UKH Trip to Halabja

          When I quickly walked into university on the rainy early morning of the 17^th of March, I became really happy and excited to see that number of students who were waiting in the rain for the buses to come and pick them up for the trip. But this time was different, it wasn’t a trip to Maseef of Dukan for picnicking and dancing; it was a trip to the city that introduced Kurds and Kurdistan to the world, to the city of the immortal martyrs: it was to Halabja.

 I was excited and yet drowned with sorrow because I knew that our five-hour’ drive will take us to a place where every inch of it witnessed a genocide 24 years ago. But the students of UKH are not apart from the Kurdish spirits of survival, hope and happiness. On the way there, we sang the Kurdish anthem, old poems and songs about nature and beauty until we arrived Sulemany.  Eating breakfast at a casual restaurant of Sulemani on that snowy and windy day of the city meant the whole world to the students and me. 

 

Then we headed off to Halabja, as we entered the city we saw the shattered walls, old houses neighboring the new buildings and the green mountains guarding the city at the back. At first we went to the graveyard of the martyrs of the genocide and put flowers of respect on their graves to honor their deaths. Some of the students were sad while some were faking a smile for a picture and others were visiting the graves. After a while, we went to the monument: the historical museum that embodies hundreds of tragic pictures of the dead and burned kids, mothers and old men. In one of the halls of the museum we watched a video that was recorded two days after the attack. The pictures, the video and the statues of the victims made us sad and depressed. And yet they made us to renew our sense of patriotism; the stories that we heard from one of the survivors there made us to remember who we are. 

 

The students were all busy with taking pictures in front of the victims’ pictures on the walls and the flags of Kurdistan. Then, driving for a short time in the city to see the ruins of the attack and yet to witness the developing and revival Halabja. At six o’clock of that cold evening, the heading- off to Hawler was the end of our trip to Halabja. 

 

Written by: Hawar Majid ( access year 2 student )