Please Morocco: free my husband for Valentine’s Day
By Abla Chekkouri
Valentine’s Day will soon be upon us. It has been 14 years since I last saw my husband Younous Chekkouri. Now there is a chance that I might see him again soon, to have him in my life again after all this lost time.
Younous spent 13 years in Guantanamo Bay, detained without charge or trial. Now he is being held in a notoriously brutal Moroccan prison, again held without charge or trial. Today, February 9th, there is a court hearing at which a Moroccan judge will decide my husband’s fate. I hope beyond hope that the judge will finally set my husband free.
You might think that after thousands of days lived apart, Valentine’s Day would just be another day. But it is not. On Valentine’s Day I am reminded even more than usual that I am meant to be with my loved one, but that I am without him.
On 16 September last year, the U.S. Government finally set Younous free from Guantanamo — after 13 years — and sent him back to Morocco. Younous and his lawyers at Reprieve had been afraid for many years that a return home would risk Younous being tortured and mistreated, and possibly even imprisoned. Because of these fears, we were told that the U.S. Government had negotiated diplomatic assurances with the Moroccans, ensuring, we were told, that Younous would not be imprisoned for longer than 72 hours and that he would not be charged. Younous told me that the Moroccans understood that all the allegations against him were false, that they were based on confessions made under torture and bribery of desperate fellow prisoners at Guantanamo. Finally a future for him, and for the two us, seemed within arm’s reach.
When I was told that Younous had landed in Morocco, I dared to believe for a sweet moment that our nightmare might soon be at an end. Life, just for that moment, seemed colourful once more. I dared to believe that we would soon be back together. But that hope faded just as quickly as it was ignited. The sense of hurt and helplessness I have felt for the past fourteen years returned.
It has now been over four months since Younous was transferred to Morocco — buoyed by promises of freedom — and he is still in prison. The hearings have been delayed and delayed and delayed again. Today will be the fifth hearing in front of the investigating judge and I am frankly not sure how many more Younous, and I, will be able to bear.
The U.S. Government decided in 2010 that Younous posed no threat to anyone, including the US and all its allies. Six U.S. agencies — including the CIA, the FBI and the Departments of Defense and State — examined his case very closely and all agreed he should be cleared for release. The Obama administration has since admitted in a US court that they withdrew almost every allegation against Younous because they had no reliable evidence. Despite all this, Younous is still in prison. Despite all this, Younous and I are still apart. Despite all this, I am still facing Valentine’s Day alone.
Younous’ lawyers have told me he is but a shadow of his former self. The assurances from the Moroccan government have been exposed as false promises and lies. At the same time the U.S. Government is standing idly by and not using any of its considerable might to help free him from prison.
I can only hope that the Moroccan judge will do the right thing today and finally release my husband. I stand ready to guide him on his first steps into freedom — and to build a new future with him. One day I hope that our lives will no longer be marked by these years apart. I still dare to believe that we will spend the next Valentine’s together, for the first time in 14 long years.
