Khalil Abou Zeki

Everything was set. Our passports alongside our plane tickets were carefully arranged. In two days, the five of us will be in Germany, on the verge of starting a new chapter in our lives. The children were overly excited...

Before leaving, I had to go on a round trip to Syria to collect some spare parts for trucks which the company I worked for had requested. I had planned to visit the Latakia port on Saturday and to be back home by Sunday.

Yet Monday morning, when it was time for us to head to the airport, I still had not come back. My relatives soon became worried. It was evident that the only reason I would miss my flight to Germany is if something wrong had happened to me. The passport control records at the border had shown that I had evidently entered the Syrian territory. This was the only trace that was left of me.

As a result of my disappearance, our life fell apart on June 13th 1987.

After I disappeared, my wife Dalal could not endure the situation. Overwhelmed with sorrow, she lost the strength to go on and felt unable to raise our three children alone. Seven months after that tragic day, she left, leaving Abir who was 9 years old, Manal who was 8 years old and Bahaa who was 5 years old to the care of their grandparents.

With time, my children became accustomed to living in my absence, and went on to build their own lives. But up until this day, my eldest daughter Abir lives with a great sense of guilt. She condemns herself for her comfortable lifestyle, for laughing and even for living, while her father can still be alive and held behind bars. With eyes full of tears, she pictures herself finding me and telling me: “I am sorry I let you down”.

My name is Khalil Abou Zeki. Do not let my story end here.