Nouriyya Ali al-Dif

My husband, Ali al-Hawas al-Mutlaq al-Bahr, came from Mayadin, and I was born in Abu Hamam in 1974. We got married and lived comfortably, raising four boys and four girls. After the birth of my second daughter, I requested that we live independently from his family in a separate home.

 

He worked at the government’s Agriculture Extension Office but still managed to build two rooms for us to live in. Our life was going well until ISIS emerged. Initially, there were mixed feelings and news about the group, but we were preoccupied with our daily lives so did not pay much attention to who was ruling us. ISIS took control of the oilfields and appointed employees to guard them. Soon after, the Hisba Diwan (religious police) began patrolling the streets, arresting women who did not cover their faces and intervening in every aspect of life, both big and small.

 

The people rejected this treatment and rose against them. In response, ISIS arrested all the Shaitat members employed at the oilfield in the desert. At that time, we had no information about what had happened to the detainees. Then ISIS besieged the Shaitat towns from all sides for 12 days, gathering their troops everywhere.

 

As the siege intensified, with water and electricity cut off, we stayed in our homes to shelter from the heavy gunfire around us. Eventually, many people were forced to leave – we were among the last to depart. Those with vehicles left first, taking livestock and belongings with them. I recall my brother-in-law coming to my husband and telling him, “There is nobody left here except you. You have to leave with us.” He brought us a vehicle, and we left with only a few of our belongings.

 

After reaching the town of Bahra, we stayed in a tent. Our days and nights blurred together as we couldn’t rest with ISIS constantly patrolling. The men and young boys hid in the fields to avoid detection. One day, a patrol chased someone riding a motorbike and shot him in a public street, causing him to fall from the bike. Then a patrol came to the house next to our tents and questioned the owner to see if he was hiding any members of the Shaitat clan. He replied that he only sheltered women and children.

 

Despite the dangerous situation, my husband insisted on riding his motorbike to check on his relatives in the area. The women pleaded with him to go in his place to take care of necessary matters, but he did not listen, insisting that ISIS would not harm him because he had not joined the fighting and had nothing to do with the conflict over oil. Additionally, he had a disability affecting his hand and foot due to a previous bout of hemiparesis.

 

One day, he went to Hajin at his mother’s request to receive a money transfer sent by his brothers in the Gulf. We asked him to give us his ID card so that we could collect the transfer on his behalf, but he refused and insisted on going himself. In the morning, I left him asleep while I went to make bread in the kiln. When I returned, I found him gone, and was told that he had left. That was the last time we saw him. When he did not return by midday, we became worried, since it is only a two hour round trip to Hajin.

 

We waited for three days, until August 22, 2014, before I set out to search for him with a female relative. At that time, I did not think he had been arrested. Whenever I met one of his relatives, they told me that they had seen my husband that day but had not seen him or heard anything about him afterward.

 

Four days after his disappearance, I learned that a woman had hidden the motorbikes of men arrested at checkpoints in her house. I went there and, from a distance, I recognized Ali’s motorbike. The owner of the house described the arrest, telling me that an ISIS patrol had ambushed passersby from a hidden corner. She told me that, due to his disability, he was unable to get into ISIS’s vehicle, so two ISIS members carried him and threw him outside.

 

[With my husband gone] I became responsible for my family, and started working as a seamstress and tailor to provide for us. Later, my in-laws pressured me to move to Mayadin, where my family lived. At first I refused, because I was waiting for any information about Ali. We were hearing conflicting news – some said that he would not return, while others claimed he was killed. People advised me to go to Mayadin, suggesting that we might find him in one of the prisons there.

 

I eventually went to Maydan and stayed with my children at my family’s home for approximately two months. During that time, I visited various prisons asking about my husband, but I didn’t receive any answers. After a while, someone I knew advised me to stop my efforts since I hadn’t received any results, stating that all those arrested during that time had been killed. My in-laws asked me to join them in the village of Sousa, where they were staying in a house under construction without heating or electricity – just walls and a roof. We managed to close the windows as best we could.

 

Finally, we heard about negotiations to arrange our return to our towns, on the condition that each family wanting to return provided ISIS with a rifle. Those who were better off donated to help the less fortunate, and we eventually managed to secure the money for a rifle. Upon our return, we found our house looted but otherwise in the same modest condition.

 

During our return, we heard that there was a surprise waiting for the Shaitat families, which we thought would be the release of those detained in ISIS prisons. However, news began reaching us that the bodies of people executed by ISIS had been discovered in the desert. I went to my mother-in-law and asked her to go instead of me. She went with my husband’s brother and searched for him among the bodies for three nights. By that time, the bodies had already decomposed, and identification could only be done through their clothing and official documents.

 

I received a call from my mother-in-law asking me to describe his clothes, which I did. She confirmed his death, telling me that they had found clothing matching my description, but that she was not allowed to approach the body. The bodies were buried in secret the next morning because ISIS had not permitted it on the first day. I now know that my husband was arrested on August 20, 2014, but I do not know the date of his death.

 

Before his death, Ali dreamed of expanding our house. He had already built the foundations for an additional room before our displacement. He left home saying he would resume construction upon our return but, when we returned, the foundations remained unchanged. We could not hold a funeral for him or bury him properly. I couldn’t even cry openly when I heard the news of his death.