• April 8, 2016
  • 5 minutes read

Mohamed Abdeen, Died two Years Ago While Waiting to Visit His Wife in Qanater Prison

Mohamed Abdeen, Died two Years Ago While Waiting to Visit His Wife in Qanater Prison

 Today is the second anniversary of the death of detainee Rasha Munir’s young husband at the gate of Qanater Prison while waiting to visit her.

That was my first time at the prison. I was there to visit my sister who was in her first days of detention.

Rasha’s husband was a young man called Mohamed Abdeen, who happened to be standing right next to me as we waited for the gate to open. I knew from the first moment I saw him that he came to visit a political prisoner. I tried to approach and talk to him. But he looked extremely exhausted.

One of Abdeen’s children asked him: "Daddy… Is Mama coming home with us, today?" Abdeen smiled and replied: "God willing!"

Moments later, Abdeen fell unconscious to the floor. His young children stood bewildered calling for help, though blissfully unaware that they would go back home, this time, without their mother, and without their father, too.

Then, the gate opened, and I went in with my family to visit my sister – moving into a forecourt where I immediately saw my sister and Rasha. They stood leaning on a barbed-wire fence between them and the forecourt, searching for their loved ones, waiting for them to file in for the visit. I glimpsed Rasha fixing her gown as she prepared to meet her dear husband.

She had not seen him for months.

Rasha finally began to realize that something was not normal. The sadness and sympathy in our eyes told her that something terrible had happened. Rasha then asked a prison guard about her visitor. The guard shouted curtly: "You have no visitor… Go back to your cell!"

Meanwhile, Abdeen arrived at the hospital, already dead. They found in his pocket a letter addressed to his wife. This read:

"My dear beloved wife…

I miss you so much, my most precious sweetheart. Your absence transformed me into a completely different man who lives without a soul. Every day, I say "the anguish will disappear, God willing". Every night, I remember how we used to hug our children in-between us to keep them warm.

I never realized before that I love you so, my Rasha. Everywhere and every corner of our apartment reminds me of you. I cannot stay in the apartment without you at all. But, God willing, the anguish will disappear. We will be together soon, happily ever after. Everything will change in our lives – for the better.

Your husband,

Mohamed Abdeen."