Wednesday, May 30, 2007
selective memory. day.
Father was so paranoid, Nadia thought. Cousin Samir was to be married, yet Father would not let the whole family celebrate together. He told us it was a trick he learned from the American Government. They never have the whole government meet at the same place or at the same time. So this was safe, he said. Two celebrations, two different neighborhoods. The family would carry on, if something were to happen.
If something were to happen. Father said that so many times, Nadia didn't even flinch anymore, when he'd say it. With the near-constant gunfire and distant explosions, it was difficult for her to flinch at anything. She just wanted to have a happy day, eat some good food, and laugh with her family. Some of her family, at least.
Her sisters, Ulla and Mina, were setting the picnic tables in the yard. Sahib and Nizam, two first cousins, were kicking a football around, avoiding the chores. Mother chided them, and then turned her wrath to Nadia, who forgot to take the bread from the oven. Nadia went back into the house, but heard a strange whistling sound and turned around to look. Her Father's face went to stone, as he looked up towards the North.
When she awoke, everything was gone. Nadia could not hear, or move her arm. She could only sit up, and see the nothing, the crater, the blood and bits and pieces, that once made up her family. Some of her family.
There is no organized effort to name all victims of the war (there's no upside to collect such a thing, apparently.) The last significant effort to estimate non-combatant deaths, by the Johns Hopkins University's Bloomberg School of Public Health, put the Iraqi war death toll at 650,000. That was in 2006. At that rate (500 deaths per day) it could actually be nearing 800,000. In spite of being impugned by the U.S. Administration as "wildly inaccurate" and using "bad math", the report has since held up to academic scrutiny.
So for every American death in Iraq, 200-250 innocent Iraqis also die. if only there were some way, some sort of Memorial Day, that could be used to remember them, too.
