The Secret Diaries of Abu Zubaydah

A picture of me at five or perhaps six years old; if only I could wipe out all my past since

the moment I was born until this moment, by God, I will not hesitate one bit.

Hani

8-7-1990 AD

[TN: Bottom of page has crossed out words].

Dear Hani 2,

Finally ... and after lengthy hesitation, I decided to write to you in spite of my belief that whoever talks to himself or writes to himself -- as I am doing right now -- is nothing but crazy. However, after feeling that my world is closing in on me and that I have given up on finding a sincere and faithful friend, whom I can confide in; one who will be faithful to me just as I will be faithful to him ...

Also, after I got tired of people and became fed up with all the friends; friends of the moment, leisure, and mutual benefit, I decided finally to write to you; to myself, after ten years.

It is, I mean; this diary is a letter from "Hani" to "Hani." From Hani1 (1990 AD), that is me now, to Hani2 perhaps the year (2000 AD), that is, when I become 30 years old; which is you, Hani2. [Crossed out word] So, I am not sure if you can accommodate my worries!

Dear 30 years old Hani, [Crossed out word]

Today is June 7, 1990 AD, corresponding to, Dhu 1-Qa'dah 14, 1410 AH. Today, I have decided to write my memoirs and these words are to you. So, this will be the letter in which I complain to you, get things off my chest, and cry in your arms whenever I feel the need to share my burden, from this silly world, with someone.

Yet, I am planning on not reading what I write until I reach the age of 30; that is ten years from now, perhaps. So, I will be you; the 30 years old Hani, provided that I get to live to meet you. But, I don't believe that I will keep this diary closed. I am certain that I will read it thousand and thousand times before I get to you. Then, not [read it] even once when I get to you; that is, if I get to you.

Dear,

These memoirs are a complaint against the period between Hani1 and Hani2 (you).

*Note:

I am not a schizophrenic, which is a split personality disease; rather, I am trying to divide

myself into two parts because; I believe that everything changes with time, even human

beings. Therefore, it is inevitable that you Hani2 at 30 years of age are different than

Hani1 (I) ... Me, at 20 years young.

Excuse me, I meant 20 years old.

Hani1

[TN: The bottom of the page has crossed out words that are illegible].

June 8, Dhul-Qa'da, 14

Dear Hani ... Hani2

I believe in one thing that is; bad memoirs in a beautiful setting are beautiful, rather, they

are fabulous.

Beautiful memories in a bad setting are undoubtedly hell. But, my memories are all awful

and my surrounding, up till now, is miserable ... miserable.

I am not sure how do you evaluate bad memoirs in an awful surrounding.

I am neither a pessimist nor I am resentful, but that is the truth. It is to the extent that if I

were able to wipe off my past, all of my past since the moment I was bom until this

minute,

-the minute of writing these words, believe me that I will never hesitate one bit.

Well, I'm not sure if you still feel the same way ten years from now? Is it still the same? I

mean; when I reach Hani2, you, will I be thinking the same way? Or will I leave out

some periods of time between Hani1 and Hani2 that I will not wipe off?

Any way, as for me now, I do not deny that I have seen moments of happiness; yet, I

always, constantly, and with time discovered that this happiness was nothing but illusion

and false impression.

Likewise, it is the case with friends; whenever I say, "yes" I find myself with someone;

time will prove that I was wrong and what a mistake I have made!

I have been stabbed in the back over and over again and by a many, many swords, and by

many friends. Hence, I cried out of sorrow and pain thousand times. Friendship is a

fantasy, friendship is false.

[Drawing]

June 8,

Dear Hani, I don't know why I feel like I want to discuss my father with you! [Crossed out words].

A huge gap between my father and me was growing bigger over the days. In fact, we were not in harmony. Both of us don't understand one another and have no appreciation of each other's circumstances.

The problems between us began as I graduated from high school, rather, long before that. I am not exactly sure of when I began raising my voice at him or when I began objecting to his decisions [cross out word] concerning me. Our disagreements were always about minor matters that meant much to me, as a teenager. But he never appreciated things and I never did as well; yet, I did not attempt to understand him.

He always asked me in a screaming, reprimanding and mocking manner to fully integrate into the society I'm living in -- the Saudi Society -- by the way I dress, eat, appear, talk, behavior, and observing its traditions like he did. However, I constantly refused; simply because, I believe in the importance of my self-independence of everything even of my father himself.

I also believe in the importance of adjusting to the surrounding and the society one is living in or I am living in, for that matter; especially, when it is a Palestinian like me with no homeland, no passport and no identity.

One who was destined to be born in a country that is not his and live among people who viewed him primarily as a refugee, and sometimes their looks utter words and show feelings such as; "a burden on my country" ... while the Jews are running loose in my country ...

That look used to bother me ever since I was little. I used to ignore it but it is a fate that can not be escaped.

Sure it was! I used to adjust to my society but not to the extent that would reach full integration. For example, it is hard for me to look like a Saudi in appearance and in the way I talk; I am not like that. Moreover, the one who is talking to me can sense that I'm not and that I am mimicking a Saudi. Why is that? There is no reason to begin with. I have the right to wear whatever I want, eat whatever I want, and befriend whomever I want; not the one imposed on me by my father or due to circumstances ... and here is the problem.

I used to dread being looked down upon by the society; stateless and displaced, especially at school. Yet, sometimes I used to face it in great audacity and often I understand it and rise above it.

The important thing is my father ...

Of course, I don't hate him and had never hated him. I also know that he doesn't hate me. Rather, I sometimes feel regretful for everything I said about him, any situation where I was rude to him, and caused him embarrassment before his acquaintances in order to prove my independent personality. I did not sense these regretful moments until after I migrated -- once again -- to go study in India, these are the moments during which I'm writing these memoirs to you.

For example, when I think about what my father goes through in order to pay for my education here in India, my brother's in Pakistan, for my family in Saudi Arabia, and perhaps his own family; my grandfather and my grandmother in the occupied Palestine, I say that I feel remorseful when I think about all these things and I resent myself and my rudeness and I almost cry.

However, even here in India, his letters to me were sometimes

overwhelming. He even sent me more than one letter explaining his discontent with me for studying computer science, which can be studied in a form of courses. So, what is the use of being away and the expenses? So I curse him and sometime [his letters] are kind and make me happy; so, I can do nothing but sigh and oh what a life!

He will always be my father and I will be his son; besides, in any disagreement between the father and the son, the father is always right and the son is at fault even if the truth is quite contrary. So, the father is the father [the authority] and son is the son [submissive].

[TN: A drawing appears at the bottom of the page].

June 9,

Do you remember Muhammad Shams-al-Din Tahir? Abu 'Asbah or Sawalha. He was not just a friend; rather, I believed in friendship because of him. However, I ended up disbelieving in it because of him.

I know more than a thousand individuals and I have a thousand friends; yet, not everyone you know leaves an impression on you. That is how my friendship with

Muhammad Shams-al-Din. I knew him since early childhood, perhaps as a brother of my

brother's friend. His oldest brother is the closest friend to my brother Mahir.

Also, Muhammad was an ordinary person in school; first in grade school, we never cared

for each other. Then, in middle school it was like hello, hello.

However, in high school, he is no longer an ordinary person that I know; rather, he

became a close friend and so I was to him, perhaps ...

The years went by; sophomore year in high school, junior year and senior year final year in high school.

During the week, on school days and every Wednesday evening, there had to be a meeting. Often times, he used to visit me while I fell behind because my father did not like me to go out more often or for other reasons.

High school was over and I have a low GPA whereas he had a very good GPA, and praise be to God; I don't mean to envy him. He joined one of the Saudi universities, perhaps language Arts major, while I was waiting for an opportunity. My GPA will not admit me to any of the Saudi universities. This was not carelessness as much as a purposeful carelessness.

In the beginning, I was determined on a study that will have a good future such as; computer, cosmology, electronics, and satellites. Yet, these fields are specific to those nationals [Saudi Nationals].

After a period of time has elapsed, after I had been sitting for a while without studying in college; I began making every effort to study and not be wandering like that. As a matter of fact, ever since in junior year in high school, I knew that I have no [cross out word] future here and I cannot study computer in Saudi Arabia

even if I had a high GPA because; it is specific to Saudis. Therefore, I began

procrastinating; there is no need to work hard for nothing. It sure was a tough phase in

my life. I say that he joined -- my friend Muhammad -- a college and stayed behind

waiting for my fate.

Our friendship was growing, day after day, only him and me ... We were considered a fun

clique. Then, I began introducing him to some of the old friends, if you still remember

those names; Ra'id Fayyad and Ra'id Al-Masri. Slowly but surly, the clique grew bigger.

So, the four of us only go out together; rather, Wednesday night was a set official

rendezvous and those who violate it are punished by scolding and reprimanding.

Why Wednesday? Because, Thursdays and Fridays are the days of the weekend in Saudi

Arabia.

Up until the [cross out word] end of high school, the clique consisted of Muhammad,

Hani, Ra'id Al-Masri and Ra'id Fayyad. When we finished high school, the group

expanded to gradually include other members who used to be a part of another clique; so they [crossed out words] were consolidated

through great efforts. So the fun and carelessness clique became comprised of: Muhammad, Hani, Ra'id Al-Masri, Ra'id Fayyad, Tariq 'Ati, Yazid Abu Jabal, Muhammad Abu Madi, Ra'id Al-Shurbaji, and Rami Miqdad.

Truly, I used to look forward to Wednesday night, I hardly hear the sounding horn, especially from Ra'id Al-Masri's [car] and sometimes Ra'd Fayyad, I jump for the escape. But, I used to go back home around mid night or later. I was beat and always wondered to myself, how long will this routine last? I had no hope then to continue my college study. I was trying to submit applications to universities in America, Philippine, India, Egypt or one of the Saudi community colleges; yet no hope.

With time, our families began getting upset with us and our gatherings at one of the homes. Even we, ourselves, began to be fed up. We used to meet at the house of one of us then we go out wandering around

in the shopping areas and nothing new.

Discussions among the guys about politics, art, and sometimes literature like Muhammad and I used to do in the past. However, with the group becoming the size it is, there was time only for jokes, laughs and silly criticism of one another.

There was no place in Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia, which will accommodate us. Rather, there is no place there to work but houses for video, playing cards, empty talk and boredom; however, we were diligent in having those meetings.

At the beginning, Al-Ghutah Park, do you recall it? It was the weekly gathering spot which Muhammad and I used to go to, then Ra'id Fayyad and AI-Masri, Hamza Al-Tabish, another person.

Then, we gave up the park for house gatherings or wandering in the shopping malls. (The role of television in arousing fantasies with no way to act them out; the solution is not by suppressing freedoms, rather, it is by banning television). Anyway, in one of the month of Ramdan's nights, we had gathered at Abu-Madi's house: Muhammad, 'Alaa' Muhammad Abu-Madi - of course - Rami Miqdad, Ra'id Al-Masri, I and who else? I don't know ...

The gathering was on the roof. It started at, perhaps, nine or ten at night with few pushes, tackling, karate, dancing and laughs. Then a discussion started between "Muhammad Abu-'Asbah" and I about jihad in Palestine.

My view point states that jihad and the path to Palestine has to be strictly Islamic. Yet, he was saying that the main thing is liberation; regardless of the leader or the army even if they were not Muslims. The discussion intensifies and became a debate; each wants to prove his conviction to be right.

He and I used to argue in a civilized manner, but today, our argument became yelling then temperament and anger, then, I shouted.

I began screaming as I became fed up, "That's it, ok. End the discussion! We both are adamant about our views; so, I will not convince you and you will not convince me."

So, we were quiet for a bit; yet in the same

gathering, we would go back to the same discussion then we argue and yell until the gathering is over.

Then, it was high time to leave; we rode in Rami Miqdad's car. Ra'id Al-Masri sat next to the driver. Two other persons sat between Muhammad and me in the back. Muhammad was still making comments about what I said while I'm being sarcastic and playing with his words until he blasted out of anger, and in the midst of everyone's surprise, he left the car as if he refuses to be with me in the same car. He insisted to go back home even on foot instead of riding with me in one car. I was truly shocked. It is an insult and what kind of an insult; but, I didn't talk, I was speechless!

