‘Anything that happens now in Libya will always be better than Gaddafi’
Miriam Dalli talks to a Libyan family caught up in the wake of the revolution to overthrow Col Muammar Gaddafi and the experiences they lived through to get away from the fighting.
As Libya was waking to an almost impossible revolution, Libyans took to the streets, Col Muammar Gaddafi’s army retaliated… and panic escalates. Houses were ransacked, revolutionaries were assaulted and women were raped by the Gaddafi forces.
Those who had the possibility, tried to seek refuge away from their home. The Tripoli airport in mid-February was overcrowded, as chaos and panic reigned with the ever-increasing fear that comes with war.
Among the ‘lucky’ Libyans who managed to get out of the country were Manal and Soud Shwehdi. Manal, six-month pregnant, was eager to leave Libya in time before it was too late. Notorious for its lack of hygiene and the inexperienced nurses, she didn’t trust the Libyan hospitals. It was easy to get a disease or an infection – even through simple check-ups – and she wasn’t even sure whether the hospitals would be safe during a war.
So, through the help of a friend, the couple made it to Malta on 20 February. They stayed at a hotel for three days until they rented out a small flat.
In June, Manal gave birth to a baby boy, Mahmoud.
“Back in Libya we had a normal life. We earned money and we travelled. We had schools and places where to hang out,” Manal recounts. “Of course, we wished for cinemas and nicer places and better schools and better hospitals.”
The school system was outdated, with old syllabuses, lack of choice in subjects, old apparatus and equipment. Going to a private school was out of question if you didn’t belong to the elite groups close to the Gaddafi regime.
Not including uniforms, books, bags and other necessities, the fee would amount to a total of €7,000 per term.
“If you compare the public system to the resources the country had, we were practically receiving below zero,” Soud, a civil engineer, explains. “Considering how rich the country is in oil, the schools and hospitals were not up to standard.”
The hospitals were in such a precarious and run-down state that people used to work and save money, not to enjoy a holiday, but to be able to travel and do check-ups and receive treatment abroad.
The hospitals lacked hygiene and standards, the medical teams were inexperienced, and the attitude was rough.
“Going to the hospitals was only a choice when nothing else was possible. You could risk contracting a disease even by just going for a check-up,” Soud says.
Soud recalls the trauma that he had to endure – along with his family – eight years ago when his father succumbed to cancer. His father used to own a number of properties once, but the Gaddafi regime seized all of them.
Libya’s hospitals did not have the treatment his father needed and they had to go abroad. Soud’s family tried to get help from the government end, but to no avail. So they were forced to sell everything. Back in Libya, Soud’s father had to go on receiving treatment. But once again, the government would not help them, and eventually they ran out of money. “My father died because he received no treatment,” Soud says.
He looks down at his son, who is sleeping peacefully in his cradle. “Anything that will happen now in Libya will always be better than Gaddafi. No one knows what will happen in the future but we are hoping for the best… we all agree on one thing: we want to live a better life.”
Just a couple of days ago, Soud was in Tripoli working with a humanitarian foundation. Manal did not want him to go because she feared for his life. But for Soud, helping his fellow Libyan nationals is an obligation: “It’s our job to keep our country safe, talk to and help the people there. I will always do my best to make our country better. Our brothers received bullets with open arms defending Libya. It’s the least I can do.”
In fact, it was not easy for the Al-Entishar, the aid ship, to dock at Tripoli. Upon arrival, NATO forces warned them it could be dangerous, as there were underwater mines, and if something would happen to them it was not NATO’s responsibility. But the Al-Entishar went in, until three Libyans at the harbour told them to dock on the other side as that spot was not safe.
Though they are safe, Soud is pained when he talks about his family. “The last I saw them they looked changed. They were happy, but different. They experienced fights, they heard bombings, they saw people die. Even the rebels are fed up of the war. They are normal people who want to go on living normal lives.”
“But we don’t mind living like this. At least we are getting rid of Gaddafi,” he adds.
Even Manal looks forward to a brighter future. She expects a different life for women. In Libya she worked with an American company and would have never dreamt of working with a local one: “The men look at you in a funny way. They would harass a woman. There would be Gaddafi people… bad people.”
Manal had also tried opening her own small company, specialising in interior design. But the feedback was more negative than positive as she tried to strike business deals. “But now I think it’s going to be different. I believe women will be given more opportunities and space to work.”