There are children in Afghanistan, and Hiba Al Zahawi has a pretty good idea how they may feel huddled in their homes while military planes drone overhead.

Now a U student, Al-Zahawi was eight years old and living in Baghdad, Iraq, when a U.S. led United Nations coalition began dropping bombs on the capital in January of 1991.

That was 10 years ago, nearly to the day, but when asked if she remembers what it was like during the war, she?without even a hint of hesitation?replies, “Oh yeah. Oh yes, I do.”

After hearing her story, it is apparent why her answer comes so readily.

The Gulf War officially spanned from Jan. 16 to Feb. 28, 1991. It was a short 43 days, hailed as a sophisticated, precise war that accomplished objectives with minimal loss of life. Those 43 days could not have seemed short to Al Zahawi and her family living in Baghdad, which was constantly barraged by F-117 Stealth Fighters and B-52 Bombers.

She lived in the outskirts of the city where the bombing was considerably lighter, but she also lived next to an oil refinery which could easily have become a target. To Al Zahawi’s knowledge no bombs fell on that refinery.

“It was horrible. It was continuous bombing, nonstop,” Al-Zahawi said. The sounds of planes droning overhead, the anti-aircraft fire with which the Iraqi soldiers responded, and the many hours of winter darkness?compounded by a lack of electricity?all contributed to a great sense of fear in Al-Zahawi’s eight year-old heart.

“I think the biggest fear was that you’re sitting in the house in a little corner. You’d try to stay away from the windows just in case. And we were safe in the house, but just hearing the bombs falling all around you and not knowing if one of them would be on you next or not because there was no guarantee that civilians would be OK,” Al-Zahawi explained.

In an effort to find the safest place for their families, many of Al-Zahawi’s neighbors left to stay with friends or relatives farther away from the city. Some took refuge in bomb shelters built for protection during an earlier conflict with Iran.

“Those [shelters] were built to guard against the missiles. But the sad part was one of the shelters was actually hit on purpose during the war. And I guess they supposedly said they had mistaken it for a military base or whatever. It was a civilian shelter so I think about 300 [people] just burnt to death,” Al-Zahawi said.

That tragedy occurred Feb. 13, 1991, day 29 of the War, as a consequence of outdated intelligence information. Immediately thereafter, the Pentagon halted any targeting of bunkers in order to avoid similar tragedies. However, for Iraqi children, the myth of a safe place to escape to had disappeared forever.

“It was constant fear because you really didn’t know whether you were going to be alive the next second,” Al Zahawi said.

“Life wasn’t normal at that time,” she continued. “Businesses were closed and schools were closed and everything was shut down. There was no running water, no electricity.”

The city made use of two sirens to let residents know what was happening.

One indicated that bombing had started, warning everyone to take shelter.

The other meant that there was a temporary cease-fire and it was safe to move about the city. “When the peace siren sound[ed], people usually rush[ed] to get whatever supplies they [could] in that time,” Al-Zahawi recalled.

During moments of cease fire, grocery store owners opened their doors so that the people could buy what they needed. “You also had to grab jugs of water because you need it for everything,” Al Zahawi explained. “I’m not exactly sure where they got the water from. I remember they used to turn on the running water sometimes, but it would be very low pressure and you had to put the jug right there and just leave it and wait for it to fill up. I think they also sold [drinking water] somewhere in the city.”

Al-Zahawi didn’t know where the water came from because as a child, she was not responsible for going to get it. As a matter of fact, she spent most of her time in one room. “We didn’t exactly leave the house much,” she recalled, “when it [was] bombing time, I wouldn’t dare to move.” Periods of bombing usually lasted five long hours. Al Zahawi’s family attempted to drown out the frightening combat sounds by running the radio on batteries.

They heard international radio broadcasts such as the BBC and Voice of Monte Carlo, which did not always comment on the war that rained down all around her family.

When the five-hour bomb raid stopped, if she wasn’t sleeping, Al-Zahawi recalled that she sat in front of the fireplace with her family and played board games. “There was no TV, so what else can you do? I got really good at cards,” Al-Zahawi said.

In the aftermath of the Gulf War, the economic situation became difficult for Al Zahawi’s family. “Life wasn’t tolerable from the financial point of view,” Al-Zahawi said.

So in December of 1995, she immigrated to Utah with her mother, father and sister. “My grandma is from here so that is why we came directly to Utah,” Al-Zahawi explained.

She graduated from Olympus High School in 2000 and is currently pursuing a degree in computer science here at the U. She enjoys art and is a big fan of museums. That love of visual art carries over into her educational plans.

Al-Zahawi is interested in graphics and plans to participate in the graphics track just started in the School of Computing. “Even though I’m studying computer science, in my free time I stay away from computers as much as possible,” Al-Zahawi said.

Although Al-Zahawi wants to visit her childhood home, she doubts she will ever live in Iraq. “I don’t think I would fit in,” Al Zahawi explained. “Not like I feel like I fit in here either. That is the problem. I feel like I am somewhere in-between. Not here. Not there.”

The cultural differences that Al-Zahawi encountered upon first coming to Utah were “very noticeable,” she said. “Life goes by quick here. People are always in a rush. Back home it is real relaxed.”

Al-Zahawi also noticed a difference in the emphasis on families. She described the family in Iraq as the “central unit in society,” explaining that there are closer family ties and more socializing among family members than occurs here.

Because of her experiences growing up in Iraq and her current feeling of living between two very different cultures, Al-Zahawi looks at U.S. military action in Afghanistan from a unique perspective.

“I kind of have a personal connection with the events. It’s really similar to the Gulf War in the sense that they are being bombed. I’ve been through bombing. I know how it feels,” she said.

And that feeling is not something that Al-Zahawi will soon forget. “Even now when a plane flies by, that is a little too close, memories just start coming back,” she said.

[email protected]