Politics have interested me from a very early age. I have no explanation for this, except that perhaps I was trying to show off in front of my elder sister and younger brother. Because my father watched the news a lot, and followed current affairs closely (part of his job anyway, as a diplomat), I did too. So that I could impress him with my ‘grown-up’ knowledge. Anyhow, that interest continued to grow with me, surpassing sibling rivalry.

What I find compelling is not so much the machinations and deliberations of politics that go on behind closed doors, but the way the resulting events seem to grow tentacles that touch every person’s life. Even those who try to avoid politics sometimes find themselves submerged in events they have no control over. During the years we lived abroad, I found that telling people I was from Libya always brought forth a strong reaction. There were those who were well-informed and asked concerned questions, but most just repeated wrongly what they heard or read in the media. Consequently, I appointed myself a defender of my country- although I do admit that being very young then, I often found myself at a loss for words, unable to explain everything happening back home. Yet, I stoically stood my ground: I was proud of my country, right or wrong.

After my return, when my friends were dreaming of weddings and perfecting their culinary skills, I remember writing to the former Austrian Chancellor, Bruno Kreisky, to thank him for visiting Libya despite the hostility of other Western nations towards us. I was pleasantly surprised to receive a reply from his office, along with some pamphlets about Austria, which I treasured for years.

Always preoccupied by how we were perceived by the world, I wrote to a lady in America who had written to express her sympathy for the Libyan people after the American-British airstrike against Tripoli and Benghazi in 1986. The letter was printed in the ‘Jamahiriya’ newspaper and many people I knew believed that the letters supposedly sent from foreigners were faked by the newspaper. Of course, I couldn’t let that pass. I had to prove them wrong. The lady replied and we’ve kept up a sporadic correspondence over the years.

However, idealism, like youth, doesn’t last forever. Eventually, I had to grow up and accept the painful realities surrounding me. What with the aftermath of Lockerbie, the U.N. sanctions, and the torment of years of separation from a loved one, there was no place any more within me for romantic visions of ‘us against the world’. Now, many years later, those memories are still with me and I realise that many old questions have been answered, many old conflicts resolved. Facing up to the past, mending what can be mended, is starting to have a positive effect on Libya and its people.

For this to continue, there has to be even more openness in dealing with crucial issues concerning Libyan citizens. In line with the objectives of the “Libya al-Ghadd” programme –headed by the Gaddafi Development Foundation- no subject should be swept under the carpet anymore and a wall of silence built around it.

Which is why I’m writing today. Not to inflame emotions or to stir up any unresolved issue I hear about, but because I am a Libyan woman who thinks about the world of her country and its people, despite the faults and the wrongs of the past. And because other Libyans feel the way I do, wanting to go forward, not backwards. I believe that we are all committed to the future. So, for our past, present and future commitment and dedication to the country, our intelligence shouldn’t be insulted by keeping us in the dark about anything. We are Libya.

When we speak of the "Watan" –the Homeland- we mean not only the land, but also the ties that bind us together as a people.

If the past has taught us anything, it’s what we don’t want. The negative aspects we’ve lived through shouldn’t have any lingering malignancies, and the only way to achieve this is by writing or talking about every subject concerning us. No matter how painful the process may be.

Aren’t we mature enough now to bear it?