Jihad Eid

My name is Jihad. Ever since I was a little boy, I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my grandfather and join the Lebanese army. I pursued my childhood dream, and at the age of 20, while I was studying for my degree in computer studies at the Lebanese University, I became a soldier. Becoming a soldier was not exactly what I thought it would be. I was not aware of the cost I would have to pay in order to serve my country.

In the year 1990 during the month of October, I was stationed with other soldiers near Saint Therese Hospital in Hadath, only 5 minutes away from my parents’ house. As the Syrian troops managed to enter our neighborhood, they started shooting at us. My foot got wounded, while my friend Claude was fatally injured. The Syrian soldiers then took me to the detention center of Beau Rivage. After being detained there for 18 days, I was sent to Anjar and finally to Syria. My parents found out about my whereabouts through a fellow detainee who had been released.

My mother spent all her savings on travel expenses to Syria. She also had to pay officers to get information about where I was detained. One year after my disappearance, she managed to find me in a Syrian prison. As she reached the prison she saw 7 blindfolded, barefoot and chained together prisoners. The face, ears and necks of these prisoners were bloody... and one of them looked like me. My mother wanted to scream, she wanted to ask which chained soldier was her son, but she was physically and emotionally incapable of saying or doing anything. She fainted. These horrible images still haunt her till this day.

Ever since that day she hasn’t stopped asking for help. She became the leader of the committee of the families of the detainees in Syria and participated in the sit ins in the tent of the families of the missing. My mother was hoping she would influence the public opinion and the authorities through showing how helpless and affected the families were. Today she feels exhausted as a result of the inactions of some and the disappointing promises of others.

My name is Jihad Eid, my mother Sonia still celebrates my birthday every year. Do not let our story end here