When I was jailed in Iraq (P-3)
the stench of sweat and urine was almost normal for me and i also became more in control of the call of nature not used to eating the prison food, which was offered to us in a very large utensil that everyone shared with their dirty hands, but this hunger cannot be sustained, and after these years passed, i looked for something similar to that food to lose weight.
the friend who was with me returned to kuwait, told my father about what happened. he just sent his palestinian driver to basra to help me, and fortunately his older brother owned a famous laundry in basra so he started to help me instantly. after two days in jail, the famous iraqi and palestinian food dishes began to come to me in prison and i shared it with my kurdish friend, and the food was really delicious especially with the amount increasing day by day.
on the fourth day, i was transferred to the court in a military vehicle – a lorry driven by a military man, suitable for the transfer of dirt, and easy to jump and disappear among human masses, and this would have been done by anyone accused of spying for israel in a country that treats the prisoner far from compassion and humanity, but i did not do that of course.
i stayed in court for hours and my case fi le did not come because it was among the pile of dozens of other cases lying in the judge’s office. the process of transferring me from the prison to the court continued for a week but increasing the happiness of the two brothers who were with me because the meals increased in variety and quality, in addition to crackers and dumplings and lots of iraqi tea.
eating and talking were our only pleasure, and sometimes some would cry over sad songs of an inmate and as soon as he finished curses and insults were hurled at him. the next day the singing began against followed by usual crying, followed by insults and curses and it went on and on.
i discovered that my case will not be considered quickly because of the so many fi les on the judge’s desk, so it was necessary to put a few more dinars in the hands of the porter to pull the case fi le from under the pile and put it on top again. on the day of looking into the case, the judge did not attend, and i had to pay the porter again to keep the fi le in same place.
more than a week later, the judge acquitted and released me immediately and ruled that i had the right to take my car, my palestinian friend’s letter and signing a pledge not to support the israeli enemy’s continued occupation of the occupied territories.
i said goodbye to my prison comrades and left in same clothes which i wore when i entered, dishdasha and ghutra and oqal and a pair of sandals, and forgot my suffering, but memories are filled with such events, and remain with me until today.
as soon as i came out of the gate, i was greeted with kisses, good prayers and greetings from those who were waiting for me outside the gate, which was not far from the popular market. the kisses were from the brother of the driver, of the father and his son who told me that i had gotten a new life because there is no justice in that prison.