2 February 2004
By Angela Garcia

On January 11, 2004 we launched Bowling for Basra and it was a blast! Bowling for Basra is a fundraising event where bowlers collect pledges and donate them to families in Iraq. Pledges ranged from a penny to a dollar for each point or a flat pledge overall or for each strike. Participants are encouraged to bowl along with the official bowlers for additional fun. The bowlers were activist and not pro-bowlers so the point spread was low and the fun factor was high.

2 Februrary 2004

Saying Goodbye to Umm Haider and Mostafa; Saying Hello to Our Work of Resistance Here
by John Farrell

The time that I was fortunate to share with Umm Haider and Mostafa here in Chicago will be influential in my life for years to come. It completely changed my world view because, for a brief time, I shared time each day with someone who was a direct victim of US military aggression. continue…

Angela’s Reflections: Hamburgers with “nothing, nothing, nothing on it”
by Angela Garcia

Winter is a mark for change. It was time for reconstruction and for Um Haider and Mostafa to go home. The last few months were heavy with emotion. Our farewell lasted a week. continue…

• Backgrounf reading about Umm Haider and Mostafa please read Doug Hostetter’s Catching up with Mustafa and Umm Heider Years after a missile gone astray, one young life remains in limbo

• Photos of Um Haider’s Family
• Christopher Allen-Docot’s A Hajj not to Mecca but to Home, a story of Umm Haider and Mostafa’s trip home

By Raghad Toma

Missiles crashing, gun shooting, innocent people dying
and others crying, is what I had to face everyday.

Everyday we waited to see whether we are going to die
or stay alive and suffer.

My mom kisses me goodnight as I ask her “mom are we going to die”
As she hides her fears and says, “not to worry,
everything will be fine”

We all slept in one shelter with people that we hadn’t even met before,

Some were criminals and thieves. They would come up to us and say
“Give us your money or I will kill you.”

This was said to us in the middle of the bombing at night.

There wasn’t one day that passed by and my sister’s and I did not cry.

We cried for many things in our lives.

I cried for my dad, who had to go fight in the war,
I cried for my mom’s suffering,
I cried fearing for my life, my family’s life and my relatives.
I cried for being so unhappy,
I cried for being a kid and not being able to see or experience
kindergarten.

These were just few things that I cried for.

Being in war cost me everything,
house, money, cousins,
but nothing was compared with the later effects of US bombing of Iraq.

It cost me something that comes naturally and free to all people.
It cost me my happiness and the feeling of being safe.

Thanks to the ones who believe in war, and to the presidents that caused it.
And think that it is the answer to their problems

I have never been able to be normal ever again, not even 11 years later.
And I was told that I would stay the same if I don’t see a psychiatrist.
Which I finally agreed to do.

The only thing that I want in life before I die is a full
day with happiness and being normal.
I want my memory to erase from my brain.
I don’t want to get hurt anymore or live like this.
I just want to be normal.

That’s my story and how war affected me,
Imagine how many others it affected.
People ask me, how come I am sad or quiet often,
After all that I shared with you
Shouldn’t I be?
Now you tell me, what question is war a solution to?

Raghad Toma is 17 years old and now lives in Canada and attends Sheridan College in Mississauga.

By David Hilfiker
Christian Peacemaker Teams

“I’m not into the detainee business,” said Lt. Col. Nate Sassaman of the 1st Battalion, 8th Infantry Regiment, and commanding officer of the U.S. military base in the Yithrib District of Iraq in what has become known as the Sunni Triangle. “We’re really into rebuilding Iraq. I don’t like entering houses.”

I was surprised even to be having an interview with Col Sassaman. Ten of us, members of the Christian Peacemaker Team (CPT) located in Baghdad, had accompanied three Iraqi lawyers to the base from nearby Balad, a city in which 60,000 Shiite Muslims living in its central districts are surrounded by 60,000 Sunni Muslims. Without advance notice, accompanied by three unknown Iraqi men, it seemed unlikely to me that we would get access to the base, much less end! up in a ninety-minute interview with the commanding officer. When we heard that a captain had been killed the previous week inside the base by an insurgent mortar shell, I was even more surprised Col. Sassaman granted the interview.

The time that I was fortunate to share with Umm Haider and Mostafa here in Chicago will be influential in my life for years to come. It completely changed my world view because, for a brief time, I shared time each day with someone who was a direct victim of US military aggression. It was not always an easy thing for them to be here. One day, Umm Haider told me that when Mostafa first came here to the United States he was afraid of all police officers and airplanes. It’s easy enough for me to understand his fear of airplanes; his brother was killed and he himself was maimed by a US missile that dropped on them from above. Eventually, I came to understand his fear of police officers as an intuitive connection that he had made between the US governmental authority and what happened to him and his brother in Iraq. In Iraq during Mostafa’s childhood there was a secret police always looking to capture and kill those who opposed the government; logically, he assumed that the same aggression shown to his family by the United States missile attack would be reflected by the police force here in the US.
Mostafa