KUWAIT: The first thing Ragaa Ghait woke up to on the morning of August 2, 1990, was the sound of the television echoing through their house, announcing that Kuwait had been declared the nineteenth province of Iraq. The Egyptian family, like many other expatriates seeking a better life away from instability in their home countries, found it hard to believe that their once peaceful haven had been invaded.

“During those seven months, we learned the true meaning of defending the country from which you earn your living,” said Ghait, the mother whose family’s life was threatened, with her husband nearly losing his eyesight during the invasion.

Ghait remembers how Iraqi troops reached neighborhoods, occupying every empty house that came along their way. They tried to occupy the home of one of Ghait’s neighbors who were away on summer vacation. But Ghait’s husband, Saad Mahmoud, could not stand idly by. He stood in the occupiers’ path, shouting, “This is my neighbor’s house!”

The knife that took his eyes

At that moment, the Iraqi man drew a knife hidden in his sock and slashed Mahmoud’s face from his eye to his cheek. He was immediately rushed to the hospital. “We could hear Mahmoud screaming in pain as he received fifteen stitches without anesthesia,” Ghait recounted. Since that incident, his vision was permanently impaired.

Upon learning that Iraqi soldiers were capturing Kuwaitis, Ghait, whose sister is Kuwaiti, knew she could not leave. Ghait’s family and her sisters and kids decided to stay together out of fear for their safety. Whenever Iraqi soldiers came knocking at their doors searching for Kuwaitis, Ghait and her husband would open the door themselves and say, “Only Egyptians live here.”

KUWAIT: Buildings damaged by the Iraqi troops are seen after the liberation of Kuwait in these file photos. — KUNA photos

In one of those times, the soldiers broke into the house, and targeted a rifle toward Mahmoud’s head. “I want my dad,” cried Mahmoud’s daughter who was only five years old at the time. “Iraqis didn’t leave a house without looting it and stripping it of everything. In just a week, all of Kuwait was empty,” said Gait. After the long-anticipated liberation, she recalled how every resident in Kuwait, regardless of nationality, worked together to rebuild the country. “We were all like a family, working to bring old Kuwait back,” she said.

‘I thought I was going to die’

Aida Ali, a Lebanese resident who was born in Kuwait, didn’t need television to know the Iraqis had entered the country, she saw it firsthand. While driving to work the morning of August 2, she heard the roar of a warplane flying directly above her, dropping what appeared to be two fireballs in her path. Trapped on the highway, she couldn’t stop or turn back. “I thought I was going to die,” she said, recalling the overwhelming mix of fear, confusion, and disbelief she felt.

But the fireballs didn’t explode, leaving her grateful yet more bewildered. “After that, everything felt like a dream,” she said. Having previously escaped Lebanon’s civil war to Kuwait, Ali and her family had nowhere else to turn. “Every day we hoped it would end, but things only got worse.”

She recalled bombs damaging her parents’ house, leaving large holes in the ceiling and forcing her parents to move to her home. Iraqi soldiers also used psychological tactics to agonize people — she remembered the anxiety she felt when an Iraqi soldier would shine his cannon in front of their building every day. Most painfully, she spoke of the day she had to leave her parents and go to her husband’s family just before Operation Dessert Strom’s ground offensive began. “I had never experienced such separation from them,” she said. “I feared I might never see them again.”

When those difficult days ended, she hoped the worst was behind her. However, some of the post-war impacts lingered and persist today. The oil wells set on fire by Iraq turned mornings into nights, with black smoke spreading across the country and even staining men’s white traditional attire. Food remained scarce as borders closed and supplies were cut off. They were only able to eat thanks to rations shared by Kuwaiti friends. Years later, every time Ali hears a sudden loud noise or encounters an accident, her mind reverts to 1990, struggling to shake off those memories. “I lost my sense of security, always scared that anything could happen at any time.”

Gulf war refugees

Born in Kuwait and having lived there for 16 years, Fatema Shamoon, an Indian resident, knew no other home but Kuwait. Shamoon and her family were among the last to be evacuated by the Indian government. She often heard her father say, “I don’t want to abandon this country; I want to wait and see how things will turn out.” However, evacuation orders were strict, and they had to leave or stay at their own risk.

Each family member was allowed to pack only one small bag with their basic stuff. “We had to leave behind so many memories — our belongings, dad’s car, childhood photographs, even my sister’s wedding photos,” Shamoon said.

The trip back to India took almost eight days, and was entirely by road, traveling from Kuwait to Basra, Baghdad, and through the dessert to Jordan. From there, they took a plane from Jordan to India. Trapped in no-man’s land on the border between Iraq and Jordan, Shamoon said that they were referred to as “Gulf war refugees.” Shamoon’s sister who was pregnant throughout the entire trip, delivered her baby the day after they reached their hometown.

Even though Shamoon felt more of an observer or just a follower of her parents, she could feel the amount of uncertainty her family had been passing through during this turning point in their life. Losing everything they built in Kuwait, having to go back to India during a very weak economic phase, they have often questioned, “should we start building a career here? Should we wait until Kuwait is liberated? Or should we travel for another country?”

It wasn’t until 1994 that they were able to return to Kuwait and gradually rebuild everything from scratch. Shamoon’s brother was the first to return, but he had no place to stay. When he was there, he visited their old apartment, curious to see its condition, but was surprised to find it intact and untouched. “I saw everything we had left behind and could have easily taken it, but I didn’t know where to put it. I barely had a place to sleep myself,” her brother told her. “So, yes, we had to let go of our memories one more time,” Shamoon said in despair.