I grew up in a world fearing its leader. Fear was cultivated in us during the regime of the infamous Saddam Hussein where you could not trust your own family fearing there is an informant in the midst. Friends I knew would just disappear with anyone who was related to them, even questioning their disappearance.. Absolute regard given to the leader and his political party and any/all high ranking people in that party. A real brick wall true story is what happened to a well known surgeon who also was our family doctor. I heard how because he laughed at a joke being told by an informant at a casual gathering since the doctor was the only one who laughed at the joke about Saddam, he was arrested, within 24hrs of his disappearance, his family was informed of his execution.
*****
This reminded me of how one of my 8 sisters displayed courage and resilience in a desperate moment dominated by grown ups in position of authority in elementary school under the regime of Saddam Hussein on a freezing cold morning in the city of Ba’akooba in northern Baghdad in the early 1980s.
I remember being strictly instructed not to joke or make fun or criticize the leader and the (Baa’th) party or there would be consequences the whole family may have to pay for it.
One of my sisters who was a grade older than me one day after hours and hours of school and after school training of song,poems,speeches even plays dedicated entirely to the ‘beloved leader’ made up this joke of calling Saddam Hussein ((Khaddam Hussein)).
Khaddam in Arabic means servant or lowly housekeeper…
The day or so after her joke about the name of Saddam, I remember to this day how cold that morning was.. We had no heaters in the classroom.. Sometimes we had a heater but it was only to be used by the teacher…
On that cold morning our classes were mixed due to a teacher absence. It was crowded, I sat in the middle of the row against the wall… My sister was at front and center row. A special spot for excellent students. And that she was!
She’s was not only smart, she was clever, quick witted, friendly to all who knew her even teachers liked her.
She was at the same time strong willed young lady where only until she is in charge the class would be settled when the teacher put her in supervisor duties sometimes… Students knew that she would keep them in line beside she held a piece of paper and a pencil to write down anyone naughty while teacher was out. No one wanted their name on that list.
She was no bully she was very polite and had a personality where when she spoke, everyone listened to her. She was smart and popular.
That morning I remember her sitting trying to warm up her freezing hands under the wooden desk by rubbing them together.
I think I was 8-9 years old.
The headmaster barged into the crowded classroom, with few other -what looked like important people, she called my sister by name and as my sister stood up and as she walked towards the headmaster, the headmaster asked ‘are you the one called our leader (khaddam)?’
As my sister stepped closer nodding her head yes, the headmaster bent over and smacked her on the mouth forcefully.
We all gasped, my sister covered her mouth with instant tears rolling on her cheeks and her cold fingers covering her mouth… As she wanted to return toner desk, the tall muscular lady headmaster with loud horsey voice, yanked her back stopping her ‘am not done with you yet’
With one hand she kept holding my sister in the other she reached towards our teacher asking for the (o’odaa) the punishing stick.
She ordered my tearful sister to open her hands.
AL SAEED KAEED EL JAMHORYAH AL IRAKYAH AL RAEES SADDAM HUSAIN HAFITHAHOO ALLAH WA RA’AA
The leader of the republic of Iraq the president Saddam Hussein God bless and protect him…
She yelled those words and with every word she hit my sister in the hand… So hard it was painful to watch… She cried bitterly but did not remove her little red as blood hands…
She returned to her desk as the headmaster yelled at us all to be respectful and careful how to speak about the leader of the Baa’th revolution leader and our President..
Through my tear filled eyes I could see my sister as she rubber her red hands gently.. She wiped her tears and red mouth with her sleeves… Blinked her eyes as she took few deep breathes and sat up straight…
The teacher called my sister once again as the auntorage of the important people walked out of our classroom. She asked her to keep the students quiet as she had to go speak to the superiors outside.
The class was still staring at my sister and I could hear few still whimpering and crying from the sight of that punishment..
My sister stood tall, walked towards the center of the class with a white sheet of paper and a pencil she could barely keep holding due to her hurting hands..
You could have heard a pin drop, it was absolute silence.
I remember being strictly instructed not to joke or make fun or criticize the leader and the (Baa’th) party or there would be consequences the whole family may have to pay for it.
One of my sisters who was a grade older than me one day after hours and hours of school and after school training of song,poems,speeches even plays dedicated entirely to the ‘beloved leader’ made up this joke of calling Saddam Hussein ((Khaddam Hussein)).
Khaddam in Arabic means servant or lowly housekeeper…
The day or so after her joke about the name of Saddam, I remember to this day how cold that morning was.. We had no heaters in the classroom.. Sometimes we had a heater but it was only to be used by the teacher…
On that cold morning our classes were mixed due to a teacher absence. It was crowded, I sat in the middle of the row against the wall… My sister was at front and center row. A special spot for excellent students. And that she was!
She’s was not only smart, she was clever, quick witted, friendly to all who knew her even teachers liked her.
She was at the same time strong willed young lady where only until she is in charge the class would be settled when the teacher put her in supervisor duties sometimes… Students knew that she would keep them in line beside she held a piece of paper and a pencil to write down anyone naughty while teacher was out. No one wanted their name on that list.
She was no bully she was very polite and had a personality where when she spoke, everyone listened to her. She was smart and popular.
That morning I remember her sitting trying to warm up her freezing hands under the wooden desk by rubbing them together.
I think I was 8-9 years old.
The headmaster barged into the crowded classroom, with few other -what looked like important people, she called my sister by name and as my sister stood up and as she walked towards the headmaster, the headmaster asked ‘are you the one called our leader (khaddam)?’
As my sister stepped closer nodding her head yes, the headmaster bent over and smacked her on the mouth forcefully.
We all gasped, my sister covered her mouth with instant tears rolling on her cheeks and her cold fingers covering her mouth… As she wanted to return toner desk, the tall muscular lady headmaster with loud horsey voice, yanked her back stopping her ‘am not done with you yet’
With one hand she kept holding my sister in the other she reached towards our teacher asking for the (o’odaa) the punishing stick.
She ordered my tearful sister to open her hands.
AL SAEED KAEED EL JAMHORYAH AL IRAKYAH AL RAEES SADDAM HUSAIN HAFITHAHOO ALLAH WA RA’AA
The leader of the republic of Iraq the president Saddam Hussein God bless and protect him…
She yelled those words and with every word she hit my sister in the hand… So hard it was painful to watch… She cried bitterly but did not remove her little red as blood hands…
She returned to her desk as the headmaster yelled at us all to be respectful and careful how to speak about the leader of the Baa’th revolution leader and our President..
Through my tear filled eyes I could see my sister as she rubber her red hands gently.. She wiped her tears and red mouth with her sleeves… Blinked her eyes as she took few deep breathes and sat up straight…
The teacher called my sister once again as the auntorage of the important people walked out of our classroom. She asked her to keep the students quiet as she had to go speak to the superiors outside.
The class was still staring at my sister and I could hear few still whimpering and crying from the sight of that punishment..
My sister stood tall, walked towards the center of the class with a white sheet of paper and a pencil she could barely keep holding due to her hurting hands..
You could have heard a pin drop, it was absolute silence.
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