Location: Mesopotamia (The Land Between the Two Rivers) Date: 1918
The First World War ended in 1918, and Iraq fell under British Mandate control. The scene wasn't much different from what it had been during Ottoman rule; poverty still cast its gloomy shadow, feudal lords were growing more powerful and dominant, and people cried out with no one to answer. Amidst these upheavals, a new boy was born. It was a Friday, and the cold crept through the alleys of the ancient city. In a modest home with simple walls, Noufa bint Ali bin Mukhlad al-Shahbi gave birth to her first child, aided by her loyal friend, Amina. The newborn was named Majid bin Muhammad bin Ali bin al-Majawi, as if he was born to witness an era dominated by turmoil and disasters. He was born without having chosen it; his existence was imposed upon him, just as occupation was imposed upon his country. And there, in the city of Najaf, a new story began, intertwining with the threads of history and unfolding amidst the clamor of the days.
Majid was the firstborn son of Noufa and Muhammad after a marriage that had lasted fourteen years. His father, Muhammad, was one of the struggling men, battling the hardships of life every day to provide sustenance for his family. Like most of the common people, Muhammad worked as a farmer for a feudal lord, receiving his meager share of money, which was barely enough. Yet, he had no other choice; life in those days was harsh, and coercion was stronger than choice.
Four years passed, and he saw his father being humiliated and oppressed, remaining silent to provide him with a dignified life. His father had endured much throughout his life and was now approaching fifty years of age. Muhammad was born in 1869 during Ottoman rule, and his mother Noufa was born in 1879, approaching forty. Both had lived a bitter, humiliating life and did not want their son to go through the same, but fate decreed that he would live worse than them.
The year is 1922, and he is four years old. His father had become a tired, elderly man, and the feudal lord had reduced his wages, which now barely sufficed for a single day.
The current year is 1928 Majid's current age is 10 years
Majid, despite his young age, was forced to help his father and the feudal lord. The feudal lord was extremely angry, grim-faced, with harsh features. He had a deep scar on his right cheek, and his short stature barely exceeded one hundred and sixty-five centimeters. His hair was black like kohl, his eyes were blue with a glint of cruelty, his skin was white, and his body was fat. He was forty-five years old, married to four women, but had only been blessed with two daughters from his first wife, Lady Fadila, who had green eyes and fiery red hair.
Majid asked his father: "What is this master's name?" His father answered with submission and fear:"This is our master, and his name is Ujayb." Majid said with innocence:"And why is he so wicked?" His father got angry and said,looking around: "Be quiet, and don't repeat these words, and beware of saying it to anyone. Thank God no one was around to hear us."
Majid was disturbed by his father's harshness, but he felt sorry for him. Suddenly, a voice came from afar, shouting: "Keep working and don't stop, or we'll cut your wages!" So Majid and his father returned to work with their heads bowed.
The work in the summer season, in the month of July, was arduous and exhausting. Ujayb wanted them to harvest the spring wheat because he had planted it late. Under the harsh heat, Majid's father collapsed from exhaustion and fell sitting on the ground. Suddenly, a man approached from afar, his steps quick, his eyes gleaming with anxiety. He knelt beside the father, took out a little money from his pocket, and handed it to him.
Majid was surprised and said: "Who are you, sir?" The man answered in a calm voice:"My name is Ali, and I work for Ujayb in the livestock division." Majid's face changed and he asked in astonishment:"And why are you here? Does the master allow that?" Ali smiled half a smile and said:"I was on an errand, and I've completed it." Majid thanked him gratefully,but was soon interrupted by the voice of the overseer shouting at him harshly: "Get back to work, boy!" Majid bowed, picked up his tool, and resumed harvesting under the scorching sun.
The farmers returned in the morning to transport the harvested wheat to the mill, carrying it on their backs. The distance was estimated at five kilometers, the path was rough, and there was no easier route—or so Ujayb wanted them to think. He was miserly, preferring to exhaust and humiliate them rather than provide better ways to transport the crop.
Majid carried the wheat with his father, and on the way, they encountered Ali, who came forward to help them carry the heavy load. Ali had blue eyes, chestnut hair that was short, a wheat-colored complexion, and a height approaching one meter eighty. Yet, he found no place to work other than Ujayb's farms, after a recommendation from one of his relatives.
Majid asked him: "How old are you, Ali? And where is your family?" He answered:"I am twenty years old. I was born in 1908, and my family died in 1918; I was ten years old then. Since that time, I've been forced to work for Ujayb."
