Playing Atari with Saddam Hussein: Chapters 1–4

The sun has set. I can still discern the outlines of the date and palm trees in the yard and the gray stone privacy wall that surrounds our house.

Beyond the wall is our city of Basra, wrapped in an eerie silence, waiting.

“I’m back,” my younger brother says, careening into the room. “Shireen made me go get this heavy basket. What’s in here, anyway—rocks?”

“No, it’s a picnic,” Shireen says. “Flatbread, tomatoes, olives, hummus, and Coca-Colas. And date cookies for dessert.”

Everyone knows you can’t just go and take over someone else’s country. But my president did it anyway.
So President George Bush and a bunch of other world leaders have formed a coalition to stop Saddam and take back Kuwait.

Saddam’s people are everywhere. One of the members of his government lives on our street. We have to be extra careful. A cloud of paranoia hangs over our neighborhood games.

“Your son,” they’ll say to Mama, “he’s exactly like you!”
“On the outside, yes,” my mother will respond. Serious and stoic, she is a respected professor of mathematics.

Baba left his small rural town in northern Iraq and worked his way through university and dental school.

“This is the Voice of America!” a newscaster blares from the battery-powered radio, waking up Ahmed and Shireen and making me jump.

Shireen lets out a wail. “They said Baghdad,” Ahmed retorts scornfully. “We’re in Basra. Dummy.”

Shireen lets out a wail. “They said Baghdad,” Ahmed retorts scornfully. “We’re in Basra. Dummy.”

Shireen lets out a wail. “They said Baghdad,” Ahmed retorts scornfully. “We’re in Basra. Dummy.”

The Voice of America drones on about the planes that are cutting a swath through western Iraq to get to Baghdad, our capital city.

The Voice of America drones on about the planes that are cutting a swath through western Iraq to get to Baghdad, our capital city.

“Yeah.” I sigh. Saddam wants to take Kuwait’s oil, worth billions of dollars. The money likely won’t be used to feed our people, but to feed his ego.

So now what does Saddam Hussein do? He sends our army to invade Kuwait.
Which is against all international rules, and the reason that group of countries has formed an alliance to get Saddam out of Kuwait and to punish him.

A voice on the radio is saying something about American “smart bombs,” with technology for “pinpoint accuracy” in taking out military targets.

These smart bombs are designed to reduce “collateral casualties,” which means the Americans will do their best not to kill innocent people.

These smart bombs are designed to reduce “collateral casualties,” which means the Americans will do their best not to kill innocent people.

He places weapons on the roofs of school buildings, hospitals...anywhere innocent civilians may be, so he can use them as human shields.

When the enemy tries to destroy military capabilities, including these improvised ones, like schools and hospitals, well, that’s when Saddam goes on TV and says, “Look how evil our enemies are—killing children and sick people!”

War is no joke, and the coalition that’s attacking us is not kidding. The bombs and guns and sirens are relentless. Our house is shaking so hard that I’m scared it might collapse.

Instead I start to make a list in my head of things that I like.
Dolma grape leaves stuffed with meat and rice and spices. Chicken soup. Baklava pastry with chopped nuts and honey...yum.

The ancient civilizations of Sumer and Mesopotamia were built on our soil, where the first cities were created and where the wheel and the oldest known system of writing—cuneiform—were invented.

And now all that history is being bombed to bits.
Reality strikes a dagger into my heart, and the fear that I’ve been trying so hard to stave off floods my being.