Lost

After losing tangible and intangible belongings, after losing hope for going back homeland, after losing friends, homes, cars… after a family was scattered on earth, after we struggled so hard to get a residency in UAE, we lost my father's black handbag.

No, this time no key is lost nor a joke is being told. This time we lost our three Iraqi passports and all the paper related to our residency.

Since December 2006, we've been waiting for our residency papers to be processed. Some people were skeptical that they stopped issuing residency to Iraqis other said they would give you but it would take time. It has been crazy here about Iraqis just like it has been about Iraqis all over the world. More than three months and we were only asked to submit more and more papers. Each time we submit one they say it lacks a certain stamp. Each stamp took us days to get. After all is done and everything was fine, only the blood test was needed to finish the paper, the papers are lost.

As I was busy with the institute of art in the morning and busy with my MBA classes in the evening, I pampered myself a bit and asked my father if it was possible for me to have the blood test after midday so I won't waste any time.

While I was spending my time in a workshop for oil painting with an American artist from a Pakistani background, my father finished every single paper before the blood test and even finished his blood test and checked the time so I'll do the same the next day. He spent his way coming home flying because of happiness that at last we'll have a residency. He passed by the Mega Mart downstairs to get bread and the bag was in the small basket. He stopped to weigh up some vegetables and the bag was taken from the basket.

I don't know what to say, I don't know what to think. It's just too hard after waiting for happiness and after smelling it, few steps away from tasting it, when you have to face the truth that it does not exist, at least for Iraqis.

I'm aware the thief did not know this man with this bag was an Iraqi. I'm aware that when people cannot control their lives they would blame anyone or anything. I just feel or let me say believe that Iraqis are being mistreated everywhere. And whatever comes the "because we are Iraqis" is always the answer.

We've lost this same bag once before. It was one of those days when an explosion happened in Karada area in Baghdad. My father went there to buy chargeable fans for post war life. When he lost it, we lost about 400$ which was nothing compared to the IDs and other important papers which was there too. Thanks to a Shiite guy from Thawra district who found the bag and read the ID with dad's full name that implies that his ancestors goes back to Al Hussain bin Ali, profit Mohamed's grandson. The guy found it with all the IDs but no money was there. That day we were sure life was still worth living in Iraq and dad gave this man a reward.

Who would find the bag if it was thrown on the sideway? Here in a city of multinational people. Who would care to read the papers inside and pity those smiling faces in the Iraqi passports, and the residency papers which need only one stamp so we would receive the residency cards?

We've made a communiqué at the police station and all they had to say that they can provide us with the statement so we can start the formulation of getting new passports and from thence we can start the residency papers all over again. Or the thief might just throw the bag somewhere and they would be notified about it. Somewhere!! Like garbage?

So I guess all the stuff we see about police is just for movies and TV? Or what? No investigation? No nothing? What about the shop? It's such a huge hypermarket that has many branches in UAE. No cameras!?!
My father is walking and searching in the area since 1 pm. Every now and then he would go search in the streets, hoping that as the police said he would find it thrown here or there. I'm so worried about him and his heart. He just came back and he says "ya farha ma tamit" (Unaccomplished cheerfulness).

There's an Iraqi word, in Maslawi dialect "Stitch it here, it would rip there)
Please pray for us. Pray for all those who wait for mercy. Pray for all Iraqis. Pray for us.
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Up date,
8 hourse later the papers and the three passports were in hour hands. how?
An Indian worker found some papers and three passports in a plastic bag, in Satwa district in Dubai, 2 hours away from our place. He took it to the site manger, an Egyptian engineer. The engineer called his wife, who was an Iraqi woment who left Baghdad 10 years ago. he asked her if she knew the names. She called all her Iraqi friends to check if anyone of them might know those names.
Later they took the electricity bill, which happened to be in the bag, and start their search to find us.

After 4 hours, they were knocking on our door.
The woman happend to be from the same city dad comes from, Hilla. and she carries the same last name.

So life still worths living I guess. and as much as there is evil and there exists goodness.