I thanked Allah, praised him and asked Him for a miracle regarding my family being put together. I called on Him saying, “You are the One who gathers. Gather me and my family here!”

I later awoke to the sound of a voice at the reception desk. It was a familiar voice, a young boy explaining why he wasn’t in school. It was the voice of my son! I jumped up and yelled his name through the door. He ran past the police to the door crying, “Dad? Is that you?” They opened the door and he embraced me without any hesitation. We cried together in each other’s arms… The police asked me: “This is your son?” It became obvious that their bringing him to that police station was unintentional.

I asked Musa what had happened. He told me that his mother got sick and the brothers told him that they were taking her to the hospital. This was miles and miles deep in the jungle on the road to Kenya. They clearly said this not to upset him. Muhammad had been with the men bringing the women over the border. He told me that jets had attacked them and everyone fled. He said that he saw his “uncle” getting his stomach blown out.

He explained that he got down, and when they came again he ran into the trees. The brothers called out to him, but he couldn’t find them. He got lost in the jungle for two nights, surviving on berries and dirty water that he’d found. He would retrace his steps back to where they were camped. He told me that everything was black and burnt. Even the wheels on the car were melted. Musa found his way to a village where “a man with a cow” took him in and fed him. Later this man handed him in to the Kenyan military. The next day, all my children were reunited with me, alhamdulillah!

I had to tell my son about his mother… I explained that I had something to tell him that will be difficult. He stood there awaiting this important news as if nothing was wrong. I said, “Your mother has left this world my son.” He said, “No Dad, they took her to the hospital.” I told him: “Son, they said that to you so you wouldn’t get upset…I’m sorry; your mother died.” He looked at me weeping, and without a tear in his eye he looked towards the heavens and said, “Allah has willed it. InshaAllah I will see her in Paradise”

I could not believe how well he took it; how faithful a reply! I hugged him and said, “I’m sorry.” He told me, “It isn’t your fault Dad! You did the best you could do!”

I am a 28 year old man who has been through a lot, and my heroes are a woman who has left this world and a nine year old boy…

Echoes of Guantanamo–Style Treatment

Eventually, my children and I were taken out of prison and put on a plane heading for America. I had to sign papers to temporarily grant custody to my parents seeing that I was “in quite a bit of trouble” — as the FBI agent put it.

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