Their conversation continued until they reached the mill. It was crowded, with every farmer waiting his turn. The miller, Abu Kamil, was quick to anger, very strict about order. Majid's father had to wait long, and due to his age and physical weakness that day, he knelt on his knees. The miller saw him and shouted at him and at Majid, without considering their exhaustion. The farmers rushed, grabbed Muhammad's hand, helped him stand, and gave him an old stick that was lying on the ground.
After a long wait, their turn came. They placed the wheat and then turned back. But Adil Suhayb, Ujayb's nephew and the farm manager, was waiting for them. He forced them and the other farmers to do additional work for paltry wages: plowing and transporting fodder to the livestock pen.
In the pen, they found Ali helping the other workers. After finishing, he invited them for a cup of tea. Majid and his father sat gratefully, conversing, reminiscing about their suffering and sharing some jokes to forget their tiredness. Time passed quickly.
Muhammad said, rising tiredly: "We are late, Majid. We must return." They bid farewell to Ali and returned home, where Noufa was worried about them. Muhammad said to her: "We worked overtime for our livelihood, Noufa." She said,with sadness filling her eyes: "And when will you leave this job and find a better one? It doesn't suffice us." Muhammad answered in a quiet voice,his features filled with pride: "There is no other work, and you know it. As for me accepting to borrow from someone, my self-respect is too precious for me to demean." Noufa almost cried,but when she saw Majid, she wiped her tears and steeled herself. Then they all went to sleep.
The months passed, and their relationship with Ali grew until he became their closest and most trustworthy friend. Majid had black hair and eyes, inherited from his father, while his mother had only passed on her sharp voice to him, not her golden hair or blue eyes.
After finishing their work at night, they returned to their dilapidated home. The house was an old mud-brick structure with a palm frond roof. A foul, terrible smell emanated from it due to the dampness, but they paid it no mind, living in submission and acceptance of their reality.
They woke to the shouting of the feudal lord's crier, who gathered them and informed them that the crops were scarce due to climate fluctuations and that he would deduct from their wages. The farmers were furious, and their voices rose. Even though Master Ujayb did not force the farmers to work for him, he was one of the major feudal lords, and his word was law; he was also a big shot. This is what Majid's father told his son, so Majid knew that his father leaving his job with Ujayb would bring regret and he would not find other work. As for migrating to Baghdad, it was costly and they couldn't afford it.
The farmers gathered at the farm square, their hands raised, their voices reverberating like the roar of an angry sea. They were declaring their rejection of the feudal lord Ujayb's decisions, fed up with poverty and hunger. The guards, along with some of Ujayb's retinue, tried to calm the crowd, but the anger was too great to be silenced. As the voices rose and intensified, three luxurious cars appeared on the horizon, their paint gleaming under the noon sun. The procession stopped in front of the crowd, and as the door of one opened, Ujayb stepped out, in his black suit, sturdy tie, and his Ottoman "Faisaliya" hat. The same arrogant features were etched on his face, as if the earth and all upon it were his property.
The farmers crowded around him, extending their hands, pleading, beseeching him to reverse his unjust decision. But his many guards formed a cordon of bodies to prevent anyone from approaching. The pushing intensified, and the shouts grew louder, until one farmer managed to break through the ranks and reach Ujayb. He stood before him, panting from exhaustion, tears of frustration glistening in his eyes, then cried out in a trembling voice: "Master… please, have mercy on us. What you give us isn't enough for a single day. By God, the cheap, poor-quality lentils saved us from death and gave us just enough to work." He extended his trembling hand and grabbed Ujayb's hand,searching for a grain of mercy in his stony face. But Ujayb did not hesitate. He raised his heavy cane and struck the farmer brutally, screaming, "Get away from me, you filthy peasant… you scum!" Then he rained blows upon him, and not content with that, he spat in his face and kicked him to the ground, until the guards intervened and dragged the man away.
Silence prevailed for a moment, broken only by the moans of the wounded farmer, before screams from women in the distance pierced the air, and the men's eyes burned with resentment. At that moment, the farmers felt that Ujayb's cane hadn't just struck one man… it had struck all of their dignity.
Amidst the chaos, a voice rose from within the crowd, loud and defiant: "Go to hell, you damned feudal lord!" That call was like a spark that ignited a smoldering fire; the protests instantly turned into acts of riot and rebellion, and anti-Ujayb chants and cries against his corrupt policies rose. The square shook with screams, and the angry bodies swayed, pushing against each other like a mighty wave wanting to uproot everything in its path.
