I Was Saddams Prisoner
Foreword
In the name of Allah, the Most High. Salawat upon Muhammad, the last of the Prophets, and his immaculate progeny.
* *
Six months after my release from the fateful detention in Iraq under
Saddam's Ba'thist regime, I sat down to write my experience. When the
essay, divided in twenty small chapters was ready, I gave it to my
chosen friends and relatives to read.
They advised me against printing it. Several reasons were advanced.
Meshed in the web of these disincentives, I kept the essay hidden
away.
And then one morning, I woke up with an inexplicable urge to join hands
with the oppressed Muslims throughout the World. I decided to publish my
essay, and join the chorus of agony and anguish white the whack of the
tyrants' whips continues unabated.
There in the distant countries, I can see an old mother, expectantly
peeping out of a small window, waiting for her son to return. I can see
a bride who wakes up every morning to find that her husband is not by
her side. I can see the small innocent faces of children questioningly
looking at their mothers, to find out when father would return home,
bearing with a loving smile, his hands full of small gifts.
And on the other side of the corridor, I see the blindfolds, the
shackles, the whips and the blood streaming from the bare backs of the
young and old Muslims. I can hear them moan and whine. With them, I join
to raise a feeble cry.
May Allah, in His Mercy, help Islam, as ever.
1984
ABU JAMEEL