Nicolas Haidar

My name is Nicolas. I was the head of the post office at Fih, in the Koura district.

I complied with my responsibilities very meticulously, carefully maintaining good relations with both my employees and the villagers. My house was always full of visitors who appreciated my generosity and hospitality.

At 57 years old, I had only few years left before retiring. I was already picturing spending my days caring for my olive trees and playing cards with my friends.

But my dreams were suddenly shattered on January 11th 1979.

It was raining heavily on that winter day. A car parked outside my house and two men stepped out of it. They knocked on my door telling me about a mail they would like to send to their relative. My wife Asma invited them in and offered to make them some coffee.

Once seated in our living room, the two men mentioned they had someone waiting for them in the car. So I went outside to invite him in but as soon as I reached the car, the two men forced me inside and drove off.

My name is Nicolas Haidar. Do not let my story end here.