“I do, with much content, support Jordan’s role in fighting what’s called ISIS” – Jordanians on the Bombings of IS

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Moath Al-Kassasbeh

The world remains passive and unable to respond, it seems, while IS are slaughtering their way across the Middle East. But after the horrifying killing of the Jordanian pilot Moath Al-Kassabeh a new actor picked up weapons to fight the multi headed dragon: the Jordanian king.

Maybe it’s just the royal PR, but news went out that king Abdullah himself went up in the air to bomb IS, and that the Jordanian airforce intensified bombings against IS as a response to the murder. More than that, they quickly executed a few convicts and alleged terrorists, among them Sajida Al-Rishawi, who had been on death row for a failed suicide attempt since 2005, and whose appeal was still in process. The video footage of Al-Kassabeh reached internet on February 3rd, and Al-Rishawi and Al-Karbouly were hanged in the early hours of February 4th. The justice in these hastened decisions can definitely be questioned. In the war against IS it seems however that all normal rules are out of order. And Jordan seems to be the only actor at the moment this is willing – and able to? – take up the fight against IS. For a comment on this, I asked two of my close friends who are Jordanians, Rasha and Rami who are married, about their opinions. They have been working and studying in different regions all over the world and are currently living outside of Jordan.

“I am with the government in bombing ISIS because they are a real threat to Jordan and the region, but I am really worried about the consequences of this war”, Rasha said. “About Moath, when I knew that he was captured by ISIS, I expected he will be killed. However, I don’t expect him to be burned alive… When ISIS released the video about killing him, my heart broke. I was a little relieved when the government executed Sajida and the other guy who were sentenced to death long time ago and started a revenge for him. I was happy because Jordanian united against ISIS and we didn’t have a chaos in Jordan.”

Her husband Rami was even more decisive:

I do, with much content, support Jordan’s role in fighting what’s called ISIS. This gang has been committing brutal crimes against humanity and somebody has to stop them! Their barbarian acts of executing journalists, humanitarian field workers and, lately, the Jordanian pilot have revealed their insanity and lack of any ethical and humanitarian principle… They are a real threat to the region and their distorted ideology is a major threat to humanity.

Maybe this united force will be a turning point in the war against IS? I don’t know myself. But we are definitely onto a new path in this international crisis.

Photocredit: en.alalam.ir

Sameera My African Friend in Amman

Amman“You want to go see my friends? They’re African, they speak good English” my neighbor in Amman asked me one Thursday afternoon years back. In the sleepy little area we lived there were not a big variety among the neighbors, so I became curious and tagged along.

Long before that, no one knew when, the father of Sameera and her sisters left his country Nigeria, supposedly to go to Mekka, travelling by land for several months until he came to Jordan. For some reason, if money went out or whatever it could have been, Sameera’s father decided to stay there for a while. Back then Amman was just a village and foreigners a rarity, so rare that the authorities quite soon offered him a passport. There were a few other Africans in Amman though, and someone pointed out the houses to him: “Here lives an African family!” And so he met Sameera’s mother whose father originated from the Ivory Coast, and for a while became a lifetime; he never saw Nigeria again.

Sameera was cool and smart, too broad in her mind for the suburb where she had lived all her life. Her father, illiterate himself, decided that his six daughters were going to be educated, and sent them to college. To his son and other people he said: “No one is going to tell my daughters anything”. Probably he was the one to blame for their independency that stayed present even after he and their mother had passed away. They all worked and made their own money, only one of them getting married, to a Kenyan man that she said respected her freedom. The others saying they didn’t want the burden of being controlled. Sameera and her sisters fully identified as Africans, sticking to African satellite channels and music, even though they had never been. Later on, with the UN moving in big-scale to Amman the city became more international, with foreign women dressing in tank tops and Starbucks popping up in street corners. But the international vibes of a city often has a way of not reaching the original citizens, the ones limited by the conservative ways of condemning those different African girls that lived by themselves, worked for themselves, dressed in modern clothes.

I always had a good time at Sameera’s place and I wanted her to come visit me in Beirut when I went to stay there the upcoming year. She was up for it after some persuading. Collecting her best outfits, she called me a number of times before she left; “Can I have white jeans in Beirut? That’s cool there?”, and took a shared taxi for the eight hours ride.

She cried the first evening on my balcony and I got perplexed: what was wrong? But it was just the free spirit of Lebanon and the mixture of people that she saw. She was no longer the odd one; she was just one among many. “I’m sad because of all the beautiful things I see, I see nothing of this is in Amman”, she said.

That weekend was the best, we had so much fun. It was Beirut in the summer in the mid-2000s: clubs were open until the morning, people could still afford going out, Tiesto and Amr Diab was the DJs choice for the night. Our exotic appearance, the blonde girl and the black, was priceless. We didn’t pay entrance anywhere, the Buddha Bar DJ invited us to party with his crew, not understanding why such an urban girl like Sameera didn’t drink or wanting to date, and Sameera acted like she was born in the cosmopolitan city, showing off her amazing dancing skills that she rarely got to practice, pretending she was American when someone asked (“Hey I ain’t gonna see them again!”). When we grew tired of the company we told them we were going home, then hopped into a cab and went to the next club.

We’re not in touch anymore why I don’t share her real name or photo. But I hope she would agree on me sharing her story, because being a minority is never easy and she was a person that showed someone can grow different from her society and still remain her integrity, becoming the special person that she was. Or as Sameera said once, to a taxi driver in Amman that criticized her for being a Muslim and not covering herself:

Ammo, I am a Muslim and when I read the Qur’an and decide that I will cover, at that time I will cover. Until then I will mind my own business, and you mind yours.”

Photo credit: http://www.primetravels.com