Book Excerpt: Dark Days—The story of four Canadians tortured in the name of fighting terrorism

Shining a light

by Kerry Pither on Wednesday, November 5, 2008 12:00am - 1 Comment

—————-

SPRING 2008

Abdullah has visible scars. The nail on one of his big toes is deformed from the falaka—the beating on his feet. He has scars on his right ankle from where the flesh tore away and on his right wrist from being suspended. It took years to diagnose the source of some his most debilitating pain. Now he’s in physiotherapy for soft-tissue injuries. After four years of working to regain his strength and stamina, he was thrilled to be able to play basketball with his kids for about five minutes. His wife, Khuzaimah, is constantly reminding the children about their father’s physical limitations. “What they hear from my wife is, ‘Your father can’t do this because he has a fragile body. He needs a place to rest comfortably.’ I have a fragile body. This is the reality,” Abdullah says.

Abdullah remembers what happened when and is a confident public speaker. He thinks that talking about what he endured helps him cope. He has assembled an hour-and-a- half-long PowerPoint presentation documenting his experience, which he takes to church halls, schools, and conferences. But while he is describing being stuffed into a tire or suspended and whipped, his face is often expressionless. He shows very little emotion and has had to work hard to remember to use the words I or me instead of talking about his experience in the third person. Dr. George Fraser of the Ottawa Trauma and Anxiety Clinic says Abdullah is suffering from major depression and posttraumatic stress disorder. Abdullah’s “coping strategy of blocking out emotional feelings and emotions … in order to cope with his isolation” has made reconnecting with his family and friends difficult.

Abdullah finds it hard to trust people, especially officials with government and police, and says he feels socially isolated. “Some people have made it clear they don’t want to associate with me. They know me, I did them favours in the past, but now they don’t want to know me … and people who know me walk by as if they don’t know me. But not everyone is afraid. Others who I never thought would be supportive are.” He worries most about the impact on his wife and children. “I am learning how to be a father again, because for two years I wasn’t a father. I’m not patient enough with the kids, but it’s better now than before.” He credits his wife, Khuzaimah, for her strength. “I don’t know how she managed, but she walked a fine line and managed to keep the whole family together.” Since he was released, Abdullah and Khuzaimah have had their sixth child, another boy, who is very close to Abdullah. It has been hardest to bond, Abdullah says, with his second-youngest son, who spent all but the first weeks of his first two and a half years without his father. “For all the kids, I missed two years, which, for each of them was important in different ways to learn something from me. The youngest ones, for bonding. The older ones, for exploring.”

Abdullah remembers how much of what he calls his “real education” came from watching his father and uncle run their businesses. “My kids do not have this. Now they’re learning what? They’re learning about torture. They’re learning about a father who is broken.”

Abdullah has flashbacks and nightmares. His are triggered by things like the sight of a car tire, the size and layout of stalls in some public washrooms, the sound of screaming on the television, and some insects. He has trouble reading and concentrating, and sometimes forgets how to say words. “I can remember the word but can’t say it. There are certain words that just do not come anymore.”

Abdullah wonders how he’ll ever work again. “Engineering and business are part of me. I loved my company because I was able to combine both. Now not being able to do either, part of me is gone, and I constantly feel its absence.” He can’t sit in front of a computer for more than an hour without experiencing intense back pain. Even standing for a half hour hurts. And his concentration is impaired. “Combine that with being smeared. Why would anyone hire me? If I want to start a business, how could I? Is there someone who can tell me how I could start a business again? I would not do business with me, and I would excuse anyone who would not want to do business with me. If they buy products from me, they could lose their money or their reputation or get accused of links to terrorism.”

From: Dark Days by Kerry Pither. Copyright (C) Kerry Pither 2008. Reprinted with permission of Penguin Group (Canada).

Bookmark and Share
  • http://www.ReBuildingYou.com ReBuildingYou

    Personally I have endured much. But never man’s total inhumanity to man. I can’t bear this. It reminds me of why I never watch the news. I feel we have an obligation to know these things though… And to always stand up for what is right, even if it isn’t seemingly worth the trouble. Even if it easier to ignore it.

    Recently I was in a meeting with Canadian Police, finding out more about some nasty bullying behaviour that had happened… Nothing like this… But nevertheless wrong. They were defending the Police’s reason to behave that way.. And my reply to that is similar to the one that comes up for this… There is no reason – ever – to behave like a thug.

    To treat any human disrespectfully – let alone cruelly – is unnecessary and wrong. In this instance, evil. Let alone a decent man. Who forever will be robbed of his belief in his fellow man and of his future, as it was before this incident.

    And yet, even if these thugs had been interrogating a guilty man, by their behaving in such a thoroughly ignorant way, they demean all of society. All of humanity. Officials represent us. They are our servants. We must take responsibility to make sure we are represented truthfully.

    And when we discover a thug… A bully… Let’s treat him firmly and with respect. And jail him with dignity.

    I believe I am no different to millions of others when I say that when I read of something like this, I feel sick. Tears prick at my eyes. I am incredibly saddened.

    I am so sorry Abdullah. I would work with you in a heartbeat. I believe in taking every man – and woman – at face value in this moment. Those who behave decently to me receive the same respect. Always.

    I pray that your faith in humans will be restored. Faith in yourself, I suspect.

    Julie

From Macleans