(1/3) I was six years old when the war broke out in Iraq, so my memories of events are very fragmented. I do remember being in an underground part of my grandparents’ house during what I now know were airstrikes.
For a six-year old, not knowing what was really happening, it was actually fun. It was nice to be able to stay up late, and to have everyone – my grandparents, my cousins, my uncles and aunties – all in the same room. Afterwards, my cousins and I would go outside and collect the empty bullet casings on the ground . . .