Captured

Found recently in an abandoned storage building in Chad, reprinted for legibility:

I write this on day twelve of my internment. The conditions are worsening and I fear not many of us will get out of this alive. With this concern and a heavy heart I lay down what I hope is not my final testament. To my friends and family I place these words here in the hopes that they never need to be read by them. I hope it will offer some consolation and record of the events that came to pass in the case that I don’t make it back.

My envoy was on its way to Ati, Chad. I was planning on writing a very serious article investigating the human trafficking out of Africa and was narrowing down on one of the key parts of the trade. I had hired out two bodyguards and one guide to get us around the country. I had just located a source that was willing to meet with me. Our envoy was travelling with three other tourists and one diplomat heading to a new appointment in Chad.

From what I can gather, we were just a few kilometers outside of Ati when the ambush took place. A hiding semi truck smashed into the first vehicle in the convoy. From there one could hear screams, guns, and see flashes of bullets. My ears started to shut down and everything became a blur of slowness. The bodyguard sitting next to me in the back of our vehicle took a hit, I would guess in an artery, and I was drenched in syrupy blood. I could feel it drip down my face, and the taste of iron entered my mouth, one doesn’t tend to think about keeping their mouth closed in these situations. Once most of the initial shock had passed we were all pulled out and secured with our hands behind our backs. I could feel the ropes burning against my wrists. Hoods were placed upon us, if only I knew this would be the last time I would see the sun, I would have tried to take it in more.

The darkness of the ride to our holding area was jarring, I’m pretty sure I was lying next to the dead bodyguard, his lifeless body weighing in on me. There were many bumps and turns, but it all blurred together into a nightmarish surreal trial. We were then thrown into separate cells. Very confined spaces. Concrete. It couldn’t have been more than six feet in any direction and no way to find any comfort. There was some repugnant hay on part of the floor, perhaps their idea of a place to sleep or feel some sort of comfort.

At night I hear the screams from the others who were with us. The sounds become weaker and sadder each time and I’m sure there are less of us now. Every now and again they pull me out and yell at me in a language I don’t understand and find new ways to torture me. I haven’t eaten any food since we were brought here. The only water I have had, I found dripping down the wall. It tastes like mold and sorrow, but for survival, one would be surprised what they are willing to do. I’m amazed they haven’t found my moleskine and what’s left of the pencil I keep hidden in the cell.

I hear them coming for me again. I hope someone finds us and frees us soon. I miss you Jenn, my love will always be with you. Hans and Jenny, daddy loves you.

-V-