[zzze]

continued...

Surviving in the Jungle

After my family had left to the border, I left with the brothers. To make a long story short, we were surrounded by helicopters attacking all units around us from mid-afternoon to maghrib (sunset). The next day we were ambushed…many died in that ambush…for those who survived along with me, we ended up wandering in the jungle with literally nothing to eat! Our water ran out as well…The following day we were so very thirsty, we would lick the dew of the leaves in the jungle! We would search for water for two days since our last drink. We would make du’a (supplication) for water while walking…We, after not finding water, reminded each other that we should seek forgiveness, for the one from sin will have his du’a answered. Sure enough, about a mile ahead was some water. I can remember all of us weeping and thanking Allah while prostrating. I can still hear one of them panting while saying “Allahul Kareem” (Allah is the Most Generous) over and over again. We would sit on the edge of this waterhole with a shell we’d found and use it as a cup. One would fill it and pass it to another who would pass it to another. There were to be many days like that…

For two weeks we did not eat at all except for one time at the very beginning of our wanderings. One day we came out to a Savannah area; it looked like something out of Lion King! We were careful, as helicopters were still in the sky and we were obviously being hunted by them. We would stay along the edge of the jungle area until we felt it was safe to actually go out into the long-grassed Savanna.

Suddenly one of the brothers caught a baby gazelle that seemed to just stand there, waiting for us. A brother took out a simple razor from his pocket. He pointed the animal towards the Qibla (direction towards Makkah) and we slaughtered it according to the noble shareeah (Islamic Law). We had one lighter (which later broke), a few packs of season that my wife had given me, and garlic that we used for antibiotics. We praised Allah and ate. After this we would not eat anything except leaves and an occasional snail for two weeks. Keeping our tongues wet with the remembrance of Allah did more for us than the occasional waterhole…and they were few. For those two weeks we would go a day, sometimes two, without water. We walked and walked, malnourished and thirsty. We became so malnourished that our skin began to feel tight around our ribs.


We came to another open area one day, but this one had much water. In fact, there was the jungle behind us and miles of shallow water in front of us. We needed to make it to the other end (where the jungle began again). We walked through this chest-high water from mid-afternoon to the next morning…It was extremely hard on us, seeing that we could not rest or sit down, because the water was chest-high! By the time we got out, it was almost Fajr time. I don’t think that I have ever been so cold in my life! I remembered that Umm Muhammad (may Allah accept her) had given me these packets that warm up when you open them. So I used them with the brothers. Strange, I remember asking her: “What in the world would I need hand-warming packets for in Africa?” She simply said: “You never know…”

A bit before this incident, I had a dream of her. (I didn’t know she had passed away). She was wearing a blue silk hijaab and her face was uncovered (she always appeared veiled outside). This hijaab stretched out as far as I could see. I had to climb up it! I then lay next to her, stared into her eyes and said: “I love you…” She replied “I love you 63 times.” To this day, I wonder about the meaning of that dream.

Some nights later, a brother told me that he had a dream about my family – although he had never met my wife. Mind you, I didn’t know about her death yet. He said that my wife was at a long white table that had such beautiful food on it. My children were running around playing. My wife then said to them, “Patience, patience he will be with us very soon.” In retrospect, I find these dreams to be amazing.

Arrest and Imprisonment in Kenya

So it is that we would, after thirsting and starving for two weeks, find a small village in Kenya. Being the villagers were Muslims, [some] spoke Arabic. They fed us and gave us water. I remember walking into the village with all the brothers and falling prostrate to Allah crying and thanking Him for what seemed like an hour!

We were brought to a Masjid (mosque) where we could finally rest. After getting bombed, shot at with bullets whizzing by my head, having friends die, starving and sleeping in ant and tic infested areas, I barely noticed a rat in the masjid crawling on my leg. “Akhee (brother), there’s a rat!” I brushed it off me like you would a fly; I was so exhausted.

Suddenly someone yelled out “Soldiers!” The Kenyan military stormed in, pulled us out, laid us on the ground and beat many of us. Then we were thrown half-naked onto a truck on top of each other, to be driven through the jungle to the next town, in the freezing cold night. Thrown out of the truck, we were pushed around, beaten some more, laughed at, humiliated and filmed, then thrown into a dark, dirty cell. Four walls and a bucket, that’s it. Suddenly I and a Yemeni brother started singing “Ghurabaa” (The Strangers). We even wept. That night we would be pushed around, beaten and interrogated by the Kenyan police.

The next morning, we were woken up to be cable-tied, blindfolded, mocked at and thrown into a truck that brought us to a helicopter. We were thrown off the truck onto the ground and put on the helicopter, then taken to an airport and put on a plane. The whole flight we were mocked and threatened whilst blindfolded and cable-tied. The brothers and I heard a sister on the plane with kids. One brother asked: “Are you okay, sister?” Suddenly one of the police or soldiers came around and said, “Shut up!” The he told her, “If you speak again, I will tape your eyes shut.” No one would utter a word throughout the whole flight to Nairobi…Wondering if I could sneak a peek to see what was going on, I noticed that the baby and the little girl were my daughters! Frantically, I would try to peer everywhere I could to see if my wife was seated close by. All I could think was: “Oh Allah! Where is she? She would never leave the baby with someone else. Where is our son Muhammad?”

After landing, I would be pulled off the plane with the others. I could not contain myself. I asked the sister while being pulled off, “Sister! Do you know my wife?” She quickly responded “Yes!” I asked where she was, and the sister replied “Your daughters are fine.” I exclaimed while being roughly pulled off: “My wife and my son?” She again stated: “Your daughters are fine; they are okay.”

[Note: More can read about this sister and her imprisonment alongside Daniel’s children in a report by Cageprisoners: http://www.cageprisoners.com/download.php?download=56 ]

I was thrown to the ground on my knees. I could hear cameras snapping and people around me. One man came and asked where I was from. After telling him, I said: “There is a woman on the plane who knows my wife. Is my family okay?” He left, then came back and said, “Your family is fine...”


The others and I were then shipped off to a prison barefoot, malnourished and extremely dirty. The cell was cramped with about twelve of us. It was very dirty, with just one bucket to share as a toilet. We would pass the time by praising and remembering Allah. I never made so much dhikr (remembrance) in my life. Every night, you could find each of us standing in prayer on and off – as if it were an intended rotation.

The police would constantly pull us out to interrogate us, one at a time, every other day or night. Many of us were threatened with death along with getting shipped back to Somalia and being handed to the Ethiopians! The days seemed to take forever…When we would ask about our embassies out of curiosity, they would quickly reply: “Your embassies know you are here. They don’t care about you.”