The others began calming him down so he returned to the car sighing. There were moments of silence; finally I said to him, "I don't know the reason for the anger! There is no reason for this rage. Ok! I am stupid and what I said was wrong." I am satisfied so long as you insist that I have to have your views.

He remained silent until the car got to his house. When he left the car, he said, "I'm sorry." But it came in late.

I am not sure why ever since that day I don't feel that Muhammad Shams-al-Din Tahir is just a friend like the rest; the impression he left in my heart is fading away.

This episode was not the only reason for my pain; yet, this incident was the reason for removing the last impression he left in my heart.

Although, I have read a poem which he wrote about me in a personal diary, and that he was apologetic in his tone for what he did and described me as the best friend. However, I read it too late, perhaps seven or eight months after that episode during which I sensed

that our relationship is fragile and can be destroyed by a silly discussion that either party is ignorant in.

Ever since that day, and despite the fact that things returned to normal, whereas we resumed our routine meetings in a normal fashion as if nothing had happened; But since that day I feel, rather, I am certain that I am lonely without friends; although, there are many in theory. Oh God!

June 13,

This date makes it almost a year for me here in India or perhaps more than a year. Ever since the First day I arrived in this country to study computer science, I have been trying to turn a new page in my life. But, the winds always expose for me pages from the past. I try not to read them; however, I recall them very well. And as they say: "One with no beginning has no end."

[TN: At the bottom of this page there are crossed out words and the following note]: "I cannot tolerate more roistering or fool myself and others."

June 14,

Today, the grades of the finals will be announced. It is the first year in computer science and it includes the following subjects: Computer, Math, Physics, Arabic, and English. Yesterday, the names of those who passed all subjects were announced and my name was not among them. So, I might have failed only one subject.

Although I have thought, God willing, that I will pass the first year and go on to the second one without having to repeat the first year, yet, I am worried.

It is the student's life, and may God help me.

June 15,

A crazy idea is going through my mind, but it is very tough to make a decision on it. The idea appears to be excellent, rather, very clever; but, the circumstances ... who can guarantee the circumstances?

June 17,

Bad luck is accompanying me as my shadow, and up till now, life refuses but to frown at me.

I come out of one problem to get into another; financially, mentally, and socially. Of course, they are not problems in the sense of the word "problem." I have always been able to find the solution, praise be to God, an I can adapt to it and try to adjust the circumstances accordingly. However, I become tired and about to explode.

My nerves can not take much pressure and I am not sure when will life smile at me. I also don't know if it is blessing that I am lacking in everything I do or is it the abundant bad luck that is following me.

I say, thank God for everything and perhaps gratitude exists in crises. I sometimes feel that this very last phrase is among a group of words that I comfort or console myself with so I don't actually explode. Oh God!

June 22,

Dear Hani,

Do you know that ...

For me, watching a movie on TV or on video was not just an incidental fancy or a way to pass time. As a matter of fact, it was an escape. I live the events of that movie as one of its characters, until the movie is over. That's when I feel down in the dumps and depressed; my escape is over with the end of the movie.

That period was the one between my high school years and the time I joined one of the Indian universities.

I used to stay up alone at night watching the movie; which was often on TV, and after the movie ended, I usually stay up objecting the fact that it ended so quickly. I always thought that due to my miserable reality, especially for being delayed in finishing my university education, I used the movies as a tool to run away from reality. However, I am a university student now and don't feel

insecure about education. Yet, I get the same feeling whenever I watch a movie here, in

the theater.

I feel depressed when it is time to leave and get scared as I am leaving. But scared of

what, I'm not sure; perhaps because I hate the outside world as it pressures me or because

I sense its filth and timeserving.

I was as if I wanted to stay in the movie theater forever, escaping my world to the world

of the movie I am watching, even if it is a silly one.

I am not sure how long will I be running away or even what is it that I am escaping from.

Oh my world!

I believe that the society I'm living in is an ignorant one. It is as ignorant as the people of the two villages; before the Prophets' time, perhaps even way before.

[TN: bottom right corner of this page has crossed out words that are illegible].

And I don't disclaim that I'm not ignorant, but what is the answer and what is the salvation.

June 25:

Insanity is a pleasure in itself. I believe that one, anyone, has the right to take time for insanity -- legal insanity -- away from courteous behavior, routine, etiquette and no etiquette; a period where he is perceived as a lunatic in people's eyes and, even, his own eyes. A short period, even if it is 15 minutes per day, should be sufficient to maintain his sanity.

As for me, I live insanity; sometimes I feel the urge to sing out loud, break the furniture in the room or even scatter it around; so I can relax, not giving much care about people, society or anything; do whatever I want without any restrictions.

I can be crazy so I don't grow to be crazy, because I have a pressing urge inside of me for insanity; thus, I give it its share so it doesn't revolt against me and stab me.

So, it is quite my right to wear shorts and run in the street even if I have exceeded a hundred years old. For example, I care less if someone says, "An old man pretending to be young" or "Does he even have the energy?" The hell with them! As long as I have the energy, I will do it; and if I choose to do so, I will.

However, sometimes I feel that I am truly crazy and the proof to that is I talk to myself; I talk to my future through my memories book and through the 30 year old Hani2 personality. That is not all, even my usual behavior rules for my insanity.

If I like someone, I become insanely truthful to that person. It is insane to love all people and not hate anyone; however, everyone hates everyone ... It is crazy to trust someone by more than 60% even if that person was my father. It is crazy to believe firmly, beyond doubt, in something. It is crazy; except for believing in God. It is the only thing that cannot be doubted and praise be to God for that, and I feel that that is my safety belt and thank God!

The true problem lies in life's intricacy among sane people; you're the only insane one among them, and vise versa!

But the problem will be easier if I find me an equal who will share my insanity with me; but, where, how and when? Thus far, I have not found this equal. How about you, Hani2? Have you found him yet? Or are you still waiting??

Life is tough in a society that is close to paganism; if I say the truth, I am considered crazy. Well, let me be crazy then; don't you think?

Hani

[TN: bottom left of this page has crossed out words that are illegible].

June 27,

Dear Hani,

Sometimes I feel a pressing urge to cry but I don't cry. Although my tears fall so quickly sometimes for a ridiculous situation; yet when I am alone, I try to cry and my tears hardly fall down.

I try to cry a lot, yet, it seems that even the tears do not want to submit to me and they oppose to my wish; just like everything in my stupid world.

Up till now, my only friend is the cigarette. Although I hate it, it is the only truthful thing to me and the one that is always by my side in my time of sorrow. When I smoke, I feel that I need to burn something; so I burn my cigarette and, in turn, it burns me.

Dear Hani,

Nothing new in my life so far; but I am in dire need to talk to someone, anyone, talk to that someone about nothing.

Since you are the only one in my world; the one that I can complain to and cry in his arms; the one I cry to without being embarrassed or worried that he might misunderstand me or tell on me. Therefore, you will definitely put up with my silliness. Sometimes, if I note down a plain memory one day, that is a couple of words like; good morning or good evening and that's all.

I feel a deadly isolation although I am surrounded with many. It is loneliness that makes me wish that I can meet someone to greet or say good morning to or even smile at sincerely; yet, I don't find that one.

Do you know that if it weren't for my belief in God, I would have been faded away! I know that He is with me, watching over me. From June, the twenty seventh

The time is 8:00 pm now; so, good evening. It is June 27, 1990 AD which corresponds to Dhu 1-Qa'dah 5, 1410 AH. The Adha Holiday is around the corner -- the grand holiday -- So, many happy returns!

June 28,

Dhu l-Qa'dah 6,

India, the land of wonders! Visit it now! These were the airlines' special ads in the newspapers, the magazines and TV as well.

Here I am now, in India, for almost a year or a bit over a year and I have truly discovered that it is the land of wonders.

Everything in Indian is amazing in a sickening way. However, there are few facts that can not be ignored. Truly, the sceneries in this country are breathtaking, in spite of the fact that it is neglected in some areas, it could possibly be the most beautiful tourists attractions; provided that, it receives appropriate care ... but ...

Moreover, I cannot deny that I owe it to this country for allowing me to continue my college education after I have lost all hope to have college education.

However, the system here, the people, and the living; all of these things here make you truly sick to your stomach.

Friendship here is based on personal interests, especially with the foreigners. Although,

an Indian youngman from Mysor, in particular, the city where I'm at right now, perceives

a foreigner, a person from another country, as better class, richer, and cleaner. Yet, if he

has the chance to betray you, he will not hesitate at all.

There are many religions here, and languages are perhaps more.

Every religion has thousands and thousands of sects, and every language has thousand

and thousands of dialects. There are Muslims but no Islam, there are Christians and the

majority are Hindus.

Diverse races that are piled on top of each other; everyone cheats everyone and interests

are the most important thing and above everything.

The stars here are "goddesses." Alcohol and cinema are things that an Indian person

cannot live without; even if he doesn't have food to eat, he has to drink and watch a

movie in the theater; especially the poor class or as they call it "Third Class." And the

favorite sport is Cricket.

The truth is, up till now, I couldn't adjust

properly to this country or to its people. But, it is the fate that I cannot deviate from and

the path it drew for me, yet we seek refuge in God.

(The conversation is missing. There has to be more discussion about India from all

aspect.)

The time is 12:00 pm; so, good night!

Dear Hani,

Did I tell before about how sometimes I feel so stupid? I do not learn quickly from the lessons that life imposes on me. I will continue to be stupid until I can get rid of the extra love which I cherish for all people and the blind trust that I give to all those I love.

Here is a fine story for you: About, perhaps, five months ago, I bought a motorcycle or as we call it "Bike." For some reasons, I -- willingly -- had to register the bike in the name of an Indian friend of mine, Yasir 'Arafat Badr Al-Zaman. His family is my neighbor; nice family, I have good relation with them, his father visits me daily, and we exchange food and sweets. He has an older brother, Tawkhir, he is quiet.

My friendship with Yasir was good; he was the one who taught me how to ride a bike. I always gave him the key to use the bike, whenever he needed it. He used to use it more often, quiet more often than I did. I always did that happily and joyfully.

Five months elapsed and our relationship was fine; but, recently I was obligated to sell the bike for financial reasons. Obviously, I had to get Yasir's signature because the bike is in his name. A little bit before that, there was a minor clash between us over him not committing to schedules and taking advantage of the kind of person I am. So, he believed that the bike is his and not mine and I began asking him for it when I needed it.

Anyhow, a minor clash took place between us when it was time to sell the bike; he sent me a verbal message with another guy stating that I have to pay him 1500 Indian Rupees for his signature. I was shocked by his request and his rudeness.

I tried conferring with him but he declined the meeting. So, I asked to speak to his father since he was my friend as well. When I related the issue to him [the father], I sensed carelessness in his tone and he didn't seem to be surprised, touched or even slightly disapproving of his son's behavior. He promised me to talk to his son and get back to me with his findings.

Today, at eight in the morning, the father, Wajid, and his son, Yasir, came to make me realize how I was misled by both of them; not only the son, rather, BOTH. Yasir denied to his father that he demanded the 1500 Rupees for his signature and the father took his son's side; he had no faith in me and believed his son. Then, the father tried to make it dramatic and told me as he was leaving, "Anyhow, thank you for everything and as of now; we are no longer friends." So, everything ended between us; and end of story. Yet, there is more to it ... What do you think? Do I look stupid?? Yes, I do believe so and here are the reasons:

First, I trusted Yasir and registered the bike in his name simply because; he was a friend

whom I knew only few weeks before I bought the bike.

Second, I didn't understand how his father, Wajid, valued the friendship between his son

and me and the one between him and me. It was nothing but that he wanted a gain from

this Arab guy who came to study in India.

Third, I took the matter lightly; I didn't yell or cause problems because of the son's

attitude; rather, when I was taken aback by the father's attitude; I tried to solve the issue

peacefully and calmly.

This means that I am truly an idiot.

But the story has more to it ...

When I was stunned by the father's attitude; who was an ex-policeman officer, I told him, "You are an ex-policeman, how do you judge that? Just because your son told you, you believed him!" He said, "I am not a policeman now, I am a dad; a father."

