Escape

Iraq... what is Iraq to me? Home? Childhood? Family? Don’t be surprised if I say nightmare. Yes it is a nightmare to me. I left it as a 5 year old and it is still haunting me in my dreams. I know that Iraq is probably one of the richest countries on planet earth but what does it change to me? Every time my parent’s friends or family call, I suddenly have Goosebumps on all my body and I flee to a safe place. It may sound pathetic to you, but you would have the same panic attacks if you were me. I am the oldest child of an engineer and a doctor who both graduated in Baghdad. They are the top of the society… well that is what every doctor in Iraq thinks… it’s very sad the way some Iraqis think of themselves. I am deeply disappointed. My family wants me to marry and have nice little kids. Be a pleasing housewife who cleans the house from floor to wall, cooks 3 times a day, kisses her husbands ass, fucks a man she never learned to speak with, go and work, look good, have many connections and be very stupid and act like a sheep. But guess what I really am? I am not the foolish housewife every Iraqi man wants. I am me, and that will stay that way until the day of judgement or for the atheists until the day the sun stops providing us with energy or turns into a red giant.
But why am I thinking that way? Why do I seem to be so pessimistic?
My family are shi3a Muslims who come from Kufa next to Najaf in Iraq. They are mostly very religious with the exception of 3 cousins of mine who are more sexists than religious. Their book is instead of the Koran, a pornography magazine bought in a little kiosk next to some sacred place in Kufa. My family expects me to be highly religious. I tried for so many times to change my atheist way of thinking with Islamic theology but the result was always that I rise in the atheists mind. This was the first point. The second point is the religion. Iraq and most of the Arabic countries put their citizens under pressure by expecting them to be a follower of a sect or a religious group. There is no acceptance for someone calling him or herself atheist. It is not accepted as a way of living. It is seen as foolishness and as a danger to the youth. Well… I never met any Iraqi atheist! Every Iraqi that is befriended with our family is either Muslim or Christian. I am atheist because I found so many weaknesses in most of the religions I consider to be the most logical around me. It is incredible to see that most of the people follow their religion blindly. Why do they believe everything they hear from their parents? Are your parents that all-knowing that you believe everything they say? I admire the converts. This part of the population is the clever part of all. The question the facts they have been thought. Who said that your mum know everything? Who told you the stories of the prophets your granddad told you were correct? Who says that the religion your family has is automatically yours? The third point is culture. Iraq’s culture is extremely unfriendly towards everything female. I know who is ready to argue with me about this pint. A macho male or a stupid naïve female. The male would bring arguments like women can vote; they can walk on their own on the street, go to universities and more or less choose their husbands. Don’t all of those points show me that Iraq is really suppressing females? What does the naïve female add to the argument? She adds everything he father or brother told her… so sad.
The last point is not only special to girls. All Iraqi youth are made to study the subjects their culture chose for them. For example my family wants me to study medicine. But I prefer to study psychology sociology and English language to be a counsellor.
The last and most important point is fear. I never had a fearless moment with my parents. Every time one of my parents enters my room all my muscles contacts and I stand still. You never know what they are going to do or why they come in. to punish me? To tell me what a bad girl I am? To send me back to Iraq or to take away my room? You might think… well… take away your room… this won’t be that bad! It is actually the worst thing that could happen to me. I would be homeless. I would be homeless in my home. My room is the only place in the whole big house where I relax and let all the fears that are building inside me disappear. It is the only place where I can be me. Not even outside the house I can be me. Every where are my parent’s friends. They are quite popular and very controlling. Sometimes when I get ready for college and wear my scarf I don’t recognise myself in the mirror. It is like another girl staring back at me. With scarf I am a completely different person. I avoid looking into the mirror when I have the scarf on and ask my sister to help me fix it. It is scary when you suddenly see someone else in your reflection. *shudder*
Back to fear. When ever I say something I wait for a brutal and aggressive respond. As a kid I was mercilessly beaten up by them and still have some scars left. But now that I am approaching marriage age they stopped abusing me physically but started abusing me verbally and haunting me in my dreams. I fear my parents.

This blog is about how I will change my life. First I will tell you a lot about what I get to see everyday and what I think and then I will change my life. The one I am living now is damaging me and my boy is shutting down. I will escape.