How does it work that a child flees with her family from war torn Afghanistan, hiding out briefly in the crime ridden slums of Pakistan, to the USA where she is afraid to check the mail because the drug dealers next door look at her funny, and must sit crouched trembling on the night before Eid, in the corner of her bedroom because bullets flew through her bedroom wall, mere inches from her head?
When the war in Iraq was still a debate I remember a reporter’s interview with a man in a troubled slum in Chicago about his take on the war on t-rror. I’ll never forget his response “Its strange to fight t-rrorism there when we have t-rrorism here in Chicago” Interested, the reporter leaned in “You mean, you know of t-rrorist cells?” He responded “Yes, they are the gangs doing drive bys and killing our children with their stray bullets, they are the drug dealers who keep our youth numb and broke. We should get these t-rrorists, they’re the reasons we lie in fear each night, the reason most of our men don’t live past 24″
Yes, we should. Eid Mubarak Madiha. I wish I could take you away from it all but I can’t, and I am so sorry Madiha.