My mother once sarcastically told me she could allow for my death, but couldn't live with seeing my leg or hand amputated or with a lost eye after reporting from a battlefield. It was when she first learned that I had been secretly studying journalism in May 2005. The news made her distraught. She wanted me to go to school for medicine upon completing high school and become a doctor; my father wanted me to be a sheikh--an Islamic scholar. I wanted to be a journalist, but didn't dare tell them.