معكم في الساعات نلتقي

وكانت الأيام تمر من بعدك مرور السحاب، حل صيف، فخريف، فشتاء، فربيع ومضى عام تلاه آخر ولم تكوني موجودة، كانت الساعات تجري والثواني تعدو معها ولم يكن للزمن حساب كذاك الذي كنت أعرفه حين كنت معك. ترى لماذا يحدث كل هذا؟ وهل يعني العمر شيئاً من دونك؟ كانت الساعات تدربك فوق صدري بكل قسوتها وكانت تلك طامتي الكبرى حين رحلت.

الأربعاء، 30 أبريل 2008

If These Walls Could Talk

Memories are overloaded with rotten prisons and latrines, and from my point of view despoliation of human freedom; however these Middle East prisons is different from those in west. In here, freedoms is not the only plundered issue, beside humanity, dignity and respect all together are lost amongst the crowd of sectarian conflict, social class, political elite and obscene. Some wonder how to use humanity while dealing with killers who did not think of when committing their crimes, pretending to have forgot that amongst nonsense that Iraq is going through there are many stories in which innocent people is paying the price for other crimes, as the history of Iraq and its people passes over the ages.
Yesterday, as part of my practical journalist job, I have visited one of the prison in Iraq , I was assigned for while many have slacken for nothing but deteriorating the situation in some parts of siege Baghdad, I myself was not as much brave as my journalistic sense have urged me looking for troubles in wreck of Human Rights in East.
My cameraman friend and I have decided to claim responsibility and head to visit that prison.
The moment we arrived, post two and a half hours barley parting Baghdad crowded routes, everything seemed idealistic more that ever, however, I was certain that beyond these smiling enlightened faces there lay concealed secret behind locked doors; there was a sign hanged on the gate at the doorway of the prison saying "The prisoners are to sunned on holidays and Fridays".
Inside wards some prisoners were standing near gates, comic scene gives impression to propaganda of what can be called paradox of prisoner's freedom.
While casting the movie "Correctional facility Shawshanic" Morgan Freeman have said "we are all prisoners here" mocking prisoner who always claim innocence, and what if he committed another crime separated from the one he was imprisoned of? And what if he was really innocent and was imprisoned? And what he was really criminal? How could we distinguish amongst them in all that crowed of prisoners, stories, lies, and facts that this country sank in? Various questions were pressing on my mind and I was as they both, prisoners and wardens, looking for answers.
Everyone was innocent as well as convicted; the difference was the speaker and his location to the jail door. When I asked them to speak on camera, everyone was talking about how wonderful the place is as if it is part of paradise, and they were accusing investigation committees saying: Unit X have bated us, they told us that they are to host us for five minutes, all the prisoners were imprisoned for malicious claims and the complainants have not attend or due to reporting against them which is newly called source while was called security agent in a past non retreating era. They all have the same testimony but the style was different. One of them was a sheikh of eighties years old have told me that he was asking his inmates to call God daily to put him to death instead of this torture, he made friendships with prisoners, and he told me that he is not afraid anymore and he is willing to confess without any fear, even if he is to be executed, because he is old enough and there is nothing to care about anymore, and that God have lat them down; hence while on camera his attitude was as simile as his inmates through accusing the investigation officer and discharged the prison administration and at the meantime while back scene they were talking about torturing parties held nightly, and the eighty years old sheikh have told me that he was beaten and kicked despite he was sick and they caused him tumors.
Another twenties years old Youngman have kept moving his finger between his full black scars arm and his mouth, pointing to me to keep secrecy; and when guards who come unexpectedly from time to time have left, the Youngman approached and told me that they turned his hand into cigarettes ashtray each time they wanted to interrogate him in the prison not the investigation committees. Another one was arrested as he returned from Jordan for killing and terrorism against a person who was killed while he was out of Iraq, as he claimed, and the worse thing is that he was he was imprisoned with his teenager son who was bony and his father. One of them handed me secretly a paper and told me that his wife's phone number is written and asked to convey his regards to her and to give her confidence about him, I toke the paper for humanitarian reason and decided to call and tell her that he is fine while obsessions have possessed my mind, what if this man was real terrorist and if he is sending code through words, the obsession was part of past curbing era in which many naives miss and prefer the alleged than Rice creative chaos.
Shortly, the prisoners have felt confident with me, gathered around and started joking and laughing which seems to be a good chance for them to smell the scent of person carrying some how the smell of illusive freedom laying down out of prison doors, however, as I told them that I'm not meeting my family much due to threatens, they started laughing saying they are all suffering problems. We chatted together, telling each other stories and jokes which were taking them away of prison. An hour or so passed, I have had sweet hot coffee, though I like it black no sugar, and I talked to them about the situation out doors. I recognized that the guards started fidgeting for my long stay, and once I stood up from the floor everyone was kissing and hugging me saying good bye and wishing to stay longer to amuse them as a joke. One of them told me that he would reserve a place next to him if I'm to return back, so I replied joking is the prison supplying mattress or I should bring my own and everyone giggled.
I left while noticing the officer mean glances who obviously wanted me to stay and spend my time on the floor with prisoners.
I admit that the prison, its clinic, bathrooms and toilets which were smelling urine, despite everything, is so clean in comparison to other places; but we were taught in school that the new, clean and good shape book might represent the laziness and not committing owner not reservation and preservation.
I left full of worry, as if I have not had enough worries yet, and a phrase that both prisoners and prison manager were saying each in his words: the Amnesty law might includes a terrorist who was arrested on scene holding explosives, but never pardon a thief who have stole a propane gas cylinder in a dark night. While prisoner have told me that 25 accused who were caught on scene while having explosives, weapons and ammunitions were released three post three days for including them of Amnesty law while they are still staying here at prison. The prison administration was extremely cooperative and nice in a strange way that kept me wondering is it the trust of the innocent who did not committee a sin or is it the executioner trust who trusted his victims fear of him.
Many of them, as they have said, had degrees and educated who were deprived from their study because of their imprisonment, many tales are beyond these tired and grim faces, afraid and worried, the walls were as silent as misery while we were leaving, however there was one wish that escorted me on my way back what if these walls speak, only for one time, if it would utter and tell me about the thing that I came for and have left without finding, which is the truth.
Many thanks to Babely and the River of Love who helped a lot to make this blog see the light and special thanks to my friend Rose Rasheed who translate this article.

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