Besides, the story did not end right here. When I realized that it is a game between the father and the son, perhaps, over the 1500 Rupees; I helped one of the Indian friends to forge a signature on the papers and I sold it to him without paying them one single Rupee. But after this incident, we stopped being friends; each in his way, we even stopped exchanging greetings.

Finally I tell you, I am not sure whether I should have made a big deal out of it and

exposed them to all the neighbors so I come forward as the one who has the right.

It is a style that I am not good at, however, people like it; so, should I do something I hate?

Also, I want to ask you; do you still look at people through a stupid loving eye? Meaning; are you still stupid Hani2, even though you reached 30 years of age?

PS. The help to forge the signature came from Faruq and his brother 'Adil, do you remember them?

Jul 2,

"A man is the woman's toy and the woman is the devil's toy" -- Victor Hugo --

No comment.

That crazy idea which I have discussed with you before on June 15, do you recall it? Circumstances came between me and carrying it out. That is fine though; perhaps there is good reason for that.

[TN: Drawing below the text].

Jul 10,

Dear Hani,

Greetings!

I'm tired because I have images in my memory that cause my tears to fall the moment I start going through them. Indeed, she had a hard life; I myself have wronged her often.

My father was harsh with her, although he had tendencies to be gentle. He is like that most of the time but ...

I don't think that you will forget what I will write to you, but I like to rest my memory so let me tell you a story and I am certain that you might tear up if you read this letter of mine to you. Also, I will cry now as I am writing it.

The beginning,

I believe that we were a happy family, no problems and my parents never had any

conflicts or perhaps because I was little, seven or eight years only; so I didn't notice

anything.

We traveled on vacation from Saudi Arabia to Jordan then to Palestine, by car. We spent a short period in Palestine then returned to Jordan where my mother's relatives were. My father's sister, aunt Kamilah, was with us this time and she was supposed to go with us to Saudi Arabia to finish

her education.

Anyway, in Jordan, problems between my mother and my aunt Kamilah started and we

returned to Saudi Arabia. After a while, Aunt Kamilah came, I was the one who opened

the door for her. When I saw her, I rushed inside without greeting her; I have hated her ever since the problems she caused in Jordan.

Gradually, change began taking place in our life and suddenly we heard screaming in the guestroom; my mother was screaming for help. My siblings and I, who were all very young, ran to the guestroom to see my mother and aunt Kamilah engaged in fist fight. My mom had aunt Kamilah's hair in her hand and aunt Kamilah had mom's hair in her hand. My mom leaned over the chair and almost fell down and my aunt still holding on to her hair + something else ... My father sided with his sister; he was beating up my mom with a heavy shoe while she was screaming, perhaps out of anger more than it is pain. My father was beating her so she would let go of his sister's hair while his sister was pulling away my mother's hair and pushing her so she would fall on the floor. We were watching what is taking place and screaming softly and fearfully while Mahir, my older brother, is jumping and screaming: NO! NO!

This was the first scene and the curtain went down.

Few months or perhaps years following this incident, I can't recall the time period clearly, the curtain was lifted. I was hiding behind the curtain, the guestroom curtain. This time, my mother was sitting with one of the neighbors whispering together. The neighbor took out a small amount of money and gave to my mother. This scene had a short prelude. My father made my aunt Kamilah in charge of the house expenses and if my mom needed to buy anything, she would have to ask aunt Kamilah, her rivalry, even if it were something for herself. My mom will not ask, of course, but we were little and we don't know any better; we asked for everything. Would she, as a mother, keep silent towards our screaming or would she ask her worst enemy so she would account her for how much she wants, why, and where is the change? Provided that, it is my mother's house and she has the right to that money.

I was behind the curtain, I almost cried but I was little then and I knew that one would cry only if he is beaten by someone else or when he demands something such as candy and the adults do not grant him his request.

But, for a child to cry because his pride is injured, I didn't know the meaning of injured unless there are wounds associated with it; furthermore, I didn't know what pride meant.

Ever since that, we haven't witnessed a happy day; yelling, crying, and weeping. Also, my father had painted on the guestroom wall a picture depicting the Al-Aqsa Mosque, an oil painting that took up the entire wall area and it was truly beautiful. One day my mom and dad who has just came out of the bathroom after a hot bath, they were whispering and laughing. My father went into the guestroom and my mother sat next to him. My aunt Kamilah was studying.

The wall painting of Al-Aqsa Mosque was slightly splashed in black thing as if a coke bottle was shaken then opened to splash over the painting.

My dad looked furiously at the painting and began yelling, who did this. He kept quiet for a moment then he told my mother, "Are you trying to do witch craft in my house?" He meant that my mom

had spelled black magic on him or something like that. A supple discussion took place

between them. As a result, my mother went to the kitchen to wash some dishes and I was

next to her.

I asked her about something, I can't recall what it was; all I recall is that she looked at me,

as I was yapping next to her, with her eyes [cross out word] full of tears.

Perhaps I was ten, and for the first time I see my mother crying like a child as she was

telling me things that I didn't understand; her tears and weeping prevented me from

making sense of what she was saying.

To be a child and see my mother crying, that was so tough for me; I couldn't sustain

myself and I threw myself crying in her arms. However, I felt that she was the one who

threw herself in my arms; she was crying and I was holding her tight, digging my head in

her chest crying and bellowing. Mom! Please don't cry, I beg you; please don't cry mom!

Don't cry mom, don't cry mom, don't cry MOM! PLEASE ... DON'T.

This last image stayed inside of me waking me up, spoiling the good times, and forcing my tears to fall and fall and fall.

I grew up and became a teenager; a sophomore in high school. We traveled once again to Jordan to visit relatives, and there my father had his fantasies. My aunt Kamilah was married then; no more of her but the problems still existed. She left the house to her husband's house and my mother got divorced two times, she had one more episode of that left before she is divorced for good.

Anyway, we traveled without aunt Kamilah. Over there, different problems began surfacing; new kind of problems between my mother and I this time around. I insulted her once, hit her once and pushed her once. Up to this date, I deeply regret that. Even if she smiles at me or asks God to bless me and forgive me, I will never forgive myself.

Now, I don't cry when I remember my dad beating up my mom. As I matured I began perceiving things differently not emotionally or purely childishly. I don't cry when I remember her crying like a child in my arms when I was a child; I don't cry when I remember all these things as much as I cry when I remember that I offended her. I don't say that my mother was not at fault towards me just like my father was; but, she is a mother and I am her son.

Even though her mistakes against me were hurtful; yet, she is still my mother. Now, how I wish for the years to go by quickly so I can finish my study and return to make up for everything that might have hurt her. I ask God to give me the power to do that, and we seek refuge in Him. Oh God!

PS. Although the words cry, I cry and such are mentioned; yet the truth is completely different. I never cried, unfortunately; even if I actually cried, I never let out deep sighs and my face maintained harsh features [IL]. This is not a good quality, rather, it is shameful ... tears are nonsense; but ...

Jul 18,

I have an urge to cry and I don't know why I want to cry for a little bit, yet at the same time I don't want to.

I feel that I am crushed in this world; I am not, of course. Thank God, my life is very normal and better than many that I know; however, in my own opinion, I feel crushed.

My dreams are big, my ambitions are bigger and I am on my way to fulfilling them; God willing. But, I'm not sure if I will walk the walk or if I will be crushed half way there. My urge to cry is not stemming from being afraid of the unknown or the future. Even though I am fearful of them but something, I am not sure yet what it is, every now and then makes my tears almost fall in the midst of happy moments; as if the tears are trying to prevent me from laughing. Is it a weary conscience? But why is that? I haven't committed anything that makes me feel remorseful. I don't know, and oh my world! Is it the sins?

The time is 8:00 pm.

I am definitely going to end up with a heart attack; life is contradicting me, I'm even thinking about committing suicide.

I have tried once, rather, I have actually decided to quit my study in India -- I haven't been in it for a long period of time -- after I gave up on life, its problems and its contentiousness towards me. I decided to travel to [IL] or I have convinced myself so; but the truth is that it was [TN: the following sentence is crossed out in the document; however, it is legible and it reads]: "For death reason, it was not for martyrdom." Also, I tried to convince myself and everyone around me, but ... The truth is [TN: the following words are crossed out in the document; however, they are legible and read]: "it was "for death." [TN: The rest is illegible].

Don't misunderstand me, no one can mess with me, nothing tangible or intangible can change the problem mentally. I am not happy or satisfied with myself or the foul societies; everything is against me and wearing me out.

I am tired, tired, tired. I tell it to you thousand times and I shout it out at the top of my lungs through my voice, the one that cannot be heard on paper; I am tired, tired, and Ah!

Aug 1,

Happiness! I am making every effort searching for happiness. I am looking for it inside of me, in my head and in every dark corner of my memory. I try to find a slight light, yet, I don't.

Is it circumstances or the moment? I'm not sure which is responsible for my lost

happiness! Or will I even find it, if circumstances change or the moment I'm living in

smiles at me?

Is it the place or the time or the time/place, according to "Einstein?" I'm not sure. I miss

happiness just as I miss oxygen in a glass box void of oxygen filled air.

Where do I find happiness and when? Is it a substance?

I don't think so, although the substance is a path or at least the way to get there. But also,

it might not be that.

I am craving a true laugh coming from my heart, a pure one that cleans its [the heart's] rust, washes away its sorrows and removes the spider web

off its corners, opens its valves to a pure breeze; fresh breeze sends signs of life to it and revives the still skeleton covered by muscle and skin inside of it, pumps blood so it bestow life upon it; thus it will become like a living being.

Perhaps happiness is illusion. Many have chased the essence looking for happiness, yet, I don't believe that anyone found it there; among the piles of gold. As an Arab national; especially as a Palestinian, I'm forced to adore sadness and sometimes I sense mental happiness hidden in the folds of my sorrows.

As they say, "Perhaps the crises exist where there is gratitude." Or the opposite as well, maybe happiness lies in the utmost sorrow and pain. More over, they say that creativeness is the product of pain.

Creativity is a level of a refined sensibility that is closer to happiness than to sadness. Thus, perhaps my sorrows are nothing but loud cries emerging out of me in the form of tears and painful sighs. Oh my world ... I am still waiting for this happiness.

Aug 30,

Hi, hello Hani, he!!o!

Sorry my dear Hani, I have not been in contact with you for some time; but, today I feel that I want to talk to you.

I feel as if I am in a boat at the see shore, however, the shore is departing the boat. The shore is departing and not the boat. The boat is not departing, it is not moving, yet the shore is departing and so is everything else; the people are getting smaller, the buildings, the beach cabins, and the anchored boats. Everything is moving away and growing smaller and smaller until it disappears and nothing remains but the water and the high tides.

I am truly tired.

I try hard not to smoke. I have cut down on the number of cigarettes I smoke to two or three at max, daily. However, I am incapable of quitting altogether. Whenever I decide to do something, something else comes between me and what I intend to do; thus I become desperate to the point where I will explode. Then I recall my strength

to set up phony hopes that I sweet- talk myself with ... and nothing but waiting; either I fulfill my desire or ... I explode.

It is 8:00 pm and I am studying a poem by Shakespeare: "LET ME NOT TO THE MARRIAGE OF THE TRUE MINDS. " And all I need is some bugs to mess around with me as well as something more annoying than bugs; that is the memories and the hopes that become visible to me and prevent me form neither comprehending nor being able to read.

If you still recall these dreams that occurred to you when you were me now, I will ask you, rather, I will tell you something: If you have not realized yet, I mean when you get to be 30 years old, I suggest that you throw yourself off the highest building in the town where you live as soon as you read these memoirs ... goodbye.

Oct 6,

Rabi' Al-Awwal 17,

My Only Friend Hani,

I feel lost, I'm not sure why, I have not reach emotional stability yet. In the past -- when I was waiting to start college education -- I used to believe that as soon as I start my college life, I will feel settled; yet, up till now, nothing like that.

I am lost, erratic, completely distracted and unsettled. I don't know for sure what I want and what I'm missing. Undoubtedly, I have dreams that I aspire; but, are they the answer or should I realize one dream until another dream comes to life and I chase after it to accomplish it and once I'm doe, a third one will come around and so on and so forth.

