al-Masmiyya al-Kabira - المسمية الكبيرة: 1990 Invasion of Kuwait:

1990 Invasion of Kuwait: Through the eyes of a Palestinian, by Mahmoud Zedan (Abou Adli), On July 2009.
It was the second day of August 1990 when Iraq occupied Kuwait. I was in Turkey with half of my family; the young ones. My older sons were in Kuwait. We planned our journey nicely to visit the historical sites in Istanbul specially the big mosques and to settle in Paula, a very nice village midway between Istanbul and Ankara. The village is on a high mound, on the main road to Ankara. It is green, clean, and well designed with beautiful architecture and wide streets. I was in Turkey before, so I had the intention to take my family to that place. I never expected that the village with its beauty lacks the means to accept tourists. I tried to rent a house but in vain. After laborious efforts, I was told that there was a recreation centre in the outskirts of the village and there were some motels around it. I headed there and rented half of the motel; which was three rooms.
Amazingly, I found myself in a very comfortable environment full of indescribable nature; long grass for cattle to graze, herds of sheep and peasants looking after them, orchards of fruit, scattered houses here and there. On the main road to Ankara you could see heaps of honey with conical shapes stuck together that never melt. We could clearly see a big compound with a main entrance with hustle and bustle of the movements and sounds of people and cars getting in and out of the compound. It was important first to accommodate ourselves in the motel. The village was far; about one mile from the compound and the motels. We got used to it later to buy our needs. We stayed there for fifteen days and during those days we became members in that center and enjoyed all the facilities and services, such as; different shapes and purposes of hot mineral water pools directed by professional hygienic doctors. We were told that the compound was the best in Turkey for treating certain ailments. Due to the scarcity of people there, the residents were very eager to be acquainted with the visitors of the compound and the occupants of the motels. We were able to associate with some families.
Now the ordeal began when we heard the news that Kuwait was occupied by Iraq. Our sons, daughters, relatives, and friends were there. Our lives and livelihood, our future was there. We had no idea where to go; how to sustain and endure. There were no Arabs in Paula. With whom could I speak? I sat stunned and perplexed to find a way. I packed my bags and rented a car to take us to Yallova, a main city for tourism in the east coast of Turkey. Bursa and Chanargic were very close to Yallova where I could knew of Arabs being there of different nationalities. The distance was about 300 kilometers to Yallova. I reached Yallova in the afternoon and rented a house. It was a very nice house, right across from a vegetable market that convened every week with everything we needed for the house.
The next day, I joined a huge gathering of people in a café: Palestinians, Syrians, Egyptians, and other nationalities from the Arabian Gulf. All were in despair, because the future was uncertain. The Kuwaiti Dinar lost its value. The market of Turkey did not accept the Kuwaiti dinar in the beginning of the crisis. Some of us did not have any money and there was no way to have money sent from Kuwait because everything was closed. As for me, I was rest assured for two reasons; the first was that I had American dollars and enough for a certain period; secondly, I found a mate, a teacher who worked with me in Kuwait and was also from my village; Salah Abu Haia who was vacationing with his family. We became one body during that period. The most critical situation was where to go if the crisis extended to a longer time. Collective meeting were held to hear the news. It was a real dilemma.
Our passports were from Egypt for the Palestinian refugees. The validity of those documents was very weak. We had no choice but to apply for visas to enter Egypt to be near Gaza Strip, and our relatives. Fifteen days passed without positive response from the embassy. The media of the Egyptian government at that time made us lose hope to get visas to enter their country; the media repeated the propaganda that the Palestinians plundered in Kuwait. That the Palestinians impeded traffic by putting check points in the streets of Kuwait. The Palestinians who were in Kuwait were either from Gaza Strip, Jordan or came from the West Bank after the 1967 June war. They were about 400 thousand. Most of them were educated and had good positions. I couldn؟t help but wondered how and why Palestinians would react that way.
Finally, Salah and I decided to apply for visas from the Jordanian Embassy; we had relatives there that could help us. The consular of Jordan was very cooperative and assessed our situation but warned us that the authority might prevent us from entering Jordan because we had to get an authorization from the ministry of interior. We had no time to do that. We hoped to get in for the unusual circumstances. Once we got the visas, we changed our air tickets from Turkey to Kuwait via Jordan. The plane landed in Amman airport. The employer checked our names in the computer; he found that we had no authorization to enter the land. He handed the passports to the airport officer who took the passports and gave them to the pilot of the plane who was instructed to take us back to Turkey. My daughters began to cry, but in vain. Our relatives were outside waiting for us; they did their best but without any result. The pilot assured me that The Turkish government would give us a permanent residency as soon as we reached the airport; he intended to give the children some assurances.
