Sunday, April 25, 2010

My life without me.....By Zahra.B

I am alive… I have repeated this sentence so many times during the last days, and you will probably know why, if you have followed my recent posts.
Now, after experiencing such a horrible thing, I realize what does having more days to live, mean.

I knew my limits, they were much restricted than the ones I set to myself; my rights, the lost ones. I knew the feeling of insecurity, the feeling of being alone to fight and I finally realized that at my 22 years old, I can’t start a war, I have to do with small battles till I get much stronger than this.

The idea of being my auto-defender was a hypothesis that I confirmed after this event.
Today, 21 days after the famous night that taught me the hard way to count on one and only one person: myself, I don’t feel ok.
Nor my family either my friends or lover gave a shit to whether my physical or my emotional pains.
This is not hard. It is just killing.

I am disgusted of people, of the Algerian system, of the associations of help that wait for you to die to do something, I am disgusted of those I loved and cared about who left me when I needed them.
I am disgusted of my incapacity to act, of my tears, of the awful feelings I have, of the nightmares filling what used to be my nice moments of sweet dreams.
And I am so sorry to see my life going without me….
I miss my smile, my energy, my hard working spirit, my shining days, my dreams, the ones I left and the ones that left me.
I miss being myself. I miss getting back to a normal life. I miss getting up in the morning with a positive thinking without remembering again that part of my human being existence that had gone forever.
I, honestly, miss so many other things that may be for you are so banal, so usual, so evident but which became for me needs that I am not able to satisfy.
It seems that Maslow has created a weird pyramid. Except breathing, there is no other need I will reach being a third world citizen.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

JUSTICE......By Zahra.B

What you are going to read is for sure the most surprising and astonishing story I have never write on my blog.
This story isn’t the fruit of my imagination. This story is true… It is the story that changed my whole vision to the world.
Here are the facts:

Monday 5th of April 2010. 9 pm.
In my room, I lanced Skype waiting for my OGX members to be online to discuss what they have been doing during the last three days in the tasks of exchange I gave to each one of them.
9:15pm. some of them are online so we decided to start… Fella and Manel were with me...
I started by giving some more explanations… at the moment I was doing that, I didn’t know that this night was going to be almost the last night of my existence.
Now, that I survived, this night was for me the end of 22 years of gentle and nice behavior toward people and the beginning of a new life for me, in which I will know how to make justice with my own hands.
9:30 pm. My uncle enters my room without requesting. I start already to get mad.
He asks me why I closed the door of my room. I give explanations, even though, I don’t have too.

He starts to play the role of “God number 2”, I get extremely mad. I stand up and tell him in a nice way that my own space isn’t his affair and I can do in it whatever I want.
With this last sentence, I don’t remember many things from what I said after that.
But I remember well those big hands punching my face with all the force they got. I tried to resist and to defend myself, but I was too weak for that.
I tried after that to scream “Help, help!!” but no one came to rescue me, and the hitting started to get savage and wild. I could hardly take my breath with all this body sitting on my face with the hands on my lips trying to make me stop shouting.
Grandparents tried to help but they just wasted their energy.
He pushed my grandfather who fell on the floor and couldn’t stand up. Grand mom was deeply hurt in both of her arms.

Then... He stood up from this comfortable sofa mainly made of my face and shoulders and started kicking the left part of my face with his feet – with the shoes on-
I don’t know with which miracle I could run till the door of the house to fall in the street, but he was just behind me and took me from my hair dragging me across the street.
I kept screaming for help but as the Arab say: “no life for the one you are calling for”.

People were looking at me and no one put a small finger to help.
When I reached the stairs of my house and saw the door going to be closed, with me lying on the floor, dragged from my hair. I swear, I didn’t remember anyone. I forgot about my whole life, I forgot even about God, the last thing that came to my mind was: “it was nice to have you as a part of this world, Zahra”.
Fortunately for me, I was wearing a small jacket, once he started taking me from it, I had enough intelligence to remove the jacket and run… but where too. I was already so weak to reach the next police office.
I looked left and right, I saw a door, it was opened...I just entered… it was the house of one of my neigbours.

She started to put ice on my face and giving me medicines to stop the pains I was and I still feeling in my head while the criminal was free out in the street asking them to let him kill me.
As he took the phone from me, I couldn’t call anyone, with some courage; I remembered my mom’s number who was 300 km far from me. I called her and asked her to come quickly because I am going to die.
I spent the night thinking of what I can probably do to save my life. At 6 am, I took my laptop with two books, and left like a thief. My destination: nowhere. I don’t know anyone in the capital expect some few people that don’t even hold my nationality.

I knocked my friend’s door at 7am. He was with a big help. After going to his office, he sent me with a taxi to the hospital but I unfortunately couldn’t do anything there when I reached it.
I sat in the entry of the emergency service and kept looking at people. I think I was enough destroyed to give up the medical care.
At this moment my mother reached the hospital from her trip. She saw me, came running, took me from my hand to start going through all the kind of analyses starting with the neurosurgery to stop the pain I was having in all my head and my face.

Once done with this; we went home and I couldn’t complain because the police in such cases don’t do that much. I tried to have information and it seems that justice doesn’t do anything until you lose your life.
What happened to me was a true injury. Today, my face is no longer the one you see on my profile on which I draw a cute smile.
With the changes of my face, my heart also changed and changed a lot. Today, I know that I am the only one to help myself.
I know that people never thank you for anything nice you do for them. This same person that destroyed me is the one that my mom saved from death at the same period last year.

For the anniversary of his accident, his only way to thank my mom who left her job to look after him was to send me to the same hospital with no one to look after me.
I know also that there is no justice in this country. Most of people are happy for what happened to me, because it is a good way to break my career at one month from the end of my studies.

I can congratulate all of them because I am so morally destroyed. My headache is getting worse especially when I cry.
But whatever…. What they don’t know is that this event is going to be the beginning of a war that I will absolutely win by making justice on my own in a close time.
I don’t care about my face anymore, Ibrahim is no longer part of my life and he is the only one my heart was beating for. I don’t care about what all people might think I have done. I already know that I am accused of immoral behavior for which I deserved to be hit this way but one thing is sure, my tears didn’t go down for free and “will laugh well, who will laugh at the end”.

From this bed that I will leave soon, I thank all of you for your calls and care.