Mohieddine Hachicho

My name is Mohieddine. On September 15th 1982, as I was sitting at home reading a book, armed men stormed into my house and demanded I go with them for investigation.

My wife and children were terrified. Yet, - in fear of worsening the situation – they did not protest. But my fate had already been sealed. I was never to return home again. Oussama (18 years old), Huda (15 years old), Mona (11 years old) and Mazen (9 years old) spent years waiting for me to come back. However, the ongoing disappointment took a toll on them so they moved away from this country. Away from this place that had forced them to live nearby their father’s kidnappers, kidnappers from whom no account was requested.

My wife Najat never stopped fighting. Having recognized the faces of three of my abductors, she filed a complaint. Armed with only her courage and her determination, she confronted them wanting to hear their confessions, and finally discover the truth behind my fate.

But even her right to know was taken away from her. After twenty eight years of trials, adjourned hearings and political pressure, all charges against the three defendants were dropped.

Despite the bitterness of the situation, Najat did not give up, she is still standing on her own two feet, side to side with other families of missing. She also spends a part of her time abroad, beside our children who are now raising families of their own.

On September 15th 2012, thirty years – day by day – after I got kidnapped, my granddaughter Jana saw the light. Her birth was both a great joy and a weird coincidence in our family. It happened as if to reiterate that despite the pressures exercised to conceal the truth, her grandfather will never be forgotten.

My name is Mohieddine Hachicho. Do not let my story end here.