Und, es setzt sich jemand für das Leben dieser Frauen ein, für etwas, das nicht einmal bei uns selbstverständlich ist, - dafür, dass diese Frauen wieder aufgenommen werden in ein normales Leben, von ihren Angehörigen, vom Ehemann...
Dort, wo das alles geschieht, ist so Vieles ungleich schwieriger als bei uns, und vielen Frauen dort wird genau dieses Schwere, oft Unlebbare zugefügt durch eben jene Soldaten aus unseren Breitengraden, die doch anders sein sollten - gesitteter, zivilisierter. Doch immer noch ist der Krieg etwas, das Menschen zu Barbaren verkommen läßt, die andere dem Tod preisgeben, ohne auch nur einen Gedanken daran zu verschwenden.
Es ist nur widerlich, und die Berichte sind hart, sind voll Zorn auf jene, die den Menschen dort das alles gebracht haben, und die es den Frauen antun.
When Death becomes Love during Wartime
Hussein Anwar
February 8, 2010
"They all left...and they left nothing after them except their good memories and their clothes."
This post is not what you think, I am not going to make a romantic play out here, it is not about the love we all hear about between man and woman, not about a romantic relationship, this field does not interest me when it comes to writing, so open your eyes for another type of love that you have never ever heard of before.
Ever since I began hearing about the raping of Iraqi women in prison, I started to think about the aftermath these women will have for the rest of their lives, I dig too deep trying to figure out what sort of a life they will live and who will embrace them and take them in.
No matter what I think, how I thought, and no matter how creative my imagination is...I will not reach or feel not even a small portion of what these Innocent women felt during prison, feel after prison, live and suffer for the rest of their lives simply because what happened to them did not happen to me.
Even if I put myself in their shoes, this is not enough, not even close. In fact it is Zero, Zilch, Nada...
There is a story perhaps common among the rape cases that happened in American and Persian prisons in Iraq, but there is this very specific detail in this story that never left my mind ever since I read it. Believe it or not...this specific detail haunts my head every single day, in the car, in my room, with my son, in the garden, at the dinner table...etc
I will try to give you the story as short as possible...
There is this young married Iraqi lady, who was beaten and raped 17 times before the eyes of her husband while he was tied to the wall, after raping her for 17 times she fell unconscious for 27 hours (as I remember), they threw her in prison with a cell mate, also an Iraqi woman.
When she woke up, she did not wish to see her husband again because she couldn't look in his eyes again, she wanted to die and death is all she wanted, she begged her cell mate to assist her with suicide...and her cell mate did by cutting the veins on her wrist.
You can read the story here
The specific detail that I remember every single day is the bold red line above. The act of killing her cell mate, murdering her and/or helping her to commit suicide is the most pure, the highest, and most noble forms of love. It resembles the highest levels of love, the highest levels and forms of courage and bravery for both of them.
Weiter lesen:
http://www.uruknet.info/index.php?p=m63080&hd=&size=1&l=eDer zweite Bericht setzt sich für die Frauen ein, - für ihre Rückkehr ins Leben:
Welcoming raped women...a one way ticket to God's Paradise
Hussein Anwar
"The Embrace - Painting on oil canvas by Todd Horne"
Before vomiting here, know that this post is not directed to American rabid dogs, on the contrary this post is directed to Iraqi men.
I am not done with this topic and I wont be done till the occupier both American and Persian and what ever have you leave my country.
______________________
I still cannot forget what Nadia said...
"I couldn't go back home because my brother set a funeral for me and I knew the knife of honor was waiting for me."
WHAT HONOR?!
She is innocent, and all these women are innocent, it was not their fault. What honor are you talking about? SHE WAS FORCED INTO THIS!!!
The problem with men like Nadia's brother is that they are typical tribes men, men that cannot put their ego out of the equation, men that cannot put their selfishness out of the equation and their bullshit about morals, customs, culture...etc
Putting aside the "Human to Human Compassion" i.e. assistant suicide, mercy killing etc which I have mentioned in my previous post, let us put it aside and speak about a stage where these women are left alive...TO LIVE!
It is because of people like Nadia's brother who would not welcome his sister, daughter, mother, wife etc back home, it is because of these people and their mentality that Nadia decided to wire herself and bomb herself in the middle of an American patrol, it is because of such men...these women wanted to die by any means possible, bombing themselves, or assistant suicide or mercy killing etc
If these men learned to put their ego aside, put their selfishness aside and their tribal bull shit and welcome these women back home...These women would of been alive by now.
Welcoming them back, and re-marrying them...is an act of heroism. YES and act of heroism, like mercy killing and/or assistant suicide it is considered perhaps the most noble thing to do for these women.
If decent Iraqi men, the fathers, the husbands, the brothers, the sons, the fellow-tribes men, the fellow-citizens, the fellow-nationalists, the fellow-comrades threw all laws which are MAN MADE, throw them and smash them against the wall, genocide these laws, the rules, the codes..etc and accept these women again...if they did so, then these women would not be thinking of the necessity of mercy killing and assistant suicide.
These men should fight against their egoism, against there pride, their arrogance, their vanity, their narrow-mindedness, there hard-heartedness etc and accept these women AGAIN in society, and most importantly in their HOMES, their FAMILIES where they grew up, where they witnessed the motherly warmth, the motherly tender.
You should accept them again...
let me tell you why you should accept them.
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