Today I have to perform a sad duty; the funeral and commemoration of a much loved family member, the favourite aunt of my husband.
Jessy was a nurse for most of her live. She took care of war veterans of WWII and the Vietnam war in New Zealand.
She died peacefully in a hospital bed surrounded 24 hours a day in the last three days of her live by us her family. She was 91 and ready to go.
Her live had been good and full, and until the very last moment she was a strong independent woman.
So today we mourn her passing and we celebrate her live. We who have never seen a days war in our lives. We who expect to live our lives to the full with nothing other than an accident or an illness to cut short our lives.
Just imagine that. Nobody will invade our country because we are too far away from everything and we don’t live on top of oil, or something else that a country with a huge army wants, and takes what it wants without regard of who lives on top of what it wants. In fact it is quit happy to shoot, torture or kill in other horrible ways those that object to being occupied by a hostile greedy nation, that used an attack on their own soil as an excuse to invade, even though your country had nothing to do with those attacks.
Today as I grief Jessy, I leave you with the Winter soldiers of 2008, as they testify to the brutal occupation they were ordered into and had to partake in.
The Iraqis you see were not so lucky, they lived on top of oil, and America wants it, you see. Iraq had nothing to do with the attacks of 911, but than neither had Afghanistan, it just so happened they had stopped growing opium, and the Taliban had refused to sign a contract allowing America to build a bloody great pipeline for oil through their country.
Just imagine your favourite aunty with perhaps you favourite nephew driving her to the market because since the invasion of your country the extreme Christians in your country had taken over and deemed a woman alone in a car a sin against god (We only were allowed out alone for say the last 1oo years and we only got the voting right until much much later, and I remember when my mother wanted to learn how to drive a car she was ridiculed as were most women, because women were unfit to drive, and her wish to have her own job and earn her own money cost her, her marriage, in fact in my native Holland to this day there are numerous ultra Christian groups that forbid their women to work out of house, drive a car, go out unchaperoned by a male relative, be alone with a male in her own home without another female relative, and use her right to vote, and who consider the male to be the head of the house.) and as your favourite aunty and nephew drive through the mainstreet, the get caught up in a US raid on their city. You hear about the raid from one of your neighbours who is lucky to be alive, and your long wait begins. You hope against all hope that your aunty and your nephew (Let’s give them some names shall we, they are like us human beings, they are called Aisha and Yousef) are just stuck somewhere and you stay awake all night to see the if the light in the apartment across the street gets turned on, but it stays dark and you hope it’s just another blackout, but you know better because other apartments have their lights on, and in the morning you get out and you search hospital after hospital, morgue after morgue, and when you’re are finally lucky enough to find them, you will see their bodies riddled with bullets, and pain in their faces, and you know they died alone and all you can do is wash them and bury, that is if you are a male because as a woman in your occupied country with extremist Christians you can’t even do that, you have to stay at home and wait when and if the men will come home.
Or perhaps in Afghanistan you will be at a wedding with all your family and there is music and dance and the bride and the groom look radiant and you’re so happy because it is for the first time that you can sit with the men of your tribe because you finally old enough to be with them, and you look proudly at your your favourite aunty and she looks back at you and you can see that she is proud of you coming of age, and your father gives you his gun and you are allowed, for the first time to fire the celebratory gun shots, but than all of a sudden a US or NATO fighter jet flies over and you see with horror the sprays of bullets hitting the women, your favourite aunty pushed back by the bullets hitting her and your young favourite niece who looked so wonderful in her new dress looses half her head when a bullet hits her and the men run towards them and the second plane kills your father, your father who was also your best friend who taught you everything you know and with his gun you fire in rage after the jets who have long since gone, and when the silence returns there is only wailing and screaming and blood.
The next day we read in our corporately owned newspapers, that US jets have taken out a major Taliban leader, and only three days later on page four a small article appears correcting that story.
As I grief for my husbands favourite aunty Jessy who died peacefully surrounded by her family please give this a thought, and ask your self the question why are we involved in an illegal war of aggression, and why are none of our political leaders addressing this sad and horribly wrong issue. Because it has to stop.
For more testimonies just click on one of the videos.