Also, I don't know why I adore sadness! I sometimes like to lock myself up in the darkness of my room and sit alone chasing the sorrows and the painful memories so they snap at me. However, I am not a Munchausen; that is someone who loves pain and inflicts it upon himself.

Do you know that I don't feel at ease with you although we are one person "Hani," but in two different time frames

and perhaps two different worlds also?.

I say, my memories are sometime like a nightmare; rather, they are always a series of nightmares that cram and emulate my brain until they are about to explode it. Not one beautiful memory that is not muddled by a bad one connected to it.

Sometimes you find me laughing and joking and you would believe that I was born to laugh, purely. The truth of the matter is that my laugh and my jokes are nothing but an attempt to escape my reality and it is obvious sometimes; like when I laugh hysterically over a silly joke. My laugh astonishes everyone and I am the one who is perceived silly, not the joke and not the one who said it.

Sometimes I feel that I'm an atheist, rather, it is the truth; I am truly an atheist! I don't believe in anything except in God, of course, my trust in God cannot be doubted at all. The percentage in which I believe in anything doesn't exceed 50%, but my belief in God, His angels, His books, His messengers, doom day, and destiny in its good and evil exceeds 100%. Praise be to God.

I don't know if I had talked to you about that before.

Anyhow, you are here to bear with me whether I have told you before or not. You are here to hear or read what I say to you. Yet, if you don't like that my dear Hani2, and you get sick of me and my complaints to you; all you have to do is throw out this memoirs in the nearest garbage can, and bye ...

[Signed] Hani

[Crossed out words below the signature].

Oct 18,

It is 12:30 am; Friday is over and it is Saturday now. Chris De Burg sings softly for me; however, I am sleepy. Although I want to sleep at any cost, I am thinking about the future.

The nightmare of fear and the future is killing me. I am afraid of failure, not that I don't have confidence or such; perhaps it is being uncertain of the capabilities. I don't believe so ...

Fear and all of the fear is because of the circumstances, I neither trust life nor the circumstances. Up till now, I am walking on shaky ground that is all muddy; any move that is not well calculated might cause me to fall on my head.

I am waiting for the moment where I feel that I am walking on a solid concrete ground, confidently and fearless. The hell with "Chris De Burg" in spite of his soft and beautiful songs, yet they bring sadness and anxiety to the soul anxiety and sadness (beautiful anxiety but it is anxiety).

Oct 29,

Dear Hani2,

Yesterday, a police officer charged us as well as a sergeant who works under him, at the house where I live in Mysor, India. As a foreign student, I had with me "Muhammad" my friend from Yemen and a guest of mine for four months: Muhammad Al-Jilani, a fine young man. Do you remember him?

The police came responding to a complaint by one of the neighbors who is a silly Hindu young man. The charge was "disturbance" and that we bring call girls who dance with us naked, and that all the neighbors are not happy about us being here." Another stupid neighbor had joined in with him on the complaint; that is Yasir's father; he is still resentful over the bike thing.

The people gathered in front of the house while the officer was talking roughly to us about the complaint and everyone is looking surprised and puzzled. After the officer left, he called us to the police station, and all the neighbors assured us that they know nothing about the issue and that they are not disturbed by our presence and that the stupid Hindu neighbor and Yasir's father are the only ones

who filed the complaint and tried to collect the neighbors' votes, but no one agreed. So the witnesses were from another area. They were paid few Rupees, perhaps.

Yet, the police came, the people gathered, and it was humiliating. Yasir's family was watching from their house; they seemed smiling. The father was inside watching

through the window, he did not dare to come out. The rest of the family walked up to the fence whispering happily and the stupid young man's wife was watching from her house.

The matter was wrapped up with the officer leaving; provided that, we have to go to the station. However, that is not the end of the story. The desire to take revenge began building up inside of me and that I will not be satisfied until I do act upon my desire. Just as hatred blinded them and made them make up accusations that are not true, it is the same ill will that will make me take revenge the best way. Yet, that is the right thing.

[Signed] Hain1

[Crossed out words below the signature].

Nov 3,

Rabi' Al-Thani 16,

Revenge is an ugly feeling; rather, it is the ugliest feeling that can poison a human being's mind and heart. It flows through his body and contaminates his blood. I am heading towards that feeling now; my blood is boiling out of hatred towards the one who wronged and humiliated me.

Today, perhaps at 11:00 am, we were escorted by an idiot sergeant to the police station; my maid Flumina and I. She was included in the complaint as well. At the police station, Nizarabad Police Station, as they call it, I felt disgusted; the station is filthy.

First, they brought a drunken man into the station and threw him on the floor. He was screaming and cursing. Stone like hands were beating him and blood came gushing out of his head. He was hit with a thick stick until he lost conscious.

Indeed, they are animals! The police here are nothing but beasts who assault people with no respect to humanity.

Second, we stood before the officer in charge of our case; the same one. His name was

Ravnish, he looks like a thief and he is disrespectful.

Before we attempted to speak, the friends who were with me and me, he ran his dirty

mouth calling us names that affected everyone in my family.

The son of a bitch, idiot, "motherfucker," "sun of bitch" and "Bloody fool;" the spelling

might not be correct but I believe that you know what I mean.

Anyway, I and everyone with me were humiliated and disgraced, yet Yasir's father and

those with him felt ravishment.

A lengthy discussion went on with the officer who was extremely unfair to us without

having evidence to the credibility of the charges against us. However, the way he was

talking sounded like he was asking for a bribe. Sure enough, that day in the evening and

after I have signed a promise, I asked for help and there comes the respectful officer; the honest and angry one because of immorality, he asked for 1200 Rupees to withdraw the case and the promise [I signed]. So, I paid him and he kept quiet. Yet, every bit of me

shouted out loud demanding revenge!

The problems did not stop. These two neighbors continued to bother me and the officer hasn't yet fulfilled his promise to stand by my side.

Anyway, I say, "Patient Yasir's kin! Your date is in hell!"

That last sentence is originally from a saying by the prophet, God's prayer and peace

upon him, when he saw the suffering of Yasir's kin, may God be pleased with the, he told

them. "Patience, patience o Yasir's kin, your date is in heaven."

But Yasir's kin here are different people; my date with them is in hell.

It is coincident that his name is "Yasir ('Arafat) Badr Al-Zaman" and his father's name is

"Wajid." Originally, I hate the name Yasir 'Arafat because I hate the original holder of

the name.

Nov 21,

Two days ago, I left the house I was living in; I got sick of problems. Also, I received a police order to evacuate the house. Yasir's father had contacted a senior police official, in his capacity as a retired officer; he talked to him about the problem as he views it. Without any investigation or proof, orders to evacuate the house were issued against those reckless foreign students; because they don't respect the deep-rooted Indian traditions or the Indian families living next to them.

So be it. I left the house and I could see the sadness clearly on the faces of the other neighbors. I had good relations with them and they all liked me there; but, no one asked them to testify so they can testify to my advantage, everything happened as they were surprised.

Anyway, I lived in a different area, a simple house, no electricity and no water; fulfilling the wish of an Indian friend of mine "Faruq" that I live next to him temporarily until I find a better house, for about less than a month. Tentatively, the house is fine; I have a room for me, a kitchen, and a small living room. It is a detached house somehow, except the bathroom is shared between me,

Faruq, and his family -- my neighbors -- their house is attached to mine; meaning, the same building.

As I told you, I am here temporarily and perhaps I will stay until I finish my study in Mysor; I liked the place.

This is an opportunity to tell you about Faruq and his family. He is an Indian man, perhaps in his thirties; he worked in Saudi Arabia for seven years then he returned to India with very little money he wasted it on his siblings weddings, his relatives, and some unsuccessful projects. Now and for three years he has been jobless. He is married to beautiful wife, Shamim, and he has three cute daughters, the eldest is four years old; Hanan, Saniyyah and Amrin. He speaks Arabic fluently and always says that he came back from Saudi Arabia with nothing but a wealth of the Arabic language. His mother is a simple woman, I don't understand her language; she speaks Urdu and few Indian languages.

I only speak Arabic and English; besides, my English language is not that great.

Anyway, this day marks two full days for me here and truly I cannot see. Although, there is no electricity here; which means no fan, no recorder, no light, going to bed early, no staying up, no nighttime reading, no music, and I cannot even listen to recitation of Qur'an.

Also because water is scarce, except for a number of pitchers that are filled daily for drinking and washing, this also means; nothing cold daily, no standing under the shower for a full hour while singing, "Qad mat shahidan ya waladi, man mat fida' lil mahbub and no ini aghraq, aghraq that al maa'." [TN: This is a transliteration of the lyrics for a famous romantic Arabic song].

In spite of all that, I feel happy in this place.

PS. My friend Muhammad Al-Jilani offered me to live with him; he found a good house, but I refused and preferred this simple place.So, perhaps I find rest here. Oh God!

Nov 24,

Beside me, the heart throbbed as a slaughtered animal

And I say, O heart, persevere yourself.

But alas! The tears and wounded bygones reply

When we returned, I wish we never did

When we returned, didn't we forget about infatuation

And poured out the yearning and the pain

And headed toward peace and tranquility ... And ended in the emptiness of non-existence

Poem by, Ibrahim Naji

I don't know why I wanted to write you these verses; although, I am not certain that I have committed it to memory. Anyhow, I apologize to Ibrahim Naji if I made an erred in reciting his poem. Bye ...

DEC-31, 1990 AD.

Jumad Al-Thani 14, 1411 AH.

Tomorrow is the first day of the New Year 1991 AD. Happy New Year to you! 1990 AD went by so fast, I didn't feel it; it started yesterday and will end tomorrow. Nothing new in my life and I have not yet accomplished one of the things I am striving after. My projects were huge during this year but I didn't execute them. I haven't taken one step up the ladder of my own life, not even up the ladder of life in general.

Furthermore, I have not aged one year; I have grown a thousand years younger. The circumstances are to blame, although; one who is incapable blames everything on the circumstances. Just as the proverb goes, "a sloppy worker blames his tools." "A bad workman blames his tools. "

Also, there is no one that can do it better than the achiever; he justifies his success and brags about his hard and diligent work.

Additionally, no one can do it better than the looser; he justifies his failure and blames it on luck and circumstances.

Yet, I failed in an extremely embarrassing way trying to accomplish any of the goals I have set for myself during 1990AD. But, that is the truth and the circumstances alone are the reason; they made me incapable of taking a stepping one step stepping

forward. But, on the contrary, I have taken few steps backwards and still going in that regress mode not knowing where to and until when! [cross out word].

However, here is a detailed explanation as to how I assess my situation up till now;

My psychological situation/

I mean by that; how I evaluate myself or how I describe myself. From a strictly

psychological standpoint, I am 60% ok.

I am generally optimistic; although, pessimism has a place in my heart. I am sociable by

nature; although, sometimes I love misery and loneliness. I am not too serious and

sometimes I am too funny. Also, I try to get rid of some psychological complexes that

have to do with childhood remnants, age complex, society and upbringing. One more

thing, I am not inferiority complexes free; but, I understand them pretty well, put up with them, and accordingly get rid of them because they are imaginary.

My psychological state/

Perhaps 40% ok, I am not settled; therefore, psychologically, I am not stable. Sometimes

I feel utmost happiness, or at least so I convince myself, and sometimes I feel utmost

misery or I give such impression.

My financial state:

Perhaps [crossed out word] 40% ok; the financial situation is not stable, as well. Also,

money is between me and other things.

Socially:

Perhaps [crossed out word] 50% ok; I don't believe that, rather, I hope that no one finds

me boring. My relations with people are superficial, most of the time transparent, and

they are rarely meaningful. However, if I dig into them deeper, I discover their

transparency.

Sexually:

I do not have sex for religious reasons, although, thank God, I am confident of my

manhood. No particular relations with the other sex except for touching, hugs, and hot

kisses. But I am afraid of going forward for the fear of God

Religiously:

Perhaps 30% ok; up till now, I have not sensed that I have attained

[TN: The following note appears at the top of this page, in English]: "NUMBER SKIP IS

OK"

[TN: Perhaps the previous not is referring to the fact that the next page is not in the

sequential order; it skips few pages in order].

