It was a beautiful spring day 1993. I was aged 5 back then. Iraq was not in its most stable condition due to the sanctions and the backlash of the wars it partook in. However politics did not concern me back then. I remember standing behind the school building. Aged 5 looking at my results for an exam they had forced us to take. I stared at it in resentment. 5 out of 10... the teacher had congratulated me as if I had accomplished something. Yet even back then I had shunned mediocrity. Tears were slowly seeping through my eyes as i tried to hold them back. I grabbed the piece of paper and ripped it apart with fury never to be seen in one so young. I had hid my emotions when I had received it, but now I was alone. No one came here behind the school building. I was free to confront the ambitious backlash of my temperament. An angry face, an embarrassed face. A mind so egocentric, that I did not bare to look myself in the mirror. Nor inform anyone of my grades, the embarrassment would of killed me. I wanted to excel, prove myself worthy. I wanted to standout from the others. But the prince stood in my way. He seemed like an average child. He was my enemy. Not because I had chosen it to be. But his status automatically excelled him above the others. He was simply known as the prince. He was Saddam Hussein's nephew.
His arrogant eyes would dart throughout the class. No one was able to stand to him. The teachers themselves shook with fear. He was so young yet so powerful. Children are unpredictable, and anybody that was involved with the corrupt government of the time would of had to obey him. He had always gotten a 10/10. In every single exam. Till this day I don't know if he was a prodigy or if he was being given special treatment. But that spring an opportunity arose in the form of a sprinting race. If I was able to beat him I would of beaten them all.
Now I know you might think I am demonizing this young innocent child of 5. But he was the first enemy that I have ever had. He was a little shit. The person that caused my first ever philosophical dilemma; Man's inhumanity to man. He was a fast a runner. However luckily I knew that I was faster. I had gotten plenty of experience running away from my uncle. Oh so many times did he want to kick my ass. And I was always able to out run him. If I was able to outrun a full grown man in his twenties then I would definitely be able to outrun this little demon. We were paired to race against each other. I remember my heart leaping with glee at the prospect, what luck I had. To be instantly paired to race him! The teacher had read my mind.
Go!! shouted the P.E. teacher. There I was, one with the wind. As fast as my small legs could take me, I ran, the fastest I had ever ran in my whole life. There I was, the wind blowing my light brown hair whilst flickered against my squinting eyes. It shielding me from the strong gaze of the Mesopotamian sun. I touched the wall(checkpoint) and prepared to run back. I noticed the whole class jump with applause. I was ahead. I looked back at him with glee. I was looking behind me whilst running... Simultaneous! Before I had realized it everything was once again stationary... All I could hear was a ringing in my ear. No sound what so ever. I fell to my knee's. I had ran into a pole. The class went silent and cringed. Thats when I realized life's a bitch! Especially when it smacks you in the balls and makes you lose to Saddam's nephew. I was lying on the floor holding my little 5 year old balls as I writhed in pain. He had won the race.
Later that day after the class was over. The student's were given a break to relax. "My friend..." He said to me as he slowly approached. That's what he always called me... I had fallen for it a few times but I was wise. He placed his arm around my shoulders and led me around talking to me with intimacy. Deceptive and vehement were his methods. I knew what was coming next. For each and every time he had acted like this he would produce a unprovoked attack. He had done so on two previous occasions. Pushing me to the hard, and burning surface of the Iraqi school yard. The Ground was hot, burning with the fury of the sun. Standing on it barefoot would force one to jump in pain. I had predicted his deception. So I took it upon me to act interested at first. Once again he walked with me. Preaching of our valuable friendship. And just as I had sensed he was about to push me to the ground. I quickly and with a swift and determined shove, threw him to the floor. I had never enjoyed hurting others. But in that moment I had tasted vengeance. Oh how sweet it was. Absolutely indescribable. That was the first time anyone in the whole school had ever seen him cry. And the first time anyone had ever defied him. The teacher ran towards me with complete fear in her eyes. She trembled and whispered with a faint voice "What have you done! Do you know who that is! Now we might all be in trouble!". She then proceeded to approach him in an attempt to comfort him.
What followed was a confrontation with his agents. And an indication of how my future could of turned out if my father had not brought me to Britain. I still remember that day when I had stood victorious whilst a voice in my head whispered "The prince has fallen!"
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