The 24th of August, 2005

On this day the 24th of August 2005, my father was kidnapped and killed by terrorists in Baghdad (after that last war of Iraq 2003). At that time, I was in Malaysia and I called my family to say hi several times. My mother told me he is outside, the other day, she said he went on to pay the electricity bill and other days she told me he had broken his legs. When my sister Balsam found his dead body two weeks later in one of Baghdad's hospital, they decided to call me and my sister said that my father was sick and wanted to see me - in fact, he passed away!!!. I travelled from Malaysia to Bahrain; it was a seven hour flight and I had been crying all the way and praying to God for his good health and to get well soon. When I arrived Bahrain and had booked a flight to Iraq (non-direct flight), I was speaking to my mother on the phone and overheard her saying "should I tell her?" to my aunt. I got very angry and asked her to tell me the truth of what was going on. At last, my mother told me everything. She said that my father was kidnapped and got killed. At that very moment, I didn't know what was happening to me. Everything in my mind started falling down. But the feeling was different, probably because I preferred my father to die with a good health, so he died and was still standing on his feet. Before three days of his kidnaping, my father was planning to go to Paris for a conference as he was chairing sessions and delivering a paper and he was telling my mother that he was putting all his knowledge that he has on Mesopotamia on this paper. The paper was gone along with his ID and other things that he used to take with him each time he went to the Ministry of Oil, as he was an expert in petroleum there. When I arrived home in Baghdad, the feel was getting strange. I did not feel he was dead, I felt like he was traveling outside of Iraq and will be back soon. When years passed after I left Iraq and came to the UK, one day, I was sitting on the tram on my way back home from the library, I stood behind a man and his back side reminded me of my father. I could not hold my tears, so I started to cry. As I reached home, I cried even more and much louder. My flat mate asked me if I was ok or if anyone has hurt me. I kept nodding and said "No, I just saw a man and he reminded me a lot of my father." After all these years, I still miss him. I started, somehow, unconsciously to follow his footsteps. I have done my PhD in the UK just like him and I have interests in archaeology, history and irrigation system and I love geology. I also prefer the professional practice more than academia, i.e. working in a university and teaching. But I will never be like him and no one else will be (everyone is unique). He was a special man, devoted himself to his country. He used to say "I always pray to die in a good health rather than reaching to a degradation age." I feel like he is with me, always. When I won the award of Rising Star Architect, it was not a surprise for me. I knew I will win it when I submitted, firstly, because of my work and, secondly, I saw a dream and my father was there; I went home telling him that I won the award and he hugged me very strongly said, " I knew you will do it." You will be in my mind and heart I am sending you lots of love ❤️ You daughter Farah (Fulla)