In fact I didn't think about fear much at the time. I felt angry about everything that was happening around me: the violence of the dictatorship and the violence of society.

Losing hope means ceasing to love my son and my girlfriend and many friends and people around the world.

The trail of "secret migration" was a shock to me. I knew a little about the difficulties, just bits of news in the media.

Knowledge and imagination are the life buoy and the extra lung for breathing outside the walls of a tainted reality.

Whenever we went out to film in the street we would end up in the police station and in the offices of some other security agency. They deliberately intimidated us. I moved to Kurdistan and changed my name and made my first feature film in Kurdistan with very basic resources.

One of the Baathists once told me, "If you're not careful, I'll have you put away," and those words meant death.

While I was studying film at the Academy, the problems started. I wasn't a political activist directly in the time of Saddam [Hussein], because the dictator was so cruel and brutal that no one could criticize or complain. I felt futile and empty. The only solution in Iraq was to run away.