After half an hour, my parents were in their bedroom, and my younger sister was with them as my father was helping her study, while me and my two sisters were in the living room with my brother, and my other brother was in the kitchen. Suddenly, we heard the kitchen door open in a scary way, and my brother shouts, “Who is there?” I was sitting in the middle of the room on the sofa, so all of a sudden I saw. I [had] first thought that my brother-in-law had come in and was joking with my brother in the kitchen. No one would normally dare to enter a house of a party member who had some weapons—we had two machine guns and one pistol.
So they entered. I saw three young men with masks. They entered holding machine guns. I didn’t know what to think, because we didn’t hear much about crimes at that time, as the level of crime was very low. They didn’t look like a gang; the way they entered, they looked as if they were army and knew their target. They were masked with the Iraqi kofiya, the traditional scarf men use to cover the head, colored red and black and white and black. At that time the only thing I thought of is, “I have to run to my father,” so I blindly ran, crying and screaming and shouting, “Baba, they came in!” He was asking, “Who, who?” He just wanted to know who and I was replying, “I don’t know.”