Those first 24 hours after my father disappeared can only be described as ‘nightmarish’. I was in London constantly on the phone to my mother and brother who was in Abu Dhabi. They had not left a stone unturned. They went to every Ministry, every police station. Hundreds of calls were made to Sheiks,Sheikas, ministers and officials in Abu Dhabi. Everyone denied any knowledge of my father. He had simply disappeared. Here in London I was making calls to the Foreign Office, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Kuwait calling literally anyone and everyone I knew of any influence for information.
The first reaction from most people was simply shock and astonishment. One Foreign Minister from an Arab country, I have to be discreet!! called his counterpart and other ministers in Abu Dhabi. Everyone denied knowledge of my father’s whereabouts. Our home in Abu Dhabi was in the Bateen area, opposite the Intercontinental. It was a beautiful house with large garden where my mother had built an aviary that was full of budgies, grouse, doves,pigeons and all sorts of exotic birds.
Several street cats prowled in the garden and our dog Plato would invariably spend the day chasing them. Perhaps here it’s a bit of poetic license but from the moment my father disappeared everything changed. Plato became quiet and refused to move from dad’s side of the bed. The cats disappeared and the birds stopped tweeting. Yes its over the top but you get the picture. Everything stopped. Family members and friends came to the house. It was full of people concerned but also frightened. Things like this don’t happen and people were terrified that by associating with us they would upset the ruling family.
My mother Khalida, a strong resilient woman, literally broke down and had to be given tranquilisers. She and my father had a passionate love for each other. They were best of friends and totally in tandem with each other. I in London didn’t know what to do. Should I go immediately to Abu Dhabi? I don’t know how or why it was decided that I should stay but there was some kind of rational that I could do more from London that in Abu Dhabi. It was diffcult being away. I was torn but could see the sense on what I was being advised.
Nevertheless, emotions and practicalities don’t always make happy partners. Being a journalist and writer I was well connected in the media. But this was way beyond me. First of all we had no idea were dad was. Second I was confronting a very very rich country, Abu Dhabi that had enormous resources and of course the Palestinian Authority. Not one Arab newspaper paper initially wanted to write about what happened to dad except the official Abu Dhabi and the PA Line which was nasty ,horrible and had no basis on fact. So we were working in the dark against what seemed to be insurmountable odds.
About 24 hours after dad had vanished, mum received a call from him. She excitedly told him she was talking to the sheiks and ‘some mistake’ had been made. He stopped her short. He was in Gaza at Yasser Arafats Presidential quarters. My mother was shocked. Not in her wildest dreams or indeed mine was it even conceived that my father had been whisked out of the country. Just like that! The relief of hearing his voice and that he was ok was soon taken over by sheer fear. This was the last time we heard from my father for months. The sheiks and those in authority in Abu Dhabi refused then as they do now to this day to say anything to us. We received a visit from one of the sheiks claiming that none of the senior sheiks or Sheik Zayed the ruler knew anything!!! MORE TO COME ON THIS
When I finally saw dad in Gaza several months later, he had aged considerably. A fit man who had walked daily for several miles, he had been isolated and without excersise for months. He looked frail but his moral was strong and he was resolute in his conviction. He detailed what had happened. After he was taken from the Intercontinental hotel by plainclothes police. He was then taken to the Bateen officers Club. This was Thursday after midnight on the 19 of April 2001. On the Saturday police officers came and told him he was wanted at intelligence headquarters for questioning. He asked to call the family. This was refused. He was put in the car, and in brief taken to the old airport where the car was surrounded by police officers. He was left in the car for some considerable time. He then saw Arafats plane land and Arafats Special Forces led by Abu Saud (Saeed Allam )descend from the plane. They went to the VIP quarters with Abu Dhabi officials and a few minutes later my dad was escorted on to the plane. He again asked to call my mother and his lawyers to no avail. He made it clear that what they were doing was illegal. In the meanwhile my mother and brother Tawfiq went to the Bateen Police Station to see Dad. He had disappeared.
The plane landed in Arish in Egypt on the borders of Gaza. Palestinain and Egyptian officials met him and drove him across the borders. My father was lost to us for several months. He was diabetic had heart problems and was without medication.
Once in Gaza he was taken to Arafats head quarters were he was allowed to make one call to my mother. Then he was taken to a flat in Gaza on 30 streets where for the next few months’ sixteen armed bodyguards surrounded him. No one was allowed to visit and no one was allowed to talk to him Enquiries from family members in Gaza regarding my father were met with threats.
The flat on 30th Street Gaza
For the next few months we had no communication with dad. He spent his days reading and watching the news. Food from the presidential place was sent daily and two doctors came to visit him. His insulin was removed. I leave you to arrive at your own conclusion. More to come. Diaries. From the moment dad was abducted I kept comprehensive diaries of every single call and incident and we have been editing them. I have not disclosed the identity of those involved except were they are already public as my dads abduction will soon be a matter of legal action.
