At last, Saddam Hussein, the fearful monster of my childhood, the shotgun waver, the dictator, hanged for one-tenth of his crimes. If I want to explain how my childhood has been mixed up with his face and name, let me just recall the days, each morning my father was leaving home for work, I wasn't sure if I could see his face a second time. Each time the earsplitting alert was spreading to the town, and the bombers' voice were filling the sky, we were shivering in underground to see if we could taste the security another moment in our life.
by the way, he is gone... I'm sure with a fear of death, fear of the real judiciary waiting for him.