When I was eight years old, I lived in Kuwait. On August 2nd, 1990, we woke up to the sounds of machine gun fire. Helicopters were in the sky, and smoke trails were on the horizon. Iraq had invaded.
The following days taught me much about human nature. There were reports of arrests, tortures and atrocities. My cousin showed me pictures he had taken of a corpse.
On the eighth day, my parents decided to leave Kuwait, and we were able to escape through the desert to Saudi Arabia. Many of my family, however, decided to stay. One of them was my uncle Malek, the subject of this film.
After the war, we heard about several of his heroics. One of these, however, rang most resonantly through my mind. It was the story of how he saw two dead bodies, day after day, that no one was burying. He went to the Red Crescent, but they were reluctant. People were afraid of the consequences if they interfered. So Malek took it on himself to bury the two bodies, digging them a grave by the side of the road.
This story shaped my view of human dignity, and I feel so fortunate now to be able to share it with the world.
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