Last Saturday, 2/11/06,
Riverbend, a young woman in Baghdad, described a raid by Iraqi forces on her aunt's house, where she and a few relatives had gathered for a birthday party. They noticed their phones weren't working, an ominous sign according to the aunt: "The last time this happened, the area was raided." The aunt was seething: "This is the third time the bastards raid the area in 2 months... We'll never get any peace or quiet" Riverbend's uncle began unlocking five different locks on the kitchen door.
The family lived in a relatively new mixed neighborhood- Sunnis, Shia and Christians-- where most of the neighbors had known each other for years. "We don't know what they're looking for... La Ilaha Ila Allah..."
Riverbend asked her uncle why he was unlocking everything. "The animals will break down the doors if they aren't open in three seconds and then they'll be all over the garden and house... last time they pushed the door open on poor Abu H. three houses down and broke his shoulder..."
Riverbend gave more details:
Last time they had raided my aunt's area, they took away four men on their street alone. Two of them were students in their early twenties- one a law student, and the other an engineering student, and the third man was a grandfather in his early sixties. There was no accusation, no problem- they were simply ordered outside, loaded up into a white pickup truck and driven away with a group of other men from the area. Their families haven't heard from them since and they visit the morgue almost daily in anticipation of finding them dead.
...Towards 5 a.m., just before the raiders arrived, [the women] hid valuables and brought their handbags into the living room. "They took baba's mobile phone during the last raid - make sure your mobile phones are with you."
... Suddenly, the house was filled with strange men, yelling out orders and stomping into rooms. It was chaotic. We could see flashing lights in the garden and lights coming from the hallways. I could hear [my uncle] talking loudly outside, telling them his wife and the `children' were the only ones in the house. What were they looking for? Was there something wrong?
...One of them stood with the Klashnikov pointed at us, and the other one began opening cabinets and checking behind doors. We were silent. The only sounds came from my aunt, who was praying in a tremulous whisper and little B., who was sucking away at his thumb, eyes wide with fear. I could hear the rest of the troops walking around the house, opening closets, doors and cabinets.
Suddenly, someone called out something from outside and it was over. They began rushing to leave the house, almost as fast as they'd invaded it. Doors slamming, lights dimming. We were left in the dark once more, not daring to move from the sofa we were sitting on, listening as the men disappeared, leaving only a couple to stand at our gate.
... Riverbend's aunt sat sobbing quietly in the living room. "Houses are no longer sacred... We can't sleep... We can't live... If you can't be safe in your own house, where can you be safe? The animals... the bastards..."
They took at least a dozen men from my aunt's area alone- their ages between 19 and 40. The street behind us doesn't have a single house with a male under the age of 50- lawyers, engineers, students, ordinary laborers- all hauled away by the `security forces' of the New Iraq. The only thing they share in common is the fact that they come from Sunni families (with the exception of two who I'm not sure about).
We spent the day putting clothes back into closets, taking stock of anything missing (a watch, a brass letter opener, and a walkman), and cleaning dirt and mud off of carpets. My aunt was fanatic about cleansing and disinfecting everything saying it was all "Dirty, dirty, dirty..." J. has sworn never to celebrate her birthday again.
To end on a happier note, here is Riverbend's description of the birthday party:
The lunch was quite good- my aunt is possibly one of the best cooks in Baghdad. She makes traditional Iraqi food and for J.'s birthday she had prepared all our favorites- dolma (rice and meat wrapped in grape leaves, onions, peppers, etc.), beryani rice, stuffed chicken, and some salads. The cake was ready-made and it was in the shape of a friendly-looking fish, J.'s father having forgotten she was an Aquarius and not a Pisces when he selected it, "I thought everyone born in February was a Pisces..." He explained when we pointed out his mistake.
The 16-year-old birthday girl received her gifts:
bear pajamas, boy band CDs, a sweater with some sparkly things on it, a red and beige book bag... Your typical gifts for a teenager. The gift that made her happiest, however, was given by her father. After she'd opened up everything, he handed her a small, rather heavy, silvery package. She unwrapped it hastily and gasped with delight, "Baba- it's lovely!" She smiled as she held it up to the light of the gas lamp to show it off. It was a Swiss Army knife- complete with corkscrew, nail clippers, and a bottle opener.
"You can carry it around in your bag for protection when you go places!" He explained. She smiled and gingerly pulled out the blade, "And look- when the blade is clean, it works as a mirror!" We all oohed and aahed our admiration and T., another cousin, commented she'd get one when the Swiss Army began making them in pink.
Riverbend tried to remember what she got on her 16th birthday and was sure it wasn't a knife of any sort.
...