God's approval of me, I am still trying; however, the devil is much smarter. Just a week

ago I began waking up to perform the dawn prayer in time. However, I stopped the Al-

Witr Prayer [TN: None compulsory prayer/ an extra prayer with no definite number of

Rokaa's]

It seems as when one cup gets full, in my life, another one becomes empty, and "God

damn this life!" But I never miss a prayer or a fasting season, regardless; and praise be to

God, only.

Physically:

I weigh between 75 and 80 kg. My belly is tiny and it is beginning to bulge. I am healthy,

thank God; however, I look pale and I'm still trying to quit smoking but I cannot do it.

As you can see, this is my situation since I arrived in India or since I realized that I became a young man. Everything is the same; nothing had changed at all. Tomorrow is

a new year in the Georgian Calendar; I will start a new page and ask God to bless it, Oh God!

PS. I forgot to mention my educational status. It is; computer is the most important thing I know, thank God. For me, it is very easy; thus, my educational status is perhaps 60% ok.

Jan 6, 1991 AD,

Jumda al-Thani 20, 1411 AH

[TN: A note at the top of the page reads: "There has to be an explanation as to why and what is the objective."]

Yesterday, and only yesterday I decided to go to Afghanistan. I believe that I have talked to you about a plan to go to Afghanistan before, which was unsuccessful. [TN: The following sentence is crossed out; however it is legible and reads]: "Because the objective was not developed or pure."

However, this time it is different. [TN: The rest of the sentence is crossed out and illegible]. I have decided to visit the place, receive training and come back to conclude my education. The intent is bona fide, God willing. Almost everything is ready except that I am scared of the circumstances. Yet I trust in God, and we seek refuge in Him.

PS. It is my friend Amin's idea, and he will accompany me in the trip, God willing. [TN: Amin's full name appears here; however, it is crossed out and his last name is illegible]. Do you remember him my dear Hani?

Jan 9,

Dear Hani, [crossed out word].

Here is a short story, yet, before I tell it to you, I will introduce you to its personalities. I believe that I have talked to you about them; but I'm going to remind you of them one more time because the story calls for that.

Faruq: A good Indian friend; I am his neighbor now in same building which houses only

our two homes.

Sahmim: His wife; beautiful, noticeably skinny, tall, white (her white skin is an important

thing to Faruq, as he had told me), she doesn't talk much, always smiling and is about 27

years old. She is the mother of three little girls.

Flumina: My maid since last year; she is 33 years old, short, black, petite, a mother of

three children, a widow, Christian, cheerful, she serves me loyally and faithfully for

twenty four hours, she sleeps at the same house with me so she can wake me up to

perform the dawn prayer and prepare breakfast for me.

And ... no one else remember.

The story began when I moved to live next to Faruq and his family. I have met Faruq six months earlier during which we became close until I moved to live next to him; I became his neighbor.

In the past before I left my first house and after "the problem" and before he even came to the current house, I used to visit him at his old house and I met his brothers, his mother and his wife. I truly loved his children as if they were mine, indeed. Let's say that they are too young for me.

Anyway, when I moved to live next to them, Faruq brought me into his family as one of them; we used to eat together and stay up together. It went like that for about a month until Faruq suddenly decided to go to Bangalore; which is three hours away from Mysor, by bus.

The decision was sudden and without introductions; also, Faruq seemed jumpy and upset. He decided not to return to Mysor with his family. Also, he had promised me in the past to stay with me in Mysor; to be my neighbor until I leave it. That is because; I preferred being his neighbor over going to live in another house that is decent for me, as he puts it. Anyway, I tried to figure out the reason for this decision; yet, because of his anger

he told me that is a matter of a conflict between him and his relatives. I tried to better understand the issue but he evaded it. I had a feeling that it has something to do with me and when I spoke out frankly about my feelings, he said no more than he promises to let me know just few hours before his departure.

And why is that? He responded with a sad smile. Well, I will wait; but, few hours before his travel, I was not feeling well and he bid me farewell and left. He took his entire family with him and left his furniture, provided that; he will return after a short while and pick it up, and then he will tell me.

After a whole week, he returned to pick up the furniture. This time, I told him seriously; now, I have to know the story from the very beginning.

Forgive me for I will interrupt the story to start another point that is somehow connected to it. I will return to the story after that.

The second story is about Flumina, my maid; my faithful maid, the one whom I cannot adapt myself without. She is good at what she does and I was not harsh on her.

On the contrary, she always told me her problems and her children's problems. I used to

tease her and make fun of her.

I will tell you the story without beating around the bush:

Flumina was demanding sex from me, meaning; sleeping with her. I used to take the matter jokingly because; I was the one who taught her not be timid and to be impudent. Our relationship was limited to hugging and kissing; however, sex was on hold for me; I don't resort to it in spite of my dire need for it and not to mention the many temptations I am subjected to.

Additionally, I have decided long time ago not to have sex except in the rightful manner and that is strictly for religious reasons.

Anyway, she was certain that I will not sleep with her for religious reasons but she did not stop her temptations and demands; rather, what she believes to be appealing to me. Flumina is not the type of woman who men find sexy, at all. She is petit and her body has no feminine curves. But she is a woman and women are temptation, per say. I am a young man and sex is being defiant inside of me. In spite of that, nothing that is worth mentioning happened between us except for forbidden kisses or big hugs or her sharing my bed with me until I run away scared of the forbidden to happen; for fear of God.

Furthermore, when I moved next to Faruq and his family; the crazy maid began having suspicious thoughts about my relation with Shamim, Fruq's wife, a full sexual relationship.

One day, Faruq was on a business trip or a visit outside Mysor, I'm not sure what it was. Flumina went to visit her mother and came back few hours later. I had taken a cold shower then and coincidently; Shamim had taken a shower as well, either before me or after me. The bathroom is common between us. Flumina came back and noticed that both of us had taken a shower almost at the same time; that made her suspicion grow. So, she began blaming me jokingly and said, "How do you make love to her and not to me?" At the beginning, she was hinting to an affair with a woman outside and I used to make fun of her and tease her. Yet finally, she explained that Shamim is the one she was referring to. At that point, I became furious and I hit her, rather; I slapped her and remained angry with her the entire day. At night, when the issue was visited one more time, I almost kicked her out of the house but things calmed down and nothing happened.

Finally, she apologized; however, she is a woman and suspicion and jealousy are virtuous seeds that grow inside the woman without being cared for, so how about when these seeds are given water and proper care!

She continued being suspicious as she was hinting from time to time and I continued ignoring her in an attempt to avoid problems. I can also understand her feelings as a woman and I think that she is dull.

Her doubts didn't go away until one day; she brought up the subject, she was talking furiously not realizing that she is the maid. Yet, she knew how much I liked her as a faithful maid and I couldn't do the house matters without her; she is the one who does everything and thus, she was talking with confidence and no fear. "If you are having sex

with women outside, why don't you have sex with me; is it only forbidden when it comes to me?"

I am smoking my cigarette calmly, yet her freshness is shocking me. Nonetheless, she tried to be calm somehow so I don't get upset with her. She began, and I promised her not to get mad at her, she began proofing to me with evidence that I have had sex with Shamim, Faruq's wife; my dear friend's wife.

That day, I didn't get mad at her. I took her to my room and held the holy Qur'an in my hand and told her, "This is our holy book as Muslims; that is first, and second: I don't care about you and your stupid ideas and the suspicions that occur to you. So, think whichever way you please; however, don't slander the honor of a respectful woman and a wife of my friend. This is our holy book and I will swear to God that nothing happened between us."

Sure enough, I swore to her that nothing ever happened between me and Mrs. Shamim; the idea doesn't, even, cross my mind.

She was startled by the situation! I'm not sure how but as soon as I took the Holy Qur'an in my hand, she seemed frightened. When I swore, she began sobbing and screaming as she was apologizing [cross. This woman has a belief; she is a crusader -- Christian -- she knows what Holy Bible means, and ever since that day, she never talked about Mrs. Shamim in a bad manner; although she expects me to have girlfriends that I make love to. This concludes the second story.

Now, I will go back to the first story,

I told you that after a week, Faruq came back to transfer the furniture to his house in Bangalore. I told him seriously this time, "Now you have to tell me about what happened between you and your relatives. The thing that had to do with me and forced you to leave with your family to Bangalore; it seemed as if you were running away.

Once again he tried to evade the issue, but finally, he told me the story; which was told to him by one of his friends who was sitting among Faruq's relatives. They were talking about Faruq and when the latter found out, he confronted one of his relatives who couldn't answer. At that point, Faruq gave it to him quietly and left; not only he left the gathering, but, he left Mysor altogether.

The story is that one of Faruq's relatives said, "I don't know how Faruq can manage to provide for his family when he is not working? How does he support his family when he is not the bread winner? Also, he always has money."

Another one said in philosophical tone of voice, "He has an Arab young man living next to him, meaning I,--

The word Arab in India and many places means fortune and the one who owns it is only looking for sex and leisure.

Faruq's friend who was sitting with them said, "What do you mean he has an Arab young man?" The relative replied, "He has an Arab young man and his wife is beautiful."

Only here, as Faruq uttered his last sentence, I felt as if someone had slapped me on the face.

He had stopped for a second before he said it ... "I can't tell you." He said that smiling and embarrassed of me and himself. I insisted; so, he says it and I was certain 100% that he would say it.

"He has an Arab young man at home and his wife is beautiful." I was speechless; I was quiet for a moment and so he was. He was smoking his cigarette voraciously and I was doing the same. I couldn't look him in the eye so I wouldn't make him uncomfortable. A teardrop almost ran down my face, but the important thing is that; her husband, "Faruq," trusted her, his wife, and he trusted me, as well, and praise be God for that.

Moreover, when his wife, Mrs. Shamim, found out; she insisted to her husband that I

don't know about the issue until they leave Mysor.

Indeed, it was and here I am finding out right now; by God I am as innocent as could be

and so is she.

All dependence is on God; Who is the best Guardian!

Oh my world!

Hani1.

{TN: The bottom of the page has a drawing}.

JAN 12,

Today is Sunday, It is 11:00 am and today is the day to leave Mysor to Afghanistan; I have a long way but I seek refuge in God.

I have arranged everything and I will be leaving to Bangalore in two hours, by bus. After that I will be heading to Delhi; two full days by train, then to Okara at the Pakistani-Indian border, then to Lahore/ Pakistan , then to Peshawar and from there to Afghanistan, God willing.

My companion in the trip is Amin.

The time is going slowly and I am waiting for it to be one o'clock so I can perform the noon and afternoon prayer [TN: The word afternoon is crossed out yet is legible; however, the sentence following this is crossed out and illegible] the bus stop ...

I am writing my memoirs and Flumina, the maid, is cleaning the room very well; I might miss teasing her. Yesterday she was she was crying because of the farewell and I was trying to joke and be funny about it. It is exactly 11:10 now, and Oh God.

JAN tt,

*The time is 6:00 pm at the train station. A friend made the reservation for us and we are asking around trying to find where to go and each employee sends us in a direction ... And up till now ...

* The time now is 6:05.I am inside the train now; I am still not certain that the seat is mine. I feel disgusted and still not sure if I can take up the seat to sleep on it or stay up the entire trip from Bangalore to Delhi, approximately 42 hours. My companion in the trip is taking a seat in a car further away from me and he is trying hard to switch seats.

PS. May be because I feel disgusted of the trains here I feel like I need to cuss, curse and scream. But I can't because people are competing with me over my seat and you will notice that I will write to you, even at the moment when I feel the need to curse and yell; I will write to you and cuss and curse on paper.

*It is now 8:00

The train moved and I'm still not sure if the seat will be mine to sit and sleep on. The other person who is competing with me over the seat is sitting close by smiling; he is in the same cabin with me, that is if the name cabin applies here. With me also is a nice Indian-Hindu person who has a smiley face. Another person is a Muslim with a beard and soothing features, he has a young man with him who is a Muslim as well. Also, there is an oily looking man with a maid; additionally, there is a European man with a yellow girl. I mean she is Asian. Then, there is an Indian guy wearing glasses, quiet and seems to be educated. The train is moving slowly and stops every now and then. I am feeling disgusted already; yet, I will definitely like the place with time.

*  It is 8:30.

