Monday, December 3, 2007
By Yasmine, an Iraqi in Amman, Jordan
A few days ago I ran into a lady , I see every now and then . . We chitchat, naturally, about the situation in Iraq . How it is improving . Then, it struck me, I immediately asked “any news?”. Her eyes drifted away, absentmindedly nodded “ no ,no news at all”
This is her story
In late 2006 Sabah ad Duliami(42) was waiting anxiously, in her flat in Amman, for her 13 year old son Mohammed Ahmed al Jadr to arrive from Baghdad by land, along with a family, an acquaintance of the child’s father. The arrangement between Sabah and her divorcee, his father, was, that as soon as the academic year 2006 is over, Mohammed will move to live with his mother in Amman since it is has become too precarious for him to stay in Baghdad . Like any other mother Sabah had cooked all the foods Hamoudi-nickname of Mohammed- likes, his room was in tip top condition, all awaiting for the arrival of Hamoudi, by noon. Afternoon and evening, elapsed , yet no sign of Hamoudi , then night befell ,at dawn the worried mother, pacing from window to window, contacted the father to see, what had delayed Hamoudi’s arrival. After 9 days of persisting search, the worst of the worst happened. All passengers, boarding the GMC including the driver were missing, meanwhile the vehicle was found not far from the highway-160 kilo - between Ramadi and Jordan.
One month elapsed, from, receiving the devastating news , grieving Sabah was told that her baby’s body was found, at the outskirts of Kerbela province and brought into Kerbela Hospital morgue. Her husband who lives in Baghdad decided to retrieve his son’s body . Unknowingly, this was their first step, in a painful path of uncertainty. Al Jadr went to Kerbela , to the morgue ,to his surprise , the body was not of his son’s, it was of a 17 year old boy , and totally burned. She received the news with “ helahl” a sound Arabic women release at time of utmost joy.
Apparently , a shepherd from the territory had discovered the crime scene which consisted of the bodies of two young men ,a young women and further away, into the orchards was the remains of which turned out to be the driver . The shepherd informed a local rest owner, who in his turn, told the police. The human remains were transferred to Kerbela Hospital morgue, ironically where Sabah ’s slain son, should be.
She resorted to revered sheikhs and fortune tellers in Amman, some by opening reading and reciting arbitrarily versus, from the Holy Koran , portending that he is alive “don’t worry your son is alive , he may not be well, but he is alive” they comfort her.
In the fall of 2006 , Sabah was told that her son was buried in a cemetery in the desert of Al Anbar province. Subsequently, she went to the grave, paid the undertaker $500, to dig the grave of what turned out to be a severely decomposed body. Once again it was not her son, for neither the color of his hair nor the cut, was that of her son. “My son’s hair is fair, unlike the one we found; besides my son never shaves a marine-crew – cut”. Ultimately, the grieving mother took a strand from the deceased hair, back to Amman and underwent a DNA test, it turned out that it was incompatible. Fortunately, it was not her son, and once again emotions ran high and hope of his survival prevailed.
By the end of last October, she received a call from a driver she knows, whose from al Anbar province ,told her that he had heard of her tragedy , and he had called to tell her : People had seen a boy with her son’s description in the Jordanian Field Hospital in Ramadi. He had been shot in his leg and is suffering from amnesia. (This is when I contacted Jordanian officials to see if it was true , because to tell you the truth , I had my doubts, but I felt so sorry for her . Anyhow, the Jordanian side told me that they will contact the field office and check. Two hours later they did, but unfortunately, there was no child with such specifications in the hospital) . However, the next day she changed her dress code to the one of the area and head to a journey of joy and uncertainty combined .
Eventually, at the Iraqi Ramadi General hospital, she pleaded the janitor, to hand her the patients records, of the last six months. Finally, she found a table that holds Hamoudi’s specifications, he had been admitted to the hospital, on June 22 2006 , medicated for a bullet in the thigh and 12 bottles of blood transfusion. The same family, who admitted him, checked him out. The nurse there, recalls that they were a family of peasants and since the child did not say a word, she did not suspect anything. The desperate mother stayed at homes of total strangers, who welcomed her and sympathized with her, yet could not help her, in search of her son. One old lady “Not necessarily all our stories have to have a bad ending, hope yours is different, for a change”. Sabah concluded that Hamoudi’s whereabouts could not be far from where she is looking and most probably , according to some inhabitants he is among Albo Nmir tribe , renown as looters.
Officer Maher at Trebil the Iraqi-Jordanian borders told her upon seeing Hamoudi’s photo “ despite the changes , but I assure you, yes I have seen the child” Even though he is currently dirty, thin with frizzy long hair. These words raised the mothers spirits. He also told her that he comes accompanied by a women, from the area she leaves him at the border for a couple of days to beg, collect alms or whatever bystanders give him . “though it is obvious he is not in his normal senses, he stares and is unvocal but you can tell that he is a nice kid” .
