I was born in Baghdad, Iraq in 1964. We were forced to leave that thoroughly sad country in 1969 because of the problems that arose there. And so my troubled Father took us to Beirut. Life in Beirut was not exactly a wonderful place to be in: soon the bombings started to increase; snipers firing randomly against anyone they may see; electricity and water cut off; school being cancelled for weeks.

By April, 1975 the civil war had properly broken out and the so-called soldiers were killing anyone and anywhere who happened to be in the wrong place and at the wrong time. It was terrible: you simply did not know when you would be shot at or blown to shreds by a missile or bomb. As a child I didn’t understand the politics; all I understood was that the determined, blind and merciless powers of death and mutilation were around each and every one of us. To read the entire book, click Here (PDF)

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