Haana.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about Her from my Diary. Day 9: Haana Haana, is a far relative. It is the first time I write about a relative of mine in these stories. She is related to my aunts in-law's. The first time I met Haana was when she was nine years old. She had short,... Continue Reading →

Pari.

Sixteen Days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary.  Day 8: Pari Pari was tall, very tall. Slim. Fit to walk an international catwalk and model for the world's greatest designers. She was so fit, anyone who did not know would guess that Pari spent all her days at the gym. For the Iraqi context... Continue Reading →

Avin.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary. Day 7: Avin More than ten years ago, in 2008, I met Avin and her peers in a high school in Erbil. I walked into the school with a flip-chart stand, flip-chart papers and some markers. We had selected a few school after initial research indicated... Continue Reading →

Fatma.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about her from my diary. Day 6: Fatma Fatma is tall, very tall and stunning. Her long black hair is hidden under a conservative hijab. She barely puts makeup on, for her natural beauty needs no makeup. Fair, soft, skin, almond brown eyes, the perfect shaped nose and lots of height,... Continue Reading →

Soz.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary. Day 5: Soz Soz is a close friend of mine. A secret friend I may say. If I am so called smart, Soz is one hundred times smarter, if I have a dash of kindness, Soz has an ocean of kindness. If I have any beauty,... Continue Reading →

Helan.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary. Day 4: Helan Helan is a teacher, and a mother of three. She is a beautiful woman in her early thirties. Helan, has the Kurdish eyebrows, expressive brown eyes, and the most beautiful humble facial features. In fact, she can turn heads with her beauty, presence... Continue Reading →

Manisht.

Sixteen Days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary. Day 3: Manisht. Manisht's story I hold very close to my heart. She belonged to a family of four sisters and five brothers. Manisht's love for a relative was innocent, and pure. They would meet in family gatherings, as she tells me he was handsome, educated... Continue Reading →

Zerin.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary.  Day 2: Zerin Zerin, was a young girl, around the age of nine when I first met her. Today she is in her very late teenage years, and nothing in her story has changed. We all knew Zerin loved being hugged and gave lots of cheek... Continue Reading →

Layla.

Sixteen days. Sixteen stories about Her from my diary.  Day 1: Layla Once I conducted a research at the rehabilitation centre in Erbil, also known as The Women’s Prison. In three days I interviewed over 12 women. The women in my interview came from different parts of Iraq and were caught on different cases including... Continue Reading →

Fading Love for Kurdistan

I grew up in the arms of a father who told us Peshmerga stories at bedtime. Who sat us on his lap, and told us how it was to be escaping the enemy from cave to cave in the mountains during the night; how it was for friends’ limbs to be amputated; what it was... Continue Reading →

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