After Husam started talking an old man starts walking quietly between our chairs spreading on us his smiles and some newspapers. The old man looks like a janitor or a cleaner. He wears some respectful clothes but they are old fashioned a little. His eyes, which hide spangles you can touch of you look after them, are little sad, sometimes.
Husam told us about the Iraqi law and how it talks about freedom. Freedom of expression, in the first place. The Iraqi law "gives" the freedom of expression but it must not contradict the "ethics of the society" or "the moral rules of the society" and the law does not say what that might mean. Also, there is no access to details of all major things, since the Iraqi law says that you can get access to all the documents of all the ministries accept to those that "can affect the national security". Husam told us that national security must mean the well-being of the people and that they get enough to eat and got good services. But the idea of the national security that most of us have is something related to how the military defines it.
The young man also told us that there is no time in Iraq that we had stable and "not a temporary" constitution.
Well, the young man said much that made us feel under which dim skies we are living.
The old man, who brought us tea cups by his hands while we were listening to his guest, and who took them when we finished and then came again with another tea cups for those who like to drink two cups, that old man who looked like a simple janitor looking after the cleanness and organisation of the meeting, that old man approached the seat near Husam when Husam was about to end and he sits there.
When Husam ended his speech that young man talked. Well, I just took a sigh. He TALKED that old man and let the things out. He talked about how a civil state cannot stay civil if its base is sectarian. That the identity of the country does not need another identity. The Identity of Iraq does not need another identity of being Sunni, or Shiite, Kurdish or Arabic. That man talked some fluent words with a very amazing voice that I wish I had registered. Word by word. That old man is a diamond. I asked the man sitting next to me: "Who is that man." The man next to me looked at me a little estranged that I didn't know, and then he whispered: "He is Khaleel!"
I held my tear at the end of what Uncle Khaleed said.