Let me share with you my memories.

I remember once when my dad was driving in downtown Bagdad and we passed a narrow street that led into a larger square. I was in the front seat of the car and pointed up toward the demolished building and asked him, “What happened?”

There was a foggy air around this once-tall building—now half its size—that made me recall the many dust storms that occupied the city every now and then.

“It is because of the Iran-Iraq War,” he said with a low voice, as we turned the corner.

That was the first time I had seen destruction of that magnitude.

I remember clinging to my mother in the basement of my uncle’s house in Suleymania in northern Iraq. I remember my relatives curled around candles, waiting for the loud noises...

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