The guards tried to impose control, raising their rifles and firing shots into the air to disperse the massive crowds. Ujayb owned nearly two thousand dunams, and about five hundred workers labored on his land, making controlling this angry mob an almost impossible task. And amidst this turmoil, the unexpected happened. One of the peasants lunged forward, brandishing a rusty knife, and plunged it into a guard's hand. The guard screamed in pain, then retaliated with a gunshot that tore through the peasant's chest and dropped him lifeless onto the dirt.
The shouting rose: "They've killed him! Killed him!" Majid snatched a quick glance at the slain body, and saw that the killed man was none other than Ali... his only friend. His limbs froze,his feet rooted to the ground as if they were two rocks, and he felt his chest tighten until he almost choked. He wanted to scream,to rush towards Ali and shake him, but his voice caught in his throat and his eyes burst into tears. He saw Ali's young face,the spark of life gone from it, and remembered every moment they had shared: the laughter over a cup of tea, the warm words as he helped him in the field, and the dreams they shared of a better future. And in that moment,Majid felt as if a part of his heart had been torn out, and that the world had become narrower than what his small soul could bear.
The pent-up anger exploded, and the peasants surged forward, attacking the guards with sticks, stones, and anything they could lay their hands on. The two sides clashed violently, blood splattering on tattered clothes and fancy suits. As for Ujayb, his heart trembled for a moment, and he took a step back. He shouted to his guards to form a ring around him, then rushed towards his luxurious car, climbing in quickly before the human flood could swallow him. The doors slammed shut, and the car sped off through the crowd, while another car was sent racing to the police station to request backup.
Ujayb returned to his towering palace, which covered a thousand square meters, its high walls like a fortress, its gilded doors a testament to a luxury the peasants could not fathom. Inside, his first wife, Fadila, was waiting for him, along with his two daughters, Samiya and Lana. His other wives, Wazira, Aaliya, and Hanan, were also watching his entrance with faces mixing anxiety and dread.
Ujayb entered his palace burdened with dust and exhaustion, his clothes torn as if he had emerged from a battle. In the garden, his wife Fadila was tending to the girls; they ran towards him, filled with anxiety. —"What happened, my dear?" He turned his face away and did not answer.He knew that if a word came out, it would open doors of fear that would not close. He passed by them in silence, while Fadila's eyes remained fixed on his features, which she did not recognize.
Inside, the servants bowed in greeting. The head servant, Hatem, approached, his voice a mix of respect and suspicion. —"Please, my master, the bath is prepared and the clothes are ready." Then he winked stealthily at another servant,signaling the surprise prepared for their master, unaware that the timing was fatal.
Ujayb entered his majestic bathroom where the white marble reflected light like the moon and incense rose in its corners. The servants helped him wash off the dust and the blood spattered on his hands. While they prepared his new clothes, his heart was pounding violently in his chest. He felt something lying in wait but didn't know from where it would come.
He came out and found Fadila and his daughters waiting for him. On the table was a large piece of cake. His wife said in a voice she tried to make cheerful: —"Many happy returns. It's your birthday, my dear." He gave her a cold look,then grabbed his weapon hanging on the wall and said in a rough voice: —"Today is not a day for congratulations." And he ordered Hatem:"Send urgent messages to the feudal lords. Let them come now. The matter cannot be delayed."
Not an hour had passed before the palace was crowded with luxurious cars. Four of the major feudal lords entered his council. They sat in a circle, their faces tense, their eyes alight with curiosity and fear.
Ujayb opened the conversation: —"My friends, I thank you for your presence. I have brought you here for a grave matter." Hadi,short on patience, interrupted him sharply: —"Save the thanks. What is happening? Why have you gathered us?" Ujayb cleared his throat and delivered his words with deliberate slowness: —"Four hours ago, the peasants revolted. They weren't content with refusing to work; they raised their knives against me. They almost killed me. And today, I warn you: if this evil is not checked at my place, it will spread to yours." Silence prevailed.Then Basid said, his eyes narrowing with suspicion: —"And what drove them to that? There's no smoke without fire, Ujayb." Ujayb smiled bitterly: —"The drought destroyed the fields. I reduced their wages to compensate for my losses. Instead of thanking me for my grace in feeding and sheltering them, they turned on me like vermin." Abdulaziz,their eldest elder, who was calm like a deep river, laughed: —"You say your grace? You reap gold while they reap hunger. As for their dwellings, by God, the dogs in my stables live better than they do." The atmosphere grew tense.The feudal lords exchanged glances. Ujayb realized that Abdulaziz was a major obstacle. Abdulaziz sat calmly in Ujayb's council while the other paced the room back and forth, striking the ground with his cane like a cornered beast.
