Kariman Ahmad

My name is Kariman. I was born on January 23rd 1956. I was not yet 20 years old when the war in my country broke out, but I was old enough to throw myself into it and experience it first-hand. I became a medical nurse, and spent long days and nights doing relief work and social support. During that time, I also got married and became the proud mother of Rasha and Ziad. From that perspective, life did go on during the war.

I come from a big family; my parents bore eight children. Today, only one of my siblings remains in Lebanon; for the others have emigrated. As for me, no one ever knew what happened to me since that day in June 1986.

As I was on the way back from visiting my parents while looking forward to seeing my children, somewhere between Beirut and Saida I was kidnapped. The war had been going on for ten years, and even though I was deeply passionate about helping my community, my wish was to relocate with my two children and to settle somewhere safe and quiet; where I could pursue further studies and where my children could grow up without the sound of bullets and explosions.

I was 30 years old and that was my dream the day I was forcibly disappeared along with thousands of people like me who had similar dreams that vanished on one dark day of the war.

My name is Kariman Ahmad. Do not let my story end here.