I am not a trained Journalist,
I am just a girl with a pen and paper who knows basic grammar and basic vocabulary.
These basics are my tools to deliver this message to you.
Baghdad is in pain, she lay flat as she catches her people falling on her soil,
delivering kisses of blood.
And like a helpless mother Baghdad cradles their cold bodies to her chest.
I don’t know how much change we can make, posts, tweeting, retweeting, and writing as we attempt to gain social brownie points or raise awareness on this topic. It is beginning to fill my lungs with sand, and my heart with pain as places like a popular ice cream shop are the target as places to bomb. You ask yourself why? It’s just a place for people to eat and have a good time, for families to create good memories not to meet their death.
But this is the reality of the lives of Iraqis that are living in Iraq, they live in fear. It has been fear for the past 14 years.
I only pray that it changes one day. I only pray that silence decorated by bird song are what Iraqi children hear when they eat ice cream, not bombs.
I am Fadak Almashat and I wrote this as I hurt for Iraq.