Sabah, returned back to Amman to print posters of Hamoudi, underneath all contacts in Amman and Baghdad topped with an awarding bounty for whoever finds him or leads to his whereabouts. Unrelenting Sabah head to the Trebil boarders in the coarse of a week , with a hundred copy poster to be distributed there. Ten days later officer Maher contacted her “ever since that poster was distributed, they have not seen the kid anywhere” . “Whenever I get hold of a string it is cut off” weeps Sabah “why, why is this happening? Nevertheless, I will not give up”.
On In January her husband, after attaining information of his son’s venue, Al Jadri was determined to seek and find his son. He head from Baghdad to Al Anbar, then into the village of Fellujah , then to Rutba , where his son is presumed to be. There he ran into an uncalculated obstacle: the US Army does not allow anyone to enter or leave the town , unless they have an ID that proves they are its inhabitants.
Ahmed al Jadr though a Sunni from Mousul was denied entry to the area. He was told to gain permit from the Americans, if he is to enter. He reckoned at the time it is not big deal, from Baghdad via some contacts, that will enable him to acquire the ID , until this day he has not!
Sabah’s story is not strange to Iraqis, in the mayhem of Baghdad , nowadays scores of mothers grieve over sons of unknown fates, who have “simply walked out of doors and not made it back” .
An Iraqi psychiatrist residing currently in Amman when overlooked Sabah’s case stated this is a normal condition “when the trauma is too big to handle, like in the case of Sabah the traumatized person resolves to “ a state of denial case” . At days Sabah is all smiles and dressed up, while on others she is on medication and refuses to confront anyone, depending on the news she receives. Whenever, her son’s matter is brought up. She spontaneously displays photos of him, in her cell phone, the day he was born, as toddle, on tricycle, first day at school. “Look, look how beautiful he is and if you know him you will love him even more”
My passport served my son, because of my surname, ad Duliami a profound clan from ad Duliam area ,in Anbar which they were named after- claims Sabah . According to Sabah the perpetrators killed all the Shiite travelers” while they spared her son because of her name on his passport.
Several months ago, she received news that he was astray near a rest in Rutba town , Rutba is at the outskirts of Ramadi, close to the Jordanian – Iraqi borders.
“He can’t be dead, a mother’s heart knows. I constantly see him in my dreams, crying: mama I’m hungry and cold, why don’t you come to rescue me” sobs Sabah .
A few days ago I ran into a lady , I see every now and then . . We chitchat, naturally, about the situation in Iraq . How it is improving . Then, it struck me, I immediately asked “any news?”. Her eyes drifted away, absentmindedly nodded “ no ,no news at all”
This is her story
In late 2006 Sabah ad Duliami(42) was waiting anxiously, in her flat in Amman, for her 13 year old son Mohammed Ahmed al Jadr to arrive from Baghdad by land, along with a family, an acquaintance of the child’s father. The arrangement between Sabah and her divorcee, his father, was, that as soon as the academic year 2006 is over, Mohammed will move to live with his mother in Amman since it is has become too precarious for him to stay in Baghdad . Like any other mother Sabah had cooked all the foods Hamoudi-nickname of Mohammed- likes, his room was in tip top condition, all awaiting for the arrival of Hamoudi, by noon. Afternoon and evening, elapsed , yet no sign of Hamoudi , then night befell ,at dawn the worried mother, pacing from window to window, contacted the father to see, what had delayed Hamoudi’s arrival. After 9 days of persisting search, the worst of the worst happened. All passengers, boarding the GMC including the driver were missing, meanwhile the vehicle was found not far from the highway-160 kilo - between Ramadi and Jordan.
One month elapsed, from, receiving the devastating news , grieving Sabah was told that her baby’s body was found, at the outskirts of Kerbela province and brought into Kerbela Hospital morgue. Her husband who lives in Baghdad decided to retrieve his son’s body . Unknowingly, this was their first step, in a painful path of uncertainty. Al Jadr went to Kerbela , to the morgue ,to his surprise , the body was not of his son’s, it was of a 17 year old boy , and totally burned. She received the news with “ helahl” a sound Arabic women release at time of utmost joy.
Apparently , a shepherd from the territory had discovered the crime scene which consisted of the bodies of two young men ,a young women and further away, into the orchards was the remains of which turned out to be the driver . The shepherd informed a local rest owner, who in his turn, told the police. The human remains were transferred to Kerbela Hospital morgue, ironically where Sabah ’s slain son, should be.
She resorted to revered sheikhs and fortune tellers in Amman, some by opening reading and reciting arbitrarily versus, from the Holy Koran , portending that he is alive “don’t worry your son is alive , he may not be well, but he is alive” they comfort her.
