I finished ‘The Last Girl’ by Nadia Murad this week. This book clutches you with the painful detail the experiences of Yazidi community in the hands of terrorism. Especially what the young women had to suffer through. The story narrates in great detail the time before ISIS rule to the grim facts of what it is to be a women-slave under them. How religion is distorted to justify crimes. Rape used as a tool of war to terrorise. Sexual abuse of women used as a recruitment incentive. This is not the first time in history this has happened and on many occasions, we never know the truth. The sentences in this book carry an important story which should be known the entire planet.
I read the last words from the last sentence in the last page inside a crowed bus. Just as I was done I had to hold back the teardrop trying to burst out of my right eye. Reading this book every morning reminded me how fortunate my life is and what most of us complain about is lacks any weight. Even before I read this book I knew of the atrocities ISIS had done but to read what Nadia and the Yazidi people in Iraq had to endure kept me sighing in grief, repugnance and concern. Sorrow for the souls that have suffered. Concern for how such evil erupts. Disgust for the brutality people are capable of maintaining themselves to achieve.