The conductor finally showed up and I was able to change the ticket for a little bit more money and have the seat ok for sitting and sleeping. The other person was sent to another seat. We got to know our friends in the cabin and we talked until it was time to sleep. Have a good night.

Jan 14,

It is our second day in the train.

* It is 8:30 now. The train is still moving slowly and I am smoking avidly. I have reduced the number of cigarettes to one or two daily in a desperate attempt to quit; yet it is useless. I have gone through a whole pack since yesterday; ten cigarettes and more to come.

The time is passing slowly also. The European man's wife is a Filipino and her husband is from Sweden; he is an atheist and doesn't believe in a God or a religion. Anyway, she is giving me strange looks and smiles; I am pretending to be careless. Perhaps I am just assuming.

* It is 9:30 pm. almost everyone in the cabin is sleeping. The weather is becoming colder as we head further north; everyone is shivering. Yet, I love the cold weather, I enjoy the chilly breeze when it touches my face and freezes it where I cannot move it. One moment, the atheist's wife is awake and she is steeling looks at me!

Jan 10,

* The time is 10:10.

We are about to arrive in Delhi. By the way, today is the last chance given by the UN Security Council to Iraq and its leader, Saddam Hussein, to withdraw from Kuwait. So far, there is no news. I am worried about the family in Saudi Arabia if there should be war; God is the guardian.

* The time is 12:30.

We arrived in Delhi. We are at the Pakistani embassy right now trying to get a visa to enter Pakistan. We arrived late and we are trying to talk to the employee from the outside, but his reception reception was not welcoming and so is his face. No problem; we will come back tomorrow, God willing.

Jan 16,

It is 9:30 pm.

Today is Tuesday and we are, Amin and I, are in the train to Okara and then to Pakistan,

God willing, then to Lahore and later on Peshawar.

The train is really filthy and a foul smell fills the place. I have in the same cabin with me:

three nice Pakistanis; next to them three Muslim African men with their wives covered in

black from head to toe; a Pakistani family; and two beautiful girls.

Do you know that sometimes I feel that I am a devil?

Now, I'm on my way to train in jihad for Allah's cause; yet, I am still looking at this one,

and that one arouses me and, and, and ...

I am trying to have a bona fide intention but, oh my God. I have to abide by what pleases

God in all aspects of my life.

[Signed]

Hani1

* The time is 3:00 pm now.

Now, we are in the train that will take us to Pakistan. We have completed all the procedures in Okara, the Pakistani-Indian border; all we have left is for the train to get moving.

* It is exactly 3:00 pm Pakistan time. The time here is half an hour behind India time. Although we haven't observed the time difference except when we were in Okara; however, we changed our watches to reflect the time in Pakistan.

Within few minutes we concluded additional procedures inside the Pakistani land, during which a Pakistani employee delivered to us news that shocked us; the war had erupted in the Gulf Region. The Iraqi forces on one side and the American forces and their allies on the other side. We were worried of what we heard. We were wondering what might have happened to our families; mine in Saudi Arabia and Amin's in occupied Kuwait. My friend Amin walked away as soon as he heard the news and took a comer where he sat not believing what he was hearing.

While I remained listening to the rest of the news in details as the officer was telling it with fervor and enthusiasm.

* The time is 11:30 pm.

We are on our way to Peshawar. We have stopped in Lahore by few friends, specifically at, the "Muslim Students Union" in Pakistan then we left to Peshawar.

It is very cold and we each are layered by four or five pieces of clothing and oh God!

[TN: The bottom of this page has scribbles and a signature that reads "Abu Zubayda." Next to the signature there is another signature that is done by a different pen and reads "Hani" and next to it is Abu-Zubaydah. Also to the left from the crossed out, there is writing that reads, "Sorry o [IL]"].

Jan 19,

The time now is 10:30.

We arrived yesterday morning; we are in Peshawar now at the "House of Martyrs." The

system here, as I have learned later on, is as follows:

First: the services office; it is an office that handles jihad matters and Arab Mujahideen's

organization as well as support to both Arab and Afghani Mujahideen. From that office

branches many houses for the incoming mujahideen from outside Afghanistan, Arabs and

others. These houses are: Al-Fatiheen [The Conquerors], Al-Shuhadaa' [The Martyrs],

and Al-Ansar [The Supporters] where all the Saudis, Yemenis, Algerians and Palestinians

are. It is for distribution of the organization and not for any other purposes such as;

discrimination or nationalism. God willing it will be.

I was destined to stay at the "House of Martyrs" for the mujahideen from the Great Syria

and there are few also who are not from there.

The spiritual atmosphere here is good; youth and elderly have given their souls to

Almighty God, they traded off life and everything in it for jihad.

Some came to train for a short period and go back just to be prepared, others are here for

jihad and until God decides for something to be done.

Some are young; their beards or mustache have not appeared yet. Others are old in their

fifties or more.

And all are looking, God willing, at God.

Also, the idea of settling here is enticing me and I cannot seem to control it.

The time now is 7:30 pm. Do you know that the Afghani people are good people? It

seems that I see that through some of the Afghani brothers who work here at the house. In

spite of the presence of some hypocrites and Shiite here; yet, God is with his faithful

worshipers.

[TN: The bottom of this page has writing that has been crossed out and is illegible].

Jan 20, Rajab 5,

Dear Hani; the 30 year old Hani, provided that you are destined to live this long or for I to live and give you a pleasant greeting from yourself Hani 1; of course, this is me now.

Then,

No doubt that you have witnessed that I began to write down the time when I write any

memory.

Perhaps that is when I made the decision to come here to Pakistan and then to

Afghanistan; possibly because every moment represent a memory for me.

Anyway, all I wanted to tell you today is that my determination to settle here goes on and

off. I get excited for moments during which I am emotional and romantic to the max, and

soon enough I cancel the idea.

In my mind, I cannot seem to find stability at all. Initially, I am here for a short period then I return to where I came from; Mysor, India. There, I will decide whether I want to

continue with my education and get a bachelor, masters or even doctorate; or at least this is what I am planning. Or else, I will sell my belongings, give things back their owners and return to the land of jihad.

[TN: The top of the page has the words "As they say"].

The situation right now is; a war in the Gulf Region, perhaps signs of a third world war around the corner. There seems to be no future and even if there is one; nothing is better than jihad for Almighty Allah's cause.

However, the guys here, especially the mujahideen among them and not those who are like me that came here to train and go back, are in a perplexing situation. I am not talking about the wounded among them; there are those whose leg is amputated and those who are handicapped because of mines. All of those things do not drive them away from the will to involve in jihad, God willing, except that I am actually scared. Not of a bullet or a shell, rather of the future itself. If I decide to settle here, it means that I will cancel my education and there is no harm in that, God willing; jihad is a good thing and I will stay. But, I am scared that I'll be left high and dry in the future, God forbid. At that point, I will have no contingent plan to resort to, a degree or a job to lean on. I mean a college degree, of course. I desire becoming a martyr and God knows that I love that, because of all of its rewards and forgiveness of all sins. Yet, if I don't become a martyr, no one will lead me to the bathroom, for example. Here, I mean martyrdom for Allah's cause; that is, to be a martyr.

If I become handicapped such as; my leg will be amputated, God forbid, or any other type of retardation. Also, what would I do if the party is over and there is no more jihad in Afghanistan! Where would I go when I have no job and no college degree? Oh what a life!

I come back and say that if I decide to stay here, it would be for Allah's cause and God will do His will; whatever God allows for, it will happen. But, have I decided? No, not yet; I am still hesitant, maybe I am thinking. And [IL]

Jan 26,

Yesterday, and only yesterday, the guys moved. We left Peshawar about approximately at 7:30 in the morning. In the beginning, the trip was normal. We were five guys from Palestine. They are my group, that is; the first group I begin to train with. In addition to my friend Amin, there is also; Abu-Awwab from Jordan, Abu-'Azzam; he finished his

masters in Assisted Medical Science from the United States and Abu-'Ubaydah Al-Bakri Al-Muhajir; he finished Electronic Engineering study from the United States as well.

There was another group consisting of five brothers from Somalia then we were joined by six from the Comoros Islands. Excuse me, the Somalis were six individuals.

We all left from Peshawar to Khaldan Camp and that is its name; from one city to another until we arrived inside Afghanistan. Of course, there are no delineated borders between the two countries, Pakistan and Afghanistan.

The weather was very cold to the extent that we were not able to move our fingers, especially when we were in the trunk of a transport truck in the midst of a mountain road that is unpaved and very bumpy.

We have settled, after going from one car to another, in a new built camp that is considered the backline for one of the military fighting fronts; it was called Bari [sic] Camp. Its emir is Abu-Turkiyyah; a Libyan man, he is very nice and personally like him a lot ever since I met him and up to this date.

The camp consists of caves and caverns inside the mountains. The mujahideen dug them to be training centers.

Today, the time is seven exactly. The sun is hardly up and the coldness is freezing everything. There is light fog, thick clouds, on and off rain and my skin is breaking up from the coldness.

Originally, [crossed out word] I like cold weather but not in these lousy circumstances; there has to protective gears, hot water and, and ... also, Nivea and warm air conditioning. Don't I sound like a spoiled child? Perhaps I am; but, I have to adapt myself and we seek refuge in God.

Jan 27,

So far, we are still here at Bari camp. The road to Khaldan Camp, our original destination,

is still muddy and bumpy and it is very hard for a car to cross that road.

Therefore, with instruction from Emir Abu-Turkiyyah, we began training here at Bari

Camp until we can easily be transported to where we want.

The first weapon we trained in was the Kalashnikov and Abu-Al-Nur from country

Palestine was out trainer and the one supervising us.

Now, I can easily, praise be to God first and foremost, I can disassemble the machinegun into parts quickly, rather; with my eyes closed as well, all of that within an hour into the class. We took shot with the gun from different positions then we left.

Today from four until five in the morning, I had the guarding shift; collectedness in Allah's cause, God willing. I carried my weapon on my shoulder and took my spot next to a soviet truck that was one of the loots and began guarding.

As a matter of fact, I can only relate the events to you without being able to express my feelings. Believe my dear Hani; I still don't comprehend them yet. Everything around me is; cold, rain, clouds, weapons, mountains, mental comfort and feeling God's acceptance or an attempt to get closer to him; and o God!

One more thing I want to tell you about. Jan 29,

During the time I spent in Bari, Abu-Al-Nur; [crossed out words] our trainer, may God reward him with goodness, he is twenty five years old. With his help, I have fired perhaps my first gunshot ever. I might have fired a BB gun, a gun used for birds; but it was a matter of kids plying type of thing. The proverb goes: I am enslaved to the one who taught me one letter of the alphabet.

I am enslaved to the one who taught me a lesson in religion.

Whoever gives me a lesson in life, I respect him.

Whoever taught how to use a gun to defend my religion, my honor

and myself; ... What? I don't know what to say; however, I will

never forget him; may God bless him.

Jan 29,

Jan 30,

We arrived at Khaldan Camp yesterday. We left Bari Camp in the morning before we eat breakfast and Abu Turkiyyah was the one who gave us a ride in the Soviet truck. After a tough and harsh trip due to the road condition, perhaps took five hours, we arrived at Khaldan. The emir here is Abu-Binan; do you still remember this name? He is from Algeria; assertive leader and soft at the same time. Both camps, Bari and Khaldan, are associated with the mother camp Sada [TN: The camp name means "Echo"] led by Abu-Rihan from Syria.

Anyway, our group, the quintuplet, is missing one person who is Abu-'Azzam; he preferred to return to Peshawar for private circumstances. However, other individuals joined our group and they are; Abu-Waqas from Egypt, Abu-'Ubaydah Al-Qamruni also from Egypt, Abu AL-Fatih from Sri Lanka, [crossed out word] Abu-'Abdallah from Sudan, Abu Al-Jarrah from Yemen, Abu Al-Yusr from Algeria and I. My name was; Abu-Hurayrah [crossed out words]. Every person had a nick name for secretive reasons; the place here is structured. Also, there is electricity through an electric generator and there is a very cold water stream that runs through the camp.

We took our spots in a roomy tent at the bottom of the mountain that surrounds the camp, I mean; at the bottom of one of the mountains that surround the camp. We ate and went back to the tent.

