On Jan. 7, 2005, while on assignment for the Christian Science Monitor, freelance reporter Jill Carroll was kidnapped in Baghdad. Her translator, Alan Enwiyah, was murdered. On Jan. 17, Carroll's captors issued a statement demanding that the United States free all female Iraqi prisoners in U.S. custody, and threatened to kill Carroll if their demand was not met within 72 hours.
One of few foreign women still working in Iraq, Carroll was made especially aware of the perils she faced after her close friend, Marla Ruzicka, a Californian aid worker, was killed in an ambush last April. In a remembrance of Ruzicka, published last year on AlterNet, Carroll offered these prescient words:
"The only thing we can say now is at least she died doing what she wanted, doing what she really, really believed in. If she were still here, she'd be most worried now about her driver's family and who will take care of all the other Iraqi families she was working with. She would point out, this happens to Iraqis every day and no one notices or even cares. There are no newspaper articles or investigations into what happens to them."
Jill Carroll, deprived of control over the smallest aspect of existence, feared for her life every day.
Nearly overwhelmed with grief and guilt over the murder of her friend and interpreter, Jill somehow summoned up the courage she needed to stay alive and keep her captors interested in keeping her alive - by doing what she does best. Her chief captor required his journalist hostage to "interview" him for hours at a time. He would expound on the insurgent worldview and the ruling council set up by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.
In her last hours of captivity this man told her: "Forget about the council. You can't talk about the women or the children. You have to say you were in one room the whole time. Everything is forbidden. You must forget it all."
How could she, how can she forget?
How could we forget Jill Carroll's courage, selflessness, devotion to the Iraqi people and her trial by fire after being released from captivity and returning home to the United States?
My chief captor had an idea about how to prod the US government into action: another video.
He said this one would be different, and left.
I turned to the two guards sitting on cushions a few feet away and started to panic. Really, really panic.
"Oh my God, oh my God, they're going to kill me, this is going to be it. I don't know when but they're going to do it," I thought.
I crawled over to Abu Hassan, the one who seemed more grown-up and sympathetic. His 9mm pistol was by his side, as usual.
"You're my brother, you're truly my brother," I said in Arabic. "Promise me you will use this gun to kill me by your own hand. I don't want that knife, I don't want the knife, use the gun."
Source: The Christian Science Monitor
During Jill's long days of captivity, there were prayer vigils around the world. Candles burned in innumerable homes, and there were yellow ribbons tied around trees in her hometown. Hope may sustain us, but Jill, in her darkest hours, felt the weight of guilt over the murder of her friend and interpreter, Alan Enwiya.
Thank You for the Music...
When I first heard about the abduction of Christian Science Monitor journalist Jill Carroll a week ago, I remember feeling regret. It was the same heavy feeling I get every time I hear of another journalist killed or abducted. The same heavy feeling that settles upon most Iraqis, I imagine, when they hear of acquaintances suffering under the current situation.
I read the news as a subtitle on tv. We haven't had an internet connection for several days so I couldn't really read about the details. All I knew was that a journalist had been abducted and that her Iraqi interpreter had been killed. He was shot in cold blood in Al Adil district earlier this month, when they took Jill Carroll... They say he didn't die immediately. It is said he lived long enough to talk to police and then he died.
I found out very recently that the interpreter killed was a good friend- Alan, of Alan's Melody, and I've spent the last two days crying.
Everyone knew him as simply 'Alan', or "Elin" as it is pronounced in Iraqi Arabic. Prior to the war, he owned a music shop in the best area in Baghdad, A'arasat. He sold some Arabic music and instrumental music, but he had his regular customers - those westernized Iraqis who craved foreign music. For those of us who listened to rock, adult alternative, jazz, etc. he had very few rivals.
He sold bootleg CDs, tapes and DVDs. His shop wasn't just a music shop- it was a haven. Some of my happiest moments were while I was walking out of that shop carrying CDs and tapes, full of anticipation for the escape the music provided. He had just about everything from Abba to Marilyn Manson. He could provide anything. All you had to do was go to him with the words,"Alan- I heard a great song on the radio... you have to find it!" Andhe'd sit there, patiently, asking who sang it? You don't know? Ok- was it a man or a woman? Fine. Do you remember any of the words? Chances were that he'd already heard it and even knew some of the lyrics.
It hit me then that it wasn't the music that made Alan's shop a haven- somewhere to forget problems and worries- it was Alan himself.
He loved Pink Floyd.
From river at Baghdad Burning.
Did you see the frightened ones?
Did you hear the falling bombs?
Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter
When the promise of a brave new world
Unfurled beneath the clear blue sky?
Did you see the frightened ones?
Did you hear the falling bombs?
The flames are all long gone, but the pain lingers on.
Goodbye, blue sky
Goodbye, blue sky.
Goodbye. Goodbye. --Pink Floyd
158 journalists and media assistants have been killed since the start of fighting in Iraq in March 2003, two still missing, 12 reported kidnapped.
Jill Carroll's story in her own words beginshere.
Jill Carroll, the journalist held hostage for nearly three months in Iraq last year, has returned to the Middle East to report for the Christian Science Monitor, a newspaper spokesman said Wednesday. Carroll has been working out of Cairo, Egypt, since last month, Monitor spokesman Jay Jostyn said.
Source: Reporters Without Borders.
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