First and foremost, I love Australia. I love everything about it. I love that people are so laid back and relaxed. I love that its so peaceful and everything could be solved through discussion and debate. I love that people from other countries think I like Vegemite, even though I really dont. I love that they're silly enough to think we keep Kangaroo's as pets. I love the way I defend it when others put it down, and how the whether can suddenly change in a few minutes, but most of all, I love that its become my second home. A country I love to come back to after a long holiday away. A country where I could voice my opinions and speak my mind. A country I grew accustomed to. One that took me in and treated me as its own.
However I can never forget my hometown. My war torn, damaged, spoilt, obliterated and destructed hometown of Iraq. A country once so beautiful gone to waste, and all because of .... well, Im not sure why. All those excuses made me confused! I can never pull away from the strong connection I have with it, nor could I ever explain the allegiance I feel I owe it. We left Iraq when I was four years of age, yet those years cannot define how much I need to go back. I missed out. I missed out on being Iraqi. I missed out on living an Iraqi life. I cant help but wonder if my children would feel how I feel. If they would have the same patriotic feeling in them that I have now. In many years from now, will there still be the same Iraq there is now? Will it still be occupied? Will people still turn on each other like they are now? Will women have to be forced into prostitution so they can support their children? How many widows will there be? How many orphans will be left out on the streets, fighting for their lives? Will there still be 'liberators' turning our country into rot and decadence? Will there still be soldiers raping our girls and burning their families before shooting them?I cant help but wonder...
My parents tell us of the many years ago they lived in Iraq. How beautiful it was, and how everyone got along (believeit or not). How Eid would be particularly special because the entire family would get togethor and celebrate the glorious day. They would talk about it as if they were there, as there eyes glow and their smiles widen. Memories rushing back; 'Alaaaaaahhhhh' My dad would say. 'Allah Allah'. I missed out, and the fact that I did miss out on all those memories makes me want to go back more. It makes me want to experience it, or at least build a brighter future for the Iraqi's. For the children who never had, or might not ever have an Iraqi life...my children, my children's children. Those children who have been forgotten. Who have completely lost their identity and those who are ashamed to say that they have any links with Iraq...
Australia accepted me, but Iraq will always be ready to have me back.
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2 comments:
I really like this post - touched my heart! Please keep blogging..
Thank you so much. It means alot that u feel that way. I would definitely try to keep goin now that I have your support. :D
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