Our plan is to go to areas in west Baghdad, areas that had mostly boycotted the last elections.

Areas that became hotbeds of insurgency.

And al Qaeda.

We drove on, one of our drivers, S, and myself alone in the car. Our car the only moving vehicle in sight.

Past Qadisiyah. Past Yarmouk. Past Jamiaa and Khadraa, we were stopped every 300 m by checkpoints, sometimes searching us and sometimes just checking our vehicle sticker permit and waving us on our way – We reach the checkpoint of Ameriyah.

We turn left and six Iraqi Army soldiers take aim – at us.

We stop.

"Where do you think you're going? There's curfew – no cars allowed on the streets!"

He walks up to us.

"We are journalists" S shouts, "We are here to speak to voters."

"Journalists???" Surprised faces – raised eye brows.

"Why? Are we the first journalists who have come here?"

"Yes."

After searching the car three times, searching my handbag six times, asking to check our non-existing cameras six times, three military vehicles drive up in respond to the checkpoint's call.

"We will let you pass – but we will send two soldiers with you – for your protection."

"You mustn't mind them, some of them are civilized and some just aren't." commented a traffic policeman standing nearby.

During these 45 minutes I saw five men arrive on foot, get searched and set off down the long road into Ameriyah. We followed.

Barbed wire across the wide street at every 50 to 75 m – no way could we have been able to move about if it weren't for the two soldiers. I felt guilty for disliking them when they were ordered out with us.

The area between each barbed wire and the next was turned into a small football fields with bricks marking the goals and young and older boys were playing – scores of them! They were having the times of their lives! We weaved through, every pair of eyes we passed focused on us, the lone car out during curfew, and stopped at  around 50 m from the voting centre.

"No media permitted! Where is your camera??" No cameras, I told him, just notebook and pen. He solemnly orders me away. "NO media." After trying to stare him down, and failing, I reluctantly start to move away, only to find my lovely, lovely protection – the two soldiers, come to the rescue and tell him that they are my escort, by orders of the Commander. He reluctantly moves away giving me room to speak to people walking out of the voting centre.

Risala, Um Atheer (a family of four; the mother, father and two young boys):

"We came to the centre with enthusiasm, but we didn't vote. We couldn't find our names. We were displaced from al Hurriyah, and were told that as long as our ration card was in Ameriyah, then that is where we should vote. This is the third centre we go to – and don't find our names. I don't want to lose my voice. I'm afraid that if I don't vote, my form will be used for me - to vote for God knows whom."

Abu Rami (with him were his three married sons):

"We are a displaced family. We were told that we could only vote where our ration card is issued. How do they expect us to go vote in the neighbourhood from which we were displaced? All the world knows that there are millions of Iraqis displaced inside Iraq – couldn't the Elections Commission place a box for the displaced in every centre? We have been issued IDs stating that we are displaced – Is corruption so wide spread that they don't trust their own IDs?? We wanted to vote for Ayad Allawi, maybe he can put this country back together again. He is a strong man and, I believe has no sectarian leanings. My three sons are jobless. Is it too much to ask that we live in our own homes and return to our jobs? That is all we ask"

Mohammed Allawi (young man, about 25 yrs):

"What optimism?? We are an occupied country. I am voting only so that my vote will not be stolen by the corrupt people who are willing to do anything to remain firm on their seats. But it seems I am not even considered an Iraqi citizen – I can't find my name anywhere - and my family has been in Ameriyah nearly forty years."

Two women (afraid to give their names):

"We couldn't vote! We couldn't find our names. We have been to two centres, and aim to go on looking until we find them or are too tired to go on."

Aymen Zamil (in a group of four men and two women):

"We haven't voted. We were displaced and have now returned. We went to more than one centre and couldn't find our names. They told us that more names will be forwarded after 3 (p.m.). They said that there is a list of miscellaneous names after 3 (p.m.). We will come back, but the women – they can't keep going back and forth."

Nemeer Mohammed – University graduate student:

"We are voting today with the hope of change. Change in everything – everything. Our lives have become a nightmare. We mustn't stand aside silent. We want security. We want harmony in our lives, this has been lost to us for so long now and we miss it. We want normal lives! I have voted for Allawi because he doesn't believe in the nonsense these Muslim pretenders have exploited to divide the Iraqi people." 

 A very old gentleman, walking with the aid of a walking stick and carrying a stool.

"Security – All we want is security. And justice. And the trust to return between our friends and neighbours. Trust is a blessing that we didn't value until we lost it. God bless Iraq! God bless Iraq and rid it of the gang that came in the wake of the foreign forces. I have voted for Saleh al Mutlag. Not that I expect too much of him, but who is better?"

Majid Jassim Mohammed:

"I came from Egypt to vote. I came with all my hopes and dreams. I want to vote to feel like an Iraqi citizen – But my name is nowhere to be found. I have been to three centres so far, and there are two more, I think. They told me to come after 3 (p.m.), that more names will be posted after 3 (p.m.)."

I love our two soldier friends. They are keeping a hawk's eye out for anyone who comes to shoo me away.

Many, if not most the voters are women. Some came in twos, some within whole families and many… each one by herself.

"I don't want my vote to be taken by someone else"

"I am doing what I have to do – and I leave the rest to God almighty."

"I am voting for Allawi's list. He is not sectarian."

"I am voting for Maliki's list. He has been able to achieve something – maybe not a lot – but something, which is more than the others can say."

"I will keep my choice to myself. The important thing is that I chose a person whom I feel has a patriotic spirit."

And many, many more in Ameriyah, the place looked like a picnic. And that did not prepare me for what I saw in Khadraa and Jamiaa.