mind. But this happened: three explosions in Baghdad that shattered off hundreds of dreams, plans, and lives. Three explosions that ended lives still taking their first steps toward the world. Three explosions ending smiles resisting poverty, challenging the stagnation of life. They happened, and all I could do was to shed few tears and then sleep on my comfortable bed, enjoying the Spring breeze coming from my open window. Life goes on, but only outside Iraq.
Iraqi woman running in panic searching for her son after the explosion
Little blooming flowers, instead of looking after them to grow and flourish, we pluck them off prematurely and leave them to face terrible end
This is what is happening in Baghdad, and then they say IS took the responsibility of what happened. Seriously? the responsibly is of those who pledged to keep us safe, the responsibility of those who took these people’s money to give them “better life”. They didn’t even give them better “end”! IS can pay for and recruit people to do these explosions, but did it pay to the government to neglect those living a terrible life, and die terrible death? Maybe this is the case. Who knows!?
I don't know if I can say more, but it is a reality that we have to live with every day. When the explosion ends, and survivors go home, we talk about what happened, and in a sense of resignation to our predestined fate, go on with our lives, unaware we could be next!