Khaled And Fadi Shhade

My name is Khaled. In 1984, I was 14 years old and was a student at a secondary school in Saida. I was a happy child and used to do pranks on my brother and four sisters. My mother remembers that when my father used to give me money to get a haircut, I would return home at night with my hair untouched and the money spent on ice-cream.

On March 16th 1984, I went out for the day with my brother Fadi. At first, when we did not return, my parents were not concerned immediately. They thought that perhaps, we were having so much fun that we lost track of time. However, after few hours and because of the stories they had heard about people being kidnapped in this wartime, they began to worry.

A few days passed before they asked someone they knew to help them find us. This person asked my father for $12,000 and promised him that in return we would be home before the dark. Full of hope, our father paid the money. Our mother was so happy. She spent all of her day preparing our favorite meals, and invited our family and neighbors to the house so they could all welcome us back. But hours passed and we did not return home. At midnight everyone went back to their houses. Only my parents stayed, heartbroken.

My name is Khaled Shhade. My brother’s name is Fadi. Do not let our story end here.