Thank Goodness It's Friday

Unlike many people waking up on the sounds of chirping birds, commercial planes or noises of construction works, I have started to be awakened on the sound of the muezzin, not to notify me and other worshippers in the neighbourhood about times for prayers, as his job specifications stipulate, but to announce recent deaths so that men could run to the mosque to offer the funeral prayer and escort the newly killed body to the nearest cemetery. I have developed a habit of counting how many announcements are made per week and hoping that the muezzin will not say, "THE HAPPY MARTYR has left for the afterlife", a phrase denoting the fact that the deceased was killed by militias. I gave a sigh of relief when he did not mention these scary words in a recent announcement. Sadly, step-dad joined the prayer as he always do and saw the poor man's body, the skull was severed, right eye poked and front teeth removed. No need to say happy martyrs, because there are plenty of them, any recent death is just a statistic that adds up to our bewilderment and pain.

It was not news to me when I noticed such announcements are never made on Fridays, not only because it's an official Islamic holiday, and not because Fridays are the militias' Sabbath, it is because of the blessed state-imposed curfew, which has given families a chance to gather without worrying about possible excruciating deaths of their loved ones.

I never liked Fridays. As a child born to a broken family, this very day of the week meant dad's visiting rights, which I hated; to make things easier, mum used to tell me "once you turn 15, you will decide whether to go or not". She lied to me; I was not able to decide until the age of 19 or so. But now that I'm no longer forced to see my dad and I'm aware that innocent lives are not usually killed on this day, I think I'm ready to change my mind.

I was on the phone with a friend of mine, who was forced to stop going to her workplace because of the worsening security situation. She seemed to be enjoying the unemployment life, because, "I'm spending more time in the kitchen, making some great dishes and fish to my family," she beamed.

Startled by the mention of fish, I advised her to avoid this Iraqis' all-time favourite delicacy, because it is believed that if one eats it and gets emotional after hearing some bad news, s/he might have rashes all over the body, and heart-breaking news have become so regular.

"No, not to worry, we actually have it on Fridays," she assured me.





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