Luckily, we landed in Damascus on our way to Turkey. I spoke with the pilot and convinced him that we could enter Syria, since Syrians grant Palestinians entry. The pilot spoke with the airport officials and gave them an idea about us and what we had gone through. An employee from the security approached me and said that he would take our passports and check with the security office in the airport. Only then will he know if we are able to enter Syria. After a while he came back and told me that I was wanted by the authorities and that it was my decision to either enter Syria or proceed to Turkey. I sat on the chair frustrated, despaired, and exhausted. My young sons could feel the strenuous situation I was plunged in. I was sure that it was a mistake and that I will be cleared of any charges. I did not have anything to fear. Salah was on the plane with me. I did not know whether he wanted to come down or go back to Turkey. I decided to leave the airplane without speaking to Salah. In the airport, they took me to the security office, looked at my face and handed me my passport. It was a very good sign which alleviated my fear. I knew then that the man gave me the passport because he was sure that I was not the man whom they wanted. He told me to check with the security office in Shalan. We spent that night in a hotel.
Two people in Syria were very courteous and considerate to my family and me. One of them was Omer Hurani who had a very good position in the Ministry of Finance; he was the treasurer. We were friends in Masmyia elementary school; though I was older than him. He worked with me until I got my clearance. The case was similarity of names. I am forever indebted to him; Omer Hurani has now passed away; God bless his soul. The second person was Ibrahim Mohana, one of my relatives. He worked as civil Engineer in Kuwait, so I knew him well. He provided a house for us to stay in. We stayed in Syria for fifteen days. My intention then was to go back to Kuwait. I called one of my cousins in Jordan who was a physician, to apply for a permit for us to cross through Jordan on our way to Kuwait. I got a visa for forty eight hours. When I entered Jordan I stayed for one week among my relatives. My friend Salah preferred to stay with his relatives in Syria, but later came to Kuwait.
I rented a big seven-passenger van; the driver was Iraqi. We departed Jordan early morning and headed to Kuwait. Few people were going to Kuwait; many were leaving. Nothing strange in Jordan except two temporary small camps of different nationalities came from Kuwait located near area H.4. The people were waiting for permission to go to Amman and from Amman take their flight to their countries. When I entered Iraq I saw many Asians, Indians and Philippines who were servants and field workers in Kuwait carrying heavy bags. It was believed that many of them took clothes and small household items from the vacant Kuwaiti homes they worked at. They were big groups along the road from Ramadi to Rutba.
We reached Basra; the borders were blocked by a large number of soldiers. The officer approached us and told us that the Iraqi cars were forbidden to enter Kuwait for security reasons. We had to put our bags down and wait until Jordanian cars pass by to take us to Kuwait. Fortunately enough, a Jordanian saloon car reached the gate and the officer told the driver to give my family a ride to Kuwait. The driver seemed to be in a hurry and in a bad mood to accept duty. I told him that he could take them to Hawali, which was very close to his destination so he accepted. The officer held the driver responsible for the safety of my family. I gave him the address of a friend in Kuwait. I waited for another lorry to take me and my bags to Kuwait. When I arrived Kuwait, I went to my friend؟s house and found my family there. My older sons came and took us to Mangaf, thirty miles east of Kuwait. There was no checking for the passports at the boundaries at that time.
I did some digging upon my return and found that life had changed. The way of running schools, co-operative societies, the banks, the means of communications either slowed or disconnected from time to time. The goods were sold in many open places all around Kuwait. Senior employees sat on benches to sell vegetables, old furniture, oil and car tires. The currency was Iraqi dinar which was very cheap. Some people hurried to buy it; later they were sorry. The Kuwaiti resistance flurried. Shortly after, the allied forces liberated Kuwait. The foreigners from the countries that supported Saddam Hussain lost their jobs and had no income. Many people left Kuwait hoping to find a better life. As for my family and me, we were currently separated across the globe, still hoping for a better life.