Violence raging in Iraq hits home
Posted: Wednesday, May 30, 2007 9:28 AM
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Baghdad, Iraq
By NBC local journalist in Baghdad*
As Iraqis, the everyday scenes of blood and killing have become normal to us and even our children; we have become numb to a certain extent.
But it is different when you hear news about the death of a relative or friend.
I got a early phone call on a recent morning; I'm always afraid of early-morning calls because they are almost always bad news.
It was from my brother who told me that a close cousin had been killed after evening prayers. He was coming back home from the mosque and was carrying a big bottle of Pepsi he had bought for his kids on the way back. I was upset, as he was family.
But what was almost worse was hearing about the death of a close friend on the very same day.
Best friend gone
Omar Al-biyati was my best friend; I can see him even now when I close my eyes. I had just come back from a vacation and was eager to catch up with him.
Omar worked at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; he was a successful diplomat who had recently been posted elsewhere around the world, but he was now back in Baghdad, working here until he got his next assignment.
Our friendship developed in college where we studied together for six years. We inseparable: I would never be found without Omar and vice versa. He was an only child from a very distinguished family, the sort of person who could never say "no" to anybody, always incredibly agreeable and very humble.
But when I called him, I kept on getting a wrong number message. I couldn’t understand what the problem was since I was dialing from my saved numbers.
So I tried his office number and was again surprised when it was answered by a woman -- I couldn’t figure out why I was having such a difficult time reaching him.
"Is this Omar Muneer Al-biyati office?" I asked.
"Omar was killed a month ago by gunmen who kidnapped him with his own car and then threw his body the next day in the same neighborhood," she responded.
I couldn’t speak anymore, all the memories came flooding in: the graduation party and how we drank until morning; how Omar introduced me to my wife for the first time; how much he loved his wife Abeer; the son and daughter he doted on; how we hugged each other for ages when he came back from a two-year assignment in India.
I can't bear to think that I won't see Omar anymore. He was busy during our last telephone conversation; he was preparing to travel with the foreign minister to Egypt. I learned from his colleagues that it was his last day.
I am in pain when I think about what his wife and two beautiful children must be going through. What I cannot accept is that his life was taken away because he was a decent, successful officer working in a government ministry.
* The names of local journalists are not used to protect their identity.