![Things Are Not “Normal” In Benghazi
That’s my uncle in the photo above (on the right) at the Libyan people’s answer to Gaddafi’s Million Man March (which reports say didn’t exceed more than 10,000). Demonstrations broke out in Benghazi (where my uncle is), Misrata, Tobruk, Darna and other liberated cities. Mustafa Abdul Jalil, NTC leader, also took the time to address crowds and reminded them not to allow our revolution devolve into a violent cycle of revenge and vigilantism.
The mood in Benghazi, which has been liberated from regime rule since February 19th, is mercurial. DSL internet was finally reinstated a few days ago since it had been cut off by Gaddafi back in February, so we’ve been seeing increased internet activity, particularly on Facebook and Twitter, from the Libyans there and in other rebel-held cities. I got to talk to my uncle for the first time since my cousin Hamadi passed away in March at the hands of Gaddafi forces.
“You can’t describe the fearless feeling,” he wrote me, “after people started dying. Everyone felt like has (sic) to do something and felt fearless. [We] just wanted to stop them.”
My uncle was engaged to be married before the revolution, but the celebrations for his impending wedding have been postponed. They’re going to have a small modest ceremony in the Fall - nothing big, he says, because they’re still mourning the death of Hamadi.
I don’t know if I ever talked about the details of Hamadi’s death on this blog. He was shot in the head, unarmed, by Gaddafi forces. Him and some other young guys in their early 20s from the neighborhood had learned that a group of pro-Gaddafi soldiers were occupying the school across the street from my grandfather’s house. They heard that the soldiers were preparing for an attack on the neighborhood, and my cousin, among others, headed to the school to confront them. My cousin was instructed to kick down the door. The soldiers stormed out and shot him in the head.
This is the school where he was shot. A dedication to him has been painted on its walls - “The hero Ahmed Ali Herwees: you have left us in this physical world, but you are still in our hearts.”
Things are still not “normal” in Benghazi. I get irritated sometimes with some of the cutesy articles that emerge from there because they rarely reflect the gloomy malaise to which many of my family members in Benghazi have felt themselves prey. The stench of death and grief permeates the walls of every household. Not one family, says my cousin, hasn’t felt the cold sting of loss. A young man who’d come asked for her hand in marriage a few months ago had died in battle. One cousin’s entire group of friends were killed. They bitterly await the end of this war, this war that was never meant to be a war, this war that had its birth in revolution.
They won’t give up, though. They’re willing to fight until the end. Back in March, my aunt told me they were willing to fight for years if that’s what it took. She still stands by that.](http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_locj5kiq7v1qzatqbo1_500.jpg)
Things Are Not “Normal” In Benghazi
That’s my uncle in the photo above (on the right) at the Libyan people’s answer to Gaddafi’s Million Man March (which reports say didn’t exceed more than 10,000). Demonstrations broke out in Benghazi (where my uncle is), Misrata, Tobruk, Darna and other liberated cities. Mustafa Abdul Jalil, NTC leader, also took the time to address crowds and reminded them not to allow our revolution devolve into a violent cycle of revenge and vigilantism.
The mood in Benghazi, which has been liberated from regime rule since February 19th, is mercurial. DSL internet was finally reinstated a few days ago since it had been cut off by Gaddafi back in February, so we’ve been seeing increased internet activity, particularly on Facebook and Twitter, from the Libyans there and in other rebel-held cities. I got to talk to my uncle for the first time since my cousin Hamadi passed away in March at the hands of Gaddafi forces.
“You can’t describe the fearless feeling,” he wrote me, “after people started dying. Everyone felt like has (sic) to do something and felt fearless. [We] just wanted to stop them.”
My uncle was engaged to be married before the revolution, but the celebrations for his impending wedding have been postponed. They’re going to have a small modest ceremony in the Fall - nothing big, he says, because they’re still mourning the death of Hamadi.
I don’t know if I ever talked about the details of Hamadi’s death on this blog. He was shot in the head, unarmed, by Gaddafi forces. Him and some other young guys in their early 20s from the neighborhood had learned that a group of pro-Gaddafi soldiers were occupying the school across the street from my grandfather’s house. They heard that the soldiers were preparing for an attack on the neighborhood, and my cousin, among others, headed to the school to confront them. My cousin was instructed to kick down the door. The soldiers stormed out and shot him in the head.
This is the school where he was shot. A dedication to him has been painted on its walls - “The hero Ahmed Ali Herwees: you have left us in this physical world, but you are still in our hearts.”
Things are still not “normal” in Benghazi. I get irritated sometimes with some of the cutesy articles that emerge from there because they rarely reflect the gloomy malaise to which many of my family members in Benghazi have felt themselves prey. The stench of death and grief permeates the walls of every household. Not one family, says my cousin, hasn’t felt the cold sting of loss. A young man who’d come asked for her hand in marriage a few months ago had died in battle. One cousin’s entire group of friends were killed. They bitterly await the end of this war, this war that was never meant to be a war, this war that had its birth in revolution.
They won’t give up, though. They’re willing to fight until the end. Back in March, my aunt told me they were willing to fight for years if that’s what it took. She still stands by that.
