On the way to the morgue to get some details about the incident of Al Nosoor Square, We met a security contractors’ convoy on the other side of the street. I told my colleague, the driver “well brother, beware and don’t do anything unexpected. Watch the guys carefully and watch the Iraqi army check point. We might be shot simply brother and Im sure you don’t want that. We want to cover the story about dead people but we don’t want to experience death. Remember brother, we have families and they are waiting for us. I never imaged that the safety of others means our fears from being killed for nothing. It’s a horrible feeling. It’s a nightmare that will never end soon.

I don’t know how to express my feelings when Leila my boss and I visited the man who lost his wife in the incident of Al Nosoor Square 13 days ago. I saw him fighting his tears and he didn’t allow them to run away from his eyes. I could feel the difficulty he faced when he was talking. I could feel that he wanted to choose the best words to show his love to the woman who lived almost 40 years with him. When my boss asked him about the love story that ended with their marriage, he was speechless and he told her addressing us all“its like your love and your love and your love”.

I wished I can do something for him but I couldn’t. He asked me for one thing. He said “you can bring me a copy for the newspaper that publishes my story, otherwise, I would feel that you cheated me”. I apologized and said that I cant do that because the agency I work for is in the USA but I promised him to bring him a copy fro the story from the internet. The man accepted both my apology and offer.

Yesterday, I got a copy from the net and I went to his house. His son saw was out. I told him that I want to see his father. I saw the man. He looked even weaker than three days ago. He lost part of his life. The visit was very short. I said “well sir, I just want to give you this and I gave him the copy of the story. I saw sad smile on his face. A smile said “Thank you for bringing the story of the death of my love.”

When I was coming to work yesterday and while I was near the bridge that leads directly to one of the gate of the International Zone, I saw a convoy of one of the security contractors. I saw those men who hided their faces pointing their machineguns towards everyone while driving their four wheel vehicles are moving fast. I accelerated my steps towards a close turn so if any shooting happen, I didn’t want to be in the fight field.

An imaginary battle field was drawn quickly in my mind. A sad vision was moving in my head. I saw my body bleeding. I saw my family crying and my wife weeping. OMG. I can’t see my lovely child again. Who would tell my family about my death? Ok. Back to reality, I’m a live and the convoy with the hidden faces guards had gone. Thanks Allah, nothing happened and I could see my family again. Only one question stayed in my mind. How can man kill innocent people so simply?