Aya Mansour 28 Years Old, writer and journalist, Baghdad Teacher’s Institute Graduate
I am currently working in the Iraqi Network Magazine and Al-Jazeera Net website My passion for the world of journalism began from the first moment I became aware of the power of the composition of a verse. It pushed me to on my own learn the basics of journalistic work and the constant attempt to work in more than one agency and place for the purpose of gaining journalistic and professional experience. However, the room in front of my dream was very large and it is not easy to enter it because most of those in charge of press agencies did not believe in the idea of attracting young energies with little experience - despite their passion for the profession - instead they try to search for the old people of the world of press who accumulated many readers over the years, without realizing that even the geniuses of liberation were someday novices. My fight continued between a dream that I would like to fulfill and the reality of rejection; I lived the latter for two years. I rejected some offers at the start of my career because their offerers believed that they would be able to take advantage of me as a novice. Many failed and futile attempts made me more frustrated day after day and attempt after another. Until my heart suggested that I write a letter to the late writer Jumah Al-Halfi, who was chief editor of Al-Shabaka Al-Iraqiya Magazine. I tossed all the bags of my worries and the boxes of my despair and my wishes for publishing one report, so this door opened for me and gave me a great opportunity to enter the world of journalism. I started working in the Iraqi Network Magazine and became part of the staff. I liked the magazine very much and considered it the place that taught me a lot and opened many wonderful horizons for me. I have four literary books ranging from collections of poetry to short stories (Photographs, a Forest of Fingers, Singing Alone, Alice in Baghdad). The beginnings were also hurtful, everything was more complicated and intertwined because I am a girl . When I published my first poetry book at the age of twenty- one, I realized that the literary milieu is no different from the journalistic milieu until I reached the conviction that there is no acceptance of any new person trying to enter any field, I felt that we - the new writers - were viruses that were to be eliminated. I was too young to understand everything that was happening, but my mother encouraged me and tried to support me not to break my neck from the intensity of looking back. The words that were said were a criticism of my personality and my appearance, which I love, even though I did not choose it; and not because of the journalistic or literary content I present to the Iraqi street. I was and still trying to empty the feelings of the pain and hurt that I received as a young girl working as a writer and journalist through my own writing. I was asking myself why do I write? My answer to myself was not that I would like to be the best Iraqi writer rather I wrote to document what I live in. I write to let people know that I am an eyewitness to some things, so why not testify? Every situation and event yields victims and these victims should remain recorded. We are all victims, in one way or another, for many things that we could not overcome, such as war, for example. I love writing about cities and people and consider writing as part of a verse, and I have always believed in my cause, my idea and my principle, so it is not logical to think of leaving it even for one day and for any reason whatsoever. I even hope to have ten hands to write. It has all the stories that I see daily, and I need more than 24 hours to complete everything that is being postponed to the near future, I never doubted my desire to pursue this career, so every time writing takes out something from me, it gives me a feeling of gratitude to the people who allowed me write about them, like they shared difficult parts of their lives with you. Every day is a new step for me and every day I learn how to be calmer in the face of difficulties. Every day is a new challenge for me because I believe that I will live what I live by, and I also like the idea of people supporting each other, which gives me hope always. Writing women's stories as part of my journalistic work taught me how to get out of the rubble of war, and to stand up to my disappointments. Therefore, I feel ashamed to send a message to the women of my country, for they are the ones who taught me everything I know. Every woman is a message, a cause, and an idea.
Image description: There are two photos, both featuring the same smiling woman with long dark hair. In one, she stands on a balcony, resting her left elbow on the metal railing. She wears a white textured sweater with a small necklace, and black trousers. Behind her we see a sunset view of a city, dominated by construction cranes near a many-domed structure. In the other photo, she wears a yellow coat over jeans tucked into brown boots. Behind her is a lively night-time street scene with racks of shirts on display below a neon sign whose fill title is obscured by the enormous bunch of brightly colored helium balloons that she is holding in her right hand. The balloons, of which there are at least 25, feature several Santa Clauses, a couple of pandas and cats, and some cartoon girls.