The Enforced Disappearance of Mutaz Al-Shujaifi
"In the eighth hour of a February evening in 2020, Mutaz and I were at home before he ventured into the unknown. When I inquired about his destination, he assured me of his return, leaving behind his mobile phone with a drained battery," Mazen Al Shujaifi (40 years old) begins, recounting the story of his brother Muath Al Shujaifi (25 years old) who vanished forcibly four years ago.
"He was a young man full of aspirations, having obtained a bachelor's degree in graphic design and worked as an employee at the 'Mass' advertising company," Mazen continues, his voice tinged with both pride and sorrow.
"I thought he was just heading to the market to buy essentials; he had planned to visit our mother whom the circumstances of war and siege had kept him from seeing. Our mother resides in the city, and Mutaz was determined to travel to her for almost two days. Night fell, and we waited for Mutaz's return, lingering until late hours, but he never came back. Fear and worry crept into my heart, especially amidst the rampant insecurity and the harsh realities of war. To ease my troubled mind, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps he had suddenly decided to journey towards Taiz."
"Sleep eluded me, my mind consumed with wishing for his safety and praying for no harm to befall him. Long hours of anxiety and anticipation followed, yet never did it cross my mind that I would not see my brother again, especially since he was a peaceful civilian, unaffiliated with any warring faction. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, each passing moment marked by aching uncertainty and unanswered questions, a relentless ache that lingers to this day, a silent reminder of a life lost to the shadows of enforced disappearance." Mazen said.
"As the night descended into its quiet depths, enveloping me in a shroud of solitude, I found myself grappling with the need for more time to gather my scattered thoughts. Reluctant to burden our dear mother with my concerns, I waited until the following morning to seek solace in her presence, only to be met with a jolting revelation - she hadn't laid eyes on him for over two long, agonizing months. Her failed attempts to reach him echoed in my ears, a haunting reminder of his inexplicable absence." He added.
"Stumbling over my words, a sense of unease gnawed at my core as I struggled to offer reassurance, clinging to the fragile hope that he might be in the company of friends. With a heavy heart, I hastened to the corridors of justice, where I poured forth the harrowing tale of his disappearance, each word a plea for answers that seemed to elude me at every turn."
"In the solemn chambers of the Criminal Investigation Director, I unburdened my soul, recounting the details of our ordeal. His solemn pledge to delve into the shadows that concealed my brother's whereabouts offered a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf us. Yet, as the days unfolded in a haze of uncertainty, the Director's updates painted a stark picture - despite tireless inquiries in prisons and departments, the elusive trail of my brother remained cold, a riddle unsolved."
With each passing moment, my heart weighed heavy with worry for my brother, my steadfast companion in life. The world dimmed in the tear-filled eyes of our mother and siblings, a somber symphony of grief that echoed through our shared silence. As I retraced our conversations in a bid to unearth a clue, a beacon of light in the enveloping darkness, I found myself met with closed doors at every turn, each avenue leading to a dead-end in my relentless search for answers.
"I found myself making frequent visits to the Criminal Investigation Department, and at times, I would reach out to them over the phone, eager for any updates that might shed light on the situation. In the course of my relentless pursuit, a contact within the Ansar Allah (Houthi) group, who preferred to remain unnamed, shared a troubling revelation - my brother, Mutaz, was reportedly being held captive in Al-Saleh city. However, the contact made a demand for a financial payment in exchange for the opportunity to communicate with my brother, assuring me that he would reach out once the circumstances allowed, upon receiving the agreed sum."
"A fleeting sense of hope flickered within me, only to be cruelly snuffed out as the line of communication abruptly went silent, leaving us stranded once again in the desolate realm of despair. Our exhaustive search for Mutaz led us down myriad paths, each promising a glimpse of truth. Yet, we encountered tales of deception and emotional manipulation, casting shadows of doubt and uncertainty over our quest."
"Weary and worn down by the relentless pursuit of a lifeline, my mother bore the weight of Mutaz's absence with unwavering strength. His image lingered in her thoughts, a constant presence that evoked a cascade of tears and a deep ache in her heart. As the youngest and dearest of her children, his absence left a void that no amount of solace could fill. Stories of confinement and suffering only served to deepen her sorrow, drawing her into a wellspring of grief that seemed bottomless."
"Despite the trials and tribulations that beset us, my mother clung steadfastly to her faith in God, her belief unwavering in the face of adversity. With each passing day, she found solace in the conviction that Mutaz would one day return to us, bringing light back into our lives and restoring the joy that had been lost in his absence. Yet, every fleeting moment of happiness was quickly overshadowed by the ever-present anguish and the unrelenting pain that refused to be silenced," Mazen concludes.