The order here was as follows:

Dawn prayer shortly followed by a sports line-up until ten o'clock; then breakfast,

military lessons, noon prayer, lunch, rest till the afternoon prayer followed by the

afternoon prayer, continuing lessons or field application, evening prayer, dinner, dinner

prayer dismissal and bed time for whoever wanted to; except for Friday which is a resting

day.

Hani,

I feel happiness ... and oh God!

Feb [crossed out word] 5,

Our friend Abu-'Ubaydah A-Bakri Al-Muhajir; the electronics engineer was requested, by name, to make use of his expertise in his study field; thus, one more person is missing from the group and Oh God.

Feb [crossed out word] 7, Rajab 23, [crossed out words]

The time is 7:30.

From Peshawar, once again and due to circumstances related to paperwork associated with traveling, residency in India, the approved stay in Pakistan, and other things, we are on the way to return to India; Hindustan as the Hindus call it; that is the Land of the Hindus, the worshipers of the cow; [TN: the following is crossed out, yet it is illegible "God's curse be upon them"] and his curse be upon the tyrants.

Aug 9,

One word gave me peace and made me decide without hesitation to return to Afghanistan (returning to Afghanistan for good); "Jihad is an ongoing act from now till doomsday and God will reward any one who leaves his country and abandon the luxury of life in the path of God." Praise God; my heart is at peace and I have made my decision.

PS. I heard these comforting words from Sheikh Muhammad Yusif'Abbas, head of the

Mujahidin Services Office, in his speech at the House of Martyrs.

And oh God!

He succeeded Sheikh Al-Jihad 'Abdallah 'Azzam's in heading the office, after he was

killed.

[Signed]

Hain, Aug 9.

Feb [crossed out word] 14,

Mysor, India; I am here again for one week, God willing. Then I will return to Afghanistan; this is the decision and we seek refuge in God.

Feb [crossed out word] 17, Dear,

I am at a give and take state with life; the devil is skillfully manipulating my feelings.

Feb 18,

Do you know that since I went to Afghanistan, I have not smoked! Truly, I have quit smoking completely and praise be to God. Also, since 10 years or more I haven't eaten rice or anything cooked out of being disgusted and dislike; I don't like, I don't like ... until I got only grilled or fried things, but now, I eat everything even you; so be careful! And praise be to God thousand times.

Feb 28: Sha'ban 14,

Dear Hani,

In the train, excuse me; in the bus from Mysor to Bangalore one more time. Yet this time

is the last time, God willing. Bangalore – Delhi – Okara – Lahore then Peshawar/

Afghanistan.

Mar 3:

I am in Haydar Abad now, although I am supposed to be in Delhi but God will is prevailing.

Mar 5.

On the train to Delhi from Haydar Abad; however, this time I'm all alone. I have prepared a detailed letter to my family telling them about my determination and my decision to involve in jihad and ask them for their consent; however, I haven't been able to write it as a final draft in order to send it to them, [crossed out words]

Mar 9,

In Okara, I have two brothers from Sudan who came to perform jihad for Allah's cause. I have met them at the Pakistani embassy.

Mar,11

I am in Peshawar now at the House of Martyrs.

Our friend "Abu 'Abdallah Al-Sudani" [The Sudanese], my friend in the tent at Khaldan Camp, from the first time; do you remember him? The brothers told me that he became martyred, he was killed. A huge rock fell on our tent exactly where he was sitting applying coconut oil on his skin. I really felt sad but he is a martyr. One of the guys said that he smelled of musk; may God have mercy on his soul. I should feel sorry for myself because I didn't precede him. "You are a rowdy guy, Abu Hurayra!" Abu 'Ubaydah Al-Sudani told me this phrase before he died; before I left the camp for the first time. May God bless his soul and may we all follow him to heaven, God willing.

PS. The word "Zawl" means 'Man' in Sudanese dialect

"Inta daiyr shinu" means; 'What do you want' in Sudanese

"Dayir Jaddad." Means; 'Do you want chicken?' in Sudanese

"Bizzaf' means 'A lot' in Algerian dialect.

"Aruh" means; "Come here" in Algerian dialect.

"Dialu" is 'His' and "Walu" is 'Not at all, or never' in Algerian.

Mar 15, 1991. Sah'ban 29,

Now I am and since two days ago at Khaldan Camp for the second time but not in the same tent and not with the same previous group. The previous tent was destroyed when Abu-'Abdallah Al-Sudani martyred, may God bless his soul, "You are a rowdy guy, Abu Hurayra!" Also, I am not Abu-Hurayra this time, rather; I am Abu-Zubaydah. I have changed my nick name, as well, my original family name. The previous group finished their militarily lessons and left and I am with a new group now.

I am trying hard that my immigration is honest; new life I plan in the land of the blessed jihad, and oh God!

I have mailed the letter from Peshawar; the one that I have told you about previously. All I have to do is to wait. Well, are they going to answer me? Only God knows.

Ramadan 1, 1411 AH Mar 17, 1991 AD

Blessed Ramadan and many happy returns! May it be a blessed month for you; it is Ramadan, finally!

Perhaps this will be the first Ramadan in my life that I spend perfectly in a place such this;

the land of jihad. It is inevitable that the reward will be doubled, God willing; sincerity

will be abundant and carrying out religious duties will be more effective. God willing,

everything will be perfect, purely to God and away from sins.

The rain is falling softly outside the tent, the weather is somehow cold. Everyone in the

camp is sleeping and I am trying hard to strengthen myself physically by doing few

exercises.

During the morning exercise line-up, I am always at the end of the line. I get exhausted

halfway through and I switch from running to walking or I leave the line.

I don't know why I get tired so fast! I cannot keep it up, but God willing, during this

blessed month and even if were fasting, I will work hard to get used to running and

exercising without getting out of breath or tired.

We seek refuge in God.

Ramadan 11, Mar 26,

Dear 30 years old Hani,

Yesterday, the running problem has been solved. Finally, thank God, I was able to run for

quite distance without being tired or get out of breath.

I have been struggling with this problem for a long period if time. I used to try running at

seven in the morning, but, I used to get tired quickly and go back disappointed and

feeling incapable.

Even here in Afghanistan, when the morning line-up gets going for training, perhaps, I

was the only one who got tired fast and stopped. I don't know why; but finally, the

problem is solved and praise be to God!

The credit goes to Almighty God and Him alone; I have asked him frequently to give me

the strength to run and to become strong as to prepare for jihad, "Against them make

ready your strength to the utmost of your power." [TN: An excerpt from the Qur'an;

Sural Ah-Anfal verse 60].

Also, the credit goes to Almighty God first and second to a mujahid friend from Algeria in my new group at the camp. He showed me and instructed me about the proper war of running without getting tired; regular breathing and steady movement; one running pattern that is slow at first until you warm up then you increase the speed, and so on.

Note: The effects of smoking are the main reason for what I'm suffering from.

Sure enough, praise be to God, with his guidance, I was able to run. Initially, I wasn't tired until after a short distance. Now I participate in the morning exercise line-up with much confidence and thank God. Let's see, what else, what else, nothing but we seek refuge in God. [Signed] Hani1

Do you know that the music and the songs which the human being resorts to for

enjoyment and happiness; give an adverse feeling of misery, sadness and pain.

Since I arrived in Afghanistan, first time and up till now, I promised God not listen to

music or songs and since I abandoned them, I feel a great relief. I no longer feel that same

illusive feeling of invalid pain that is created by the songs and music.

I am free from it and I am truly happy for that. Although I miss it sometimes; yet, I am

very happy; same as my joy for quitting smoking.

Praise be to God! I have gotten rid of the sadness and the illusive pain by deserting listening to music and songs. I even got rid of the deceptive remedy for this unreal pain; that remedy was smoking. Indeed, praise be to God. Nevertheless, the true sorrow and pain still exist and what is the actual remedy for them? Definitely there is an actual remedy and so long as it is true, I will find it; God willing, because it is [IL] and not illusive.

Ramadan 12,

High and powerful tides are hitting the rocky beach stoutly and cruelly as if they are spiteful, revengeful and want to grind it down. The waves start forming in the middle of the sea, almost. Perhaps they start out small and slow then they grow bigger and bigger moving quickly and roaring loudly, beating the rocks at the beach so vigorously almost shaking the earth so the rocks speak out and scream from aches and pain. Also, it is possible that a voice begins form as the wave begins shaping. At the beginning it talks softly unintelligible words as if they are coming from the bottom of the sea. Gradually, it grows louder and louder until it becomes a loud reverberating cry of one whom by the way he talks seems very angry and resentful of everything: however, as soon as the waves in its aggressive assault hit the rocks, the voice turns into one rumbling cry. Another voice; an odd, jumbled, and stretchy voice begins the ascending count in a loud

voice; one, two, three up to ten. As soon as these waves hit the rocks that roaring voice cries "TEN;" strong, loud and trembling at the same time.

Many other varying sounds interpose all of those events as if they are the voices of people fighting or they are parts of different conversations.

Nevertheless, all these voices and noises start out quietly but simultaneously; soon enough they become loud as the waves begin to move, and as they hit the rocks a loud cry erupts; one that combines all these sounds in one strong intonation that shakes the existence; "NO" ... And another reverberating ''NO;" that wakes me up panicking, pinching breaths and hardly retaining them, as well as heavy pressure on my chest keeping my speechless! The echoes of this nightmare continue to deafen me even after I'm awake.

That was a frightening nightmare that continuously stayed with me for over a four years period. I would witness this nightmare daily, maybe. Sometimes before I go to sleep, these reverberations begin to echo in my ear and frighten me; I became terrified of the night, scared of the darkness and hate sleeping.

Gruesome nightmare that made my life stressful; I became hateful of everything and fearful of everything until three years ago; the frightening dream gradually stopped, finally I cherished the night.

The tribute goes to God; "O my Lord! I seek refuge with Thee from Thy anger and Thy punishment and from the evil of Thy servants

and from the suggestions of the evil ones and lest they should come near me" That is a supplication I repeat three times before I go to bed then I sleep like a little kid feeling nothing but that I'm sleeping. I never felt a sound sleep until I have learned of this supplication; so, I'll never abandon it and praise be to God.

Yet, I'm not sure why I have told you about this nightmare? Perhaps because I couldn't find anything better to tell you; so I told you about it just for the sake of talking to you. Bye

Note: Not on the topic, of course.

Today, I have announced being bankrupted; I don't have a penny, I mean a Rupee. There

is no source of income except for aids from the house that I belong to; the House of the

Martyrs, obviously. I ask God to save my face; I sold everything and asked my father not

to send me any money as long as I have quit studying, all of that is for the sake of Allah

and we seek refuge in Him.

Hani1.

Ramadan 17, Apr 2,

A minor emotional turmoil is storming through my feelings; I cannot define the feelings I'm experiencing. I am not depressed and I am not very happy either. To begin with, I am not confused psychologically; perhaps I feel settled down due to being mentally determined to engage in jihad. Jihad is the future and my future is jihad; but simple difficulties are befalling upon me and I am not trying to adapt. And we seek refuge in Allah! [Signed] Hani1.

Ramadan 23, 1411 AH Apr 8, 1991 AD.

Martyrdom for Allah's cause! I become dreaming of it because of all I hear about its virtue and standing by Almighty God; also, for disinterest in life and fear of changing of the hearts. O Lord! The changer of the hearts, keep our hearts set on faith and jihad. Sometimes, I wish for a bullet or a swift shell to take me to meet my Lord as a martyr; especially during guarding hours at the camp. Not out of fear but to expedite the meeting with the Lord.

But is it permissible for me to expedite the martyrdom while I haven't offered anything to my Islamic Nation; besides, the true purpose of jihad is

usually lifting the words of "No God but Allah" or spreading His religion; however, up

till now, I have not fired a shot at Allah's enemies.

Some of the new mujahideen brothers whom I train together with say that they don't

want to become martyrs now, rather, they want to see the Islamic Caliphate return then

martyrdom in Jerusalem or any other place.

But, I cannot wait; I want to be martyr for Allah's cause quickly. I, and God is my

witness, am longing to see the face of the His Almighty God, His gardens, and what He

had promised.

