The Fourteenth Anniversary

Today is August 2nd, the fourteenth anniversary of Iraq's brutal invasion and occupation of Kuwait in 1990. I'm not one to dwell on the past because it's not in my nature, so I was heartened to see that we have basically "kissed and made up" with Iraq after years of animosity brought on by the tyrant Saddam Hussein and his band of criminals. It was still a little unsettling to see the Iraqi flag flying around town to commemorate the visit of Iraqi prime minister Eyad Allawi, but I feel it's a huge step in the right direction - regardless of what I personally think of Allawi. I am also commemorating this visit by adding 2 Iraqi blogs onto my list on the right.

I spent the entire 7 months of Iraqi occupation here in Kuwait, and I lost two friends to the Iraqi goon squads. And yet, I never bore any hatred toward the Iraqi people during the occupation because, the way I saw it, they had been under Saddam's iron fist for decades and we were only catching a glimpse - a summary if you will - of the hell they had been living through.

Of course, many families lost their sons, daughters and spouses during the occupation and I can only imagine their heartbreak. It is one thing to lose a friend or family member, but an entirely different hell when you don't know if they are dead or alive.

Strangely enough, and this is taboo for some reason, those of us who stayed in Kuwait don't have much ill will towards the Iraqi people or even the downtrodden Palestinians. We can't blame them for their leadership, since they didn't exactly vote for them. Sure, there were some rotten elements who did indeed collaborate with the Iraqis but there are rotten elements in every society - God knows we have our own fair share! I also noticed when the war was over, many Kuwaitis who spent the occupation outside the country came back with feelings of contempt for us "الصامدون" for staying behind. I guess we were the cool and calm "heroes" and they were just jealous.

My brother and I made a conscious decision from the outset that we weren't leaving the country, and decided to stay put to protect our home; the rest of the family was already away on summer vacation. It was a tough time to say the least, but we managed to get by thanks to the support of a large network of friends and family. We never felt we were alone, and our house became a hangout for nightly card games with my buddies. After the initial shock of the invasion, we learned how to stay out of trouble and avoid getting hauled off by the Iraqi forces. Movement was restricted by numerous checkpoints around town, and a curfew at night (can't remember what time). By November of 1990, things calmed down, the checkpoints were reduced and by December the curfew was lifted and I remember feeling more bored than worried, to the point where I would gauge the urgency of the situation by our placement as news items on CNN. If we slipped till after the first commercial break, that meant we weren't "news" and I would start to worry this damn occupation was going to last much longer than I thought.

When the war finally started on January 16-17, we thought it would be over in 3 days but even that dragged on for another month. It was only towards the end, when the electricity and phones were cut off that it got really scary. Word was out that the Iraqi forces were rounding up any young men they could get hold of, for no particular reason, and we just stayed at home waiting for them to come. Where else could we go? Thankfully, they never showed up and that night I heard a loud rumbling outside my window (we live on the 4th ring road). I looked outside and saw a non-stop stream of cars, buses and trucks all heading towards Sulaibikhat. I figured they must have been the remaining Iraqi civil servants, finally escaping Kuwait and heading up north. This went on for an hour, and when it was over I fell asleep and woke up the next morning to the sound of a solitary car horn. I looked outside and saw one lonely car making its way slowly onto the road flying the Kuwaiti flag. I still choke up when I remember that sight, even as I'm typing this!

I don't think I will ever forget it. Of course, my biggest regret is that I never kept a daily journal of life under occupation, but back then I didn't even know how to type so I wasn't about to write anything with a pen.