In the fall of 2006 , Sabah was told that her son was buried in a cemetery in the desert of Al Anbar province. Subsequently, she went to the grave, paid the undertaker $500, to dig the grave of what turned out to be a severely decomposed body. Once again it was not her son, for neither the color of his hair nor the cut, was that of her son. “My son’s hair is fair, unlike the one we found; besides my son never shaves a marine-crew – cut”. Ultimately, the grieving mother took a strand from the deceased hair, back to Amman and underwent a DNA test, it turned out that it was incompatible. Fortunately, it was not her son, and once again emotions ran high and hope of his survival prevailed.
By the end of last October, she received a call from a driver she knows, whose from al Anbar province ,told her that he had heard of her tragedy , and he had called to tell her : People had seen a boy with her son’s description in the Jordanian Field Hospital in Ramadi. He had been shot in his leg and is suffering from amnesia. (This is when I contacted Jordanian officials to see if it was true , because to tell you the truth , I had my doubts, but I felt so sorry for her . Anyhow, the Jordanian side told me that they will contact the field office and check. Two hours later they did, but unfortunately, there was no child with such specifications in the hospital) . However, the next day she changed her dress code to the one of the area and head to a journey of joy and uncertainty combined .
Eventually, at the Iraqi Ramadi General hospital, she pleaded the janitor, to hand her the patients records, of the last six months. Finally, she found a table that holds Hamoudi’s specifications, he had been admitted to the hospital, on June 22 2006 , medicated for a bullet in the thigh and 12 bottles of blood transfusion. The same family, who admitted him, checked him out. The nurse there, recalls that they were a family of peasants and since the child did not say a word, she did not suspect anything. The desperate mother stayed at homes of total strangers, who welcomed her and sympathized with her, yet could not help her, in search of her son. One old lady “Not necessarily all our stories have to have a bad ending, hope yours is different, for a change”. Sabah concluded that Hamoudi’s whereabouts could not be far from where she is looking and most probably , according to some inhabitants he is among Albo Nmir tribe , renown as looters.
Officer Maher at Trebil the Iraqi-Jordanian borders told her upon seeing Hamoudi’s photo “ despite the changes , but I assure you, yes I have seen the child” Even though he is currently dirty, thin with frizzy long hair. These words raised the mothers spirits. He also told her that he comes accompanied by a women, from the area she leaves him at the border for a couple of days to beg, collect alms or whatever bystanders give him . “though it is obvious he is not in his normal senses, he stares and is unvocal but you can tell that he is a nice kid” .
Sabah, returned back to Amman to print posters of Hamoudi, underneath all contacts in Amman and Baghdad topped with an awarding bounty for whoever finds him or leads to his whereabouts. Unrelenting Sabah head to the Trebil boarders in the coarse of a week , with a hundred copy poster to be distributed there. Ten days later officer Maher contacted her “ever since that poster was distributed, they have not seen the kid anywhere” . “Whenever I get hold of a string it is cut off” weeps Sabah “why, why is this happening? Nevertheless, I will not give up”.
On In January her husband, after attaining information of his son’s venue, Al Jadri was determined to seek and find his son. He head from Baghdad to Al Anbar, then into the village of Fellujah , then to Rutba , where his son is presumed to be. There he ran into an uncalculated obstacle: the US Army does not allow anyone to enter or leave the town , unless they have an ID that proves they are its inhabitants.
Ahmed al Jadr though a Sunni from Mousul was denied entry to the area. He was told to gain permit from the Americans, if he is to enter. He reckoned at the time it is not big deal, from Baghdad via some contacts, that will enable him to acquire the ID , until this day he has not!
Sabah’s story is not strange to Iraqis, in the mayhem of Baghdad , nowadays scores of mothers grieve over sons of unknown fates, who have “simply walked out of doors and not made it back” .
An Iraqi psychiatrist residing currently in Amman when overlooked Sabah’s case stated this is a normal condition “when the trauma is too big to handle, like in the case of Sabah the traumatized person resolves to “ a state of denial case” . At days Sabah is all smiles and dressed up, while on others she is on medication and refuses to confront anyone, depending on the news she receives. Whenever, her son’s matter is brought up. She spontaneously displays photos of him, in her cell phone, the day he was born, as toddle, on tricycle, first day at school. “Look, look how beautiful he is and if you know him you will love him even more”
My passport served my son, because of my surname, ad Duliami a profound clan from ad Duliam area ,in Anbar which they were named after- claims Sabah . According to Sabah the perpetrators killed all the Shiite travelers” while they spared her son because of her name on his passport.
Several months ago, she received news that he was astray near a rest in Rutba town , Rutba is at the outskirts of Ramadi, close to the Jordanian – Iraqi borders.
“He can’t be dead, a mother’s heart knows. I constantly see him in my dreams, crying: mama I’m hungry and cold, why don’t you come to rescue me” sobs Sabah .