Abdulaziz said in a confident tone: —"You know, Ujayb, everything you build on the backs of these peasants is as fragile as a spider's web." Ujayb stopped,his eyes sparking with fury. —"Don't philosophize to me, Sheikh. You know these people are a calamity. If I don't tighten my grip, they will turn on all of us." Abdulaziz laughed a short laugh and said: —"Turn on us? No, they revolt. And does the hungry revolt except because he is hungry? Does the thirsty rebel except because he was denied water?" Ujayb approached him until they were face to face and said slowly: —"You want to appear just, Abdulaziz, but I know your truth. You are no different from me except for a cover of eloquent words. If you didn't have enough land and water, you would do the same as I do." Abdulaziz sipped his coffee slowly,then placed the cup on the table decisively. —"The difference between me and you, Ujayb, is that I see the peasants as partners in livelihood, and you see them as slaves on a farm. That is the difference." Ujayb's eyelid twitched,and he shouted: —"Slaves? No, they are fortunate! If it weren't for my generosity, they would have perished from hunger! I give them work and shelter, and still they overstep!" Abdulaziz smiled,with a bitter sarcasm in his voice: —"That shelter? That ruin you call a house? I swear if your donkey were tied there, it would refuse to stay the night. As for their wages, it is the price of a life stolen from them while they toil under the sun. Aren't you ashamed?" Ujayb struck the table with his cane with force,making the cups rattle. —"Enough of your sermons! I did not invite you to give me lessons in mercy, but to offer you a deal that will enrich you and silence these rabble." Abdulaziz looked at him with penetrating eyes: —"A deal? Let me guess. You want me to marry my son, Qassar, to your daughter Samiya. Isn't that it?" Ujayb was momentarily flustered but said sharply: —"And why not? Isn't it a profitable deal for you? My sons and daughters are of noble blood, and their marriage is an honor." Abdulaziz laughed long this time,until Ujayb's face grew even more constricted. —"An honor? You are looking for a shield to protect you from the people's anger, not for lineage. You want to bind me to you so I will stop opposing you." He moved closer until his voice was a biting whisper: —"Listen, Ujayb, I will not accept your daughter except for a price. Stop cutting off the water from my lands, or I will not allow my son to be buried in your mire." Ujayb gasped,his face flushed, and he shouted: —"The water is a red line! It is my weapon, the secret of my strength! You want to take it from me?" Abdulaziz rose slowly,turned his back, and said as if delivering a final verdict: —"No, I want to remove your injustice. Remember my words: the peasant may obey you today out of fear, but tomorrow he will break the whip and uproot you from your foundations."
Ujayb remained standing, his face pouring sweat, Abdulaziz's voice echoing through the palace like a curse. Abdulaziz smiled sarcastically. —"You want to sell me an illusion with a marriage? Very well, I accept, but on one condition: you stop cutting the water to my land during peak seasons, and your men stop harassing my men in the market." The others gasped in astonishment.Water was Ujayb's strongest weapon. A long moment of silence was broken by a heavy murmur. —"I agree," said Ujayb, biting his lips.
Karim, the city-dweller, burst out at Ujayb, screaming: —"Forget these rabble! They are carcasses of humans! We give them what they don't deserve, and then they overstep us!" Ujayb agreed,sighing: —"You are right. Ungrateful wretches." But Hadi stood up,his voice shaking: —"You see nothing but gold! These are human beings! They hungered, they thirsted. What greater sin is there than to deprive a peasant of his water?" Ujayb looked at him with sarcasm: —"And since when have you become a champion of the poor, Hadi? Weren't you born with a golden spoon in your mouth?" Hadi smiled bitterly: —"Perhaps, but at least I am not blind to the truth."
Voices rose in the council, but suddenly the discussion was cut off by loud knocks on the door. The police chief, Abdul Qadir bin Abbas, entered in his majestic uniform, followed by two hundred armed elements. —"Master Ujayb, we have come to answer your call." Ujayb smiled for the first time: —"You are blessed. Now we will extinguish their fire before it consumes the land." They all rose and left with heavy steps towards their cars,dragging behind them fear and a lust for power.
But on the other side, on the edge of the farm, Majid was standing, his heart beating like a war drum. He saw the horizon clouded with black clouds of men and weapons. And he wondered to himself: —"How can a boy like me stop this flood?"