'Vanished' in the 'war on terror'

Fatma Ahmed Chande was cold. It was 3am and raining. The 25-year-old Tanzanian woman was kneeling on the taxi way at Nairobi's international airport. Headlights from a convoy of police vehicles punched holes in the darkness. She saw a group of blindfolded men being led towards a plane. She recognized some of the shackled women and children who followed them. A Kenyan policeman jerked Ahmed's scarf over her eyes. He tied her hands behind her back with a pair of plastic handcuffs that cut into her wrists. It was the same man who had threatened to kill her if she did not admit that her husband had supported al-Qaida terrorists in Somalia. "This is it," she thought. "I am going to die." The quiet 25-year-old from Moshi, at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, did not die in the early hours of Jan. 27. But the ordeal that had begun when she was arrested at Kenya's northern border three weeks before while fleeing the war in Somalia was far from over. Bundled aboard African Express flight AXK-527 she was about to become part of the first mass "renditions" in Africa, where prisoners accused of supporting terrorists in Somalia were secretly transferred from country to country for interrogation outside the boundaries of domestic or international law. Along with at least 85 others from 20 countries, she was flown back to Somalia–a war zone with no effective government or law–and on to Ethiopia. There, US intelligence agents joined the interrogations–photographing and taking DNA samples, even from the children. Detention On Apr. 7, three months after her arrest, Ahmed was released. Salim Awadh Salim, her husband and father of her unborn baby, is still in detention. So, too, are 78 of the other passengers aboard the three secret rendition flights. At least 18 are children under 15. Ethiopia admits holding 36 other "suspected international terrorists" but has refused to give the Red Cross access to them. The rest of the "ghost plane" passengers are missing. Recuperating at her parents' house in Moshi, Ahmed made her allegations in an interview in the hope that it would pressure Ethiopia into releasing her husband and the other prisoners. She described how she had married in 2000 and moved to the Kenyan coastal town of Mombasa, where her husband ran a mobile phone repair shop. When his business soured last year, he decided to try his luck in the Somali capital Mogadishu, where a loose coalition of clan-based courts had established law and order for the first time since 1991. She joined him in August. War was brewing. Ethiopia, backed by the US, accused the Somali Union of Islamic Courts (UIC) of links to al-Qaida. As Ethiopian troops pushed towards Mogadishu in late December, the couple joined thousands of people fleeing south by road. They joined up with two Swahili-speaking women who were also trying to reach Kenya. Halima Badroudine had three young children. Fatma Ahmed Abdulrahman had a son aged about six. "They told us that their husbands were Somalis who had stayed behind in Mogadishu," said Ahmed. The truth was more complicated. Badroudine is married to Fazul Abdullah Mohammed, a Comorian; Abdulrahman to a Kenyan named Saleh Ali Saleh Nabhan. Both men are al-Qaida members accused of prominent roles in the 1998 bombings of US embassies in Nairobi and Dar es Salaam. When the group crossed into Kenya at Kiunga, on Somalia's southern tip, Ahmed thought she was safe. But Kenyan anti-terror police identified and detained Badroudine and Abdulrahman. The problem for Ahmed and her husband, and dozens of others detained at the border at the same time, was that they too were presumed "guilty" of supporting the Islamic fundamentalists. They were separated and repeatedly interrogated. Ahmed slept on a floor in a cell with other arrested women and children. There was no water to wash. After 10 days, she was flown to Nairobi. The aggressive questioning continued. One Kenyan interrogator asked if she was willing to separate from Salim. When she said no, he beat his fist on the table. "He wanted to make me admit that my husband was a member of al-Qaida," she said. "He said he would strangle me if I did not tell the truth." She insists Salim had never had close contact with the UIC in Mogadishu–or with al-Qaida members anywhere. Though she had her Tanzanian passport with her, the police refused to acknowledge her nationality. Her husband, who had since also been flown to Nairobi, had his Kenyan passport and birth certificate, but was also documented as an "illegal immigrant." Pressure was building on the Kenyan government to lay formal charges or release the prisoners. Kenya's Muslim Human Rights Forum filed an application to force the government to produce them in court. Instead, it produced three flight manifests. The first two were African Express charters to Mogadishu on Jan. 20 and 27, one showing Ahmed and her husband among the passengers. A third, operated by Blue Bird Aviation, had flown to Baidoa, Somalia's temporary capital, on Feb. 10. In Mogadishu, where insurgents were already beginning to ambush Ethiopian troops, Ahmed was held in a tiny cell with about 20 other women and children, including a Swede, a Sudanese and a pregnant Yemeni. After nine days, they were flown to Addis Ababa, the Ethiopian capital. In the new jail, the prisoners were given mattresses, prayer mats, pizza and fruit. The Yemeni woman was taken to a hospital to give birth. A doctor discovered Ahmed was pregnant. She was spared more in-depth interrogation, but some of her cell mates were not so fortunate. "They told me the Americans were questioning them and wanted to know about their husbands," she said. US officials Her own experience with US agents was limited to being photographed, fingerprinted and supplying a saliva sample to a male investigator. And she was allowed a brief conversation with Salim, who said US officials had been questioning him. In Nairobi he had been told he was being held at the US's request. The FBI has acknowledged having access to the prisoners in Ethiopia, but denies it was involved in the renditions. "We are suspicious of allegations made by people deported from this country as undesirable elements," said a spokesman for the Kenyan government, who denied that the FBI had access to the prisoners in Kenya. "But if they feel any law has been broken they are welcome to file an official complaint." On Apr. 7 Ahmed was put on a flight to Kilimanjaro. Her escort promised that her husband and the others would be released within a week. It has now been 16 days.