Basra: When I came across a photograph of the late Iraqi poet Badr Shakir al-Sayyab’s passport on a Facebook group for antique collectors, I was in disbelief. I thought this was for sure another photoshop or AI trick.
The post showcased multiple images of the passport from various angles, as well as a stack of personal letters exchanged within the poet’s family and an old piece of paper containing what the seller claimed to be an unpublished poem by al-Sayyab.
Yet any reader familiar with the poet’s work would immediately realise that the claim was false, as the discrepancy between it and al-Sayyab’s poetry, style, and handwriting was too stark to go unnoticed.
I got in touch with the seller and group admin and became certain that this was, indeed, the poet’s original travel document. The last-ever passport carried by one of Iraq’s poetry giants, who died before it even expired on 18 July 1965, was going on Facebook for $6,000.
How did the seller get a hold of al-Sayyab’s passport? Where did his family’s personal letters come from — those pages whose writers mistook for a safe space to discuss personal matters, unaware that one day a stranger would publicly sell their private exchanges online?
Following this incident, I began to wonder: what happened to the legacy of the ‘Rain Song’ (Unshudat al-Matar) poet? What remains of his book collection and valuable possessions in a country ravaged by wars, misery, and wave after wave of internal displacement?
The seller did not disclose the source of his merchandise, so I turned to Badr’s son, Ghailan al-Sayyab, in search of answers.
Little did I know that my inquiry would reopen old wounds for a man who witnessed the destructin of his father’s legacy along with his most treasured possessions amidst a plethora of political and social events that shook the country in the past 50 years.
“His possessions have certainly been stolen,” Ghailan said with a sigh.
When asked about al-Sayyab’s belongings, library, and archive, he explained: “My father’s job required us to relocate often, so we moved around frequently, first in Baghdad and later in Basra.”
“I recall moving into at least three homes during the short period my father was still alive in Al Najibiya, Khamsin Hosh, and Al Maqal. Our last home was on Ajnadayn street, facing the entrance to Al Maqal port, near the Port Directorate.
This frequent moving of houses no doubt posed serious risk on the possessions al-Sayyab used throughout his life, which was fraught with instability.”
Moreover, al-Sayyab’s deteriorating health and the impact of his illness on his family impeded their ability to safeguard the belongings of a man fighting for his life.