I become so disinterested in life, I don't want it; its living doesn't entice me, even its women -- clay virgins -- became a passing evil thought that excite me for a moment then disappear or a wet dream that I shower after having it while I am hateful of it. So, those with the lustrous eyes -- virgins of heaven -- are the aspiration and purpose.

I am also dreaming of the return of the Islamic Caliphate for a while, even before I arrived here; although that I believe that I will not be among the group or the generation who will witness it. Rather, we, Al-mujahideen will be the here in Afghanistan; that is if God approved of me and considered me a mujahid. I say that we will be the bridge or the

road to establishing an Islamic Caliphate once again, God willing. Or (the road) to Palestine; the road to it is mined with treacherous Presidents.

Therefore, and God only knows, we will not see that day when Islam and its people

reclaim their pride fully. That alone is an honor, meaning; to be [IL]. To give our lives for

the glory of this religion is the honor itself, and I am giving it at a low cost and ask God

to grant me patience, strengthen me and keep my heart steadfast in the faith and jihad for

his cause and to endow martyrdom upon me; which is all the future and all the hope right

now.

And we seek refuge in Allah and oh God!

[Signed] Hani1.

Note:

If I am not destined to witness Palestine conquered, that is after the conquer of

Afghanistan and the establishment of an Islamic state in it, and if I am not destined to live

and witness the return of the Islamic Caliphate in spite of the difficult path, Lord! I

wonder if I am destined to live and see Hani2.

[Signed] Hani1.

Ramadan 25,

Dear Hani2,

It time is 8:03 am, I will go back a couple of hours then I will return to this time; I will go

back to 4:00 am.

Few moments ago, we finished eating the Suhur meal [TN: The meal that precede the

fasting day]. It was still pitch-black dark; the white string of dawn did not appear yet.

At4:30 I had guarding duty of the camp gate.

Before that, perhaps at 2:30 this morning also, I woke up upon a strange dream. I had a

dream of my family; my mother, father, and my brother Mahir. Three nights in a row, I

have been having dreams of my family but in a form of a hoard of events and different

personality; so.I don't understand a thing. Yet today, the vision was different.

I have dreamed that I have been getting my stuff ready, my brother and I, perhaps I am bidding them a farewell; I want to migrate to jihad. My brother went to school, which school I don't know, anyway; I am bidding them farewell and they are angry, a dark road in the night and I don't remember anything else.

I woke up surprised at 2:30 and the brothers at the mask were praying all through the night at the mosque. Out of nowhere the martyrdom idea occurred to me; since they are saying goodbye to me, does that mean I am going to become a martyr today?

I rushed to the stream, performed ablution then I joined those praying. I prayed four

prostrations, the all night prayer, and the Witr prayer [TN: Non compulsory prayer; extra

prayer and prostration as long as they are more than one] and that is for the first time

during Ramadan. (I am making progress in my relationship with God as I take steps

forward in submission and commitment according to shari'ah dictates).

I cried during than and I sensed that martyrdom is near. I asked God that it is the case and

that I have interpreted the vision the right way; farewell means that, God willing, I will

become a martyr.

Then, it is four'in the morning; I have finished my Suhur meal with high hopes to become

a martyr at any cost before I eat my Suhur, the Suhur food. I am all enthusiastic in a

mixture of tears and a big smile; will I become martyr today? "He may take to Himself

from your ranks martyr-witnesses." Will God take me as a martyr?

Joy continued filling my heart and I was all hopeful of what I was thinking of, until it

became time for the guarding duty. I performed the dawn prayer with the group and the

guards' emir read surat "Perish the hands of the Father of Flame! Perish him!"

At that point I took a moment for myself as a shivered; I saw myself saying goodbye to

them and they are angry, then the dark road. The happiness turned into fear, I don't know

why! And suddenly I felt scared of the dream.

Perhaps I didn't interpret the dream as I should. Perhaps it doesn't mean martyrdom;

maybe it is such as; God is angry with me and something similar, I seek refuge with God

from that. I collected myself in confusion, not knowing what this dream meant. Is it a

silly dream with no meaning!

My guarding duty ended at six in the morning; I surrendered the weapon and the

ammunition. I almost went to the mosque; to ask for God' forgiveness and to cry and

wash my heart, then I would return to you and talk to you about my feelings, through this

notebook of course. Yet, someone called me for exercise; to run.

During the last ten days of Ramadan, the exercise line-up is cancelled in the camp, but; I

practice on my own.

It is 8:03 now, rather; it is 8:25. I just returned from my morning exercise. I don't feel tired but the strange dream is still bothering me.

But then I go back to think that I have not done anything that is worth me becoming a martyr in Allah's cause; my sins are great, I am working hard in it and ask God for forgiveness and health. Oh God! Please make it a blessing, oh Lord!

One more thing, during the all night prayer, I was crying hard but with a big smile all over my face that I could not hide.

Hani1

Sahwwal 1, 1411 AH Apr 15 or 16,

Dear Hani2,

Today is the 1^st of Shawwal; the first day of al-Fitr Holiday, many happy returns or

pardon me! First: It is not the usual many happy returns, rather; I ask God that I will be

among those martyrs before the next Fitr Holiday come upon us next year or even before

the next Ramadan or before the next morning. I am yearning to see the Almighty Allah's

face and I ask His Almighty for his approval.

Anyway, many happy returns and victory to the Muslims!

Also, the main thing is that there is really nothing knew that I can talk to you about

except for few memories that I will mention successively despite their varying times and

locations. Some memories might be earlier than others in time but they are listed at late

time in my writing; however, I will try to list them and please forgive me if I make

mistakes.

Actually, I don't know why I felt the need to talk to you about these following memories

or the memories I am going to specifically mention and exclude others. Or the ones that I

will employ my ability to extract them out of my memory just for the sake of talking to

you; perhaps out of love to you or to spend longer time with you.

* Second grade; a little child, of course, I came home carrying my report card and I had two circles in red over mathematics, excuse me, it is called arithmetic at that grade, and Qur'an.

I entered the house scared, sad or perhaps stagnant; I can't tell. The main thing is that I entered surrendering, and to fail in school, is sufficient reason for you.

* Once again I returned home with my report card; second grade also, but it was the one after I retook these two subjects. I believe it was about a month after the actual official test in which I failed arithmetic and Qur'an. This time I was succeeding; I passed both subjects, and my mother was very happy that I won't have to retake these subjects.

* My mother, my father, uncle Yusif, Aunt Kamilah and we; I mean my brothers and I, all are standing tall.

The event: My mother divorced, for the first or the second time; I can't recall, she is divorced twice now and she has one more time, and we ask for God's blessings, before she is considered completely divorced.

What I mean here is that my mother is divorced and is getting ready to leave with my uncle Yusif to another area in Saudi Arabia called Al-Baha, where he lives with his wife and children.

My brothers are crying, my father is quiet, my uncle is quiet, my mother and aunt Kamilah (May God forgive her) are having minor skirmishes and I am in the bathroom. Before my mother left, she told us, "Don't eat from aunt Kamilah so she would not poison you." Kamilah and my father, who was angry at the situation, heard her. Then, my mother left and all that remained was crying and sorrow for a whole month, maybe. Then, she returned once again and that's it.

* This incident is perhaps prior to the one before it, I'm not sure, anyway; here it is.

We are in our small apartment in Al-'Amarah Al-Qadimah. I believe that the address was:

Al-Salam Building, across the street from Al-Hijaz stop, apartment no. 14, and second

floor.

In the guestroom; the guests were sitting where Al-Quds painting was, which my dad

painted on the wall. Anyway; I think that Sheikh 'Ali Al-Tantawi was on TV and my

mother was listening with much attention, we are around her and aunt Kamilah was

holding a book as she was a student.

My father came in from outside and he was agitated and yelling loudly objecting to

inconveniencing aunt Kamilah with watching TV. My mother was trying to convince him

to finish this program and then Kamilah will have an opportunity to study. But my father

turned off the television.

My mother was upset for being insulted and said goodbye.

She wore her black aba and left, I don't know where to!

My father did not talk and we entered the inside room frightened as to where she went, I mean; our mother, we were little and our oldest was only in intermediate school and ... and that's it.

Continued,

* Prince bin Dayil's family ... "Wife Latifa" called us few hours after my mother left asking us to join them in a small trip. Everything happened so fast and we ended in the huge farm that "Bin Dayil" owns. My mother was there; when she left the apartment, she went to them and I don't know why.

Later, it was time to return; after lunch at the farm. Our father yelled at us to get in the car; it was a red Buick, as I recall. Anyway, my brothers and aunt Kamilah have gathered and my father was about to get moving and didn't care, I think. But my mother asked Latifa, Bin Dayil's wife; his second and young wife, to walk her to my father's car so she will be the mediator. So, she brought her and told my father, "Abu-Mahir! Seek refuge with God from the devil." So, my mother returned and we returned home and nothing else related to this story except oh my!

Shawwal2,

Dear Hani:

I am still with you in memories series which I have started with you yesterday. As I told

you, they are raiding my memory all of a sudden without permission; so, I wanted to

relate them to you successively.

By the way, many of the memories that occur to me now are those that I have told you

before and I will only mention to you the things that I haven't mentioned before.

* Her and I, may God forgive me, in the same bed. I aroused her instinct and desire by my kisses and my fingers touching her here and there. When she became unable to endure it and so was I, it was inevitable that we have sex; it was a must and we both became wild. Suddenly, I stopped; I was at the apex of excitement and I turned my back to her before I commit what's forbidden while she was clinging onto me begging. Her and I, may God forgive me, are in the same bed; my need for sex is killing me, my excitement is to the max and she, in my experience and God forgive me, is going crazy. But, I turned around at the last moment and began reading surat Al-Kursi to hold myself from adultery. While she, as a Christian, began begging me in Jesus' name, Peace be upon him, to have mercy on her

and to have sex with her. But, Thank God, I didn't do it. I restrained myself at the very last moment, as I am usually with her. i begin arousing her in my special way until she and I become crazy for sex, then I suddenly stop for fear of committing the worst sin; despite my belief that even a kiss to a woman other than the one whom God permitted for me, is a big deal and cannot be underestimated. But my evil side was stronger in that respect until we both reach a degree where I stop and the devil cannot beat me, and praise be to God, and I commit adultery; I do not commit the major one for being fearful of the maximum [punishment].

As a matter of fact, I used to enjoy watching her begging me to have sex with her when she becomes fully lustful not aware of what she is saying. She was, rather; my arrogance or my narcissism were both getting satisfied. I would feel proud of my manhood as she is begging me; while I, myself, almost want to beg her to stop because I am at the climax of lust and desire for sex. But I fear God, so, may God forgive me forget my sins and [crossed out word] thank God that I didn't do.

Also, she told me one day, I was a student in India then, I swear to you; if you have sex with me, I will bring you my 14 year old virgin daughter so you can have sex with her. I don't care if you don't, she is yours anytime you want except that I am yours first. My pride and manhood were at climax of narcissism; but, praise be to God, I didn't do it.

I am laying in bed, she is, forgive me God, uneasy and her breathing is growing louder; she is unbuttoning my shirt and unzipping my pants as she is shaking and unquiet. Her

kisses are hovering over my hot submissive body as I am reciting suart Al-Kursi so I don't commit the grand one. I don't know how shameful of me; two opposites: reciting surat Al-Kursi from the Qur'an while a whore is touching my body, I ask for God's forgiveness. Excuse me; she is not a whore in the traditional meaning of the word. * This picture precedes the one before it, maybe by a long period of time. My father, I, a TV program about drugs, and then a huge problem between us; he looked at me, I was pale and mentally exhausted around the period following high school and before going to college in India. He told me, "If only I found out that you were one of those;" he meant those on drugs. I became furious; screaming then becoming quiet then I added, "Even if I were to do drugs, I will not be blamed; given the life I am living amongst you." He said yelling, "Why, what is that you are missing? You are living the best life." Followed by screaming, [crossed out words] "I need many things that you don't seem to care for. Also, as for education, you seem to close all the doors on me if these doors were not in the field of medicine and only medicine! Your behavior towards me and everything; I don't like anything with you." Then yelling and he took off his head cord and began beating me with it.

I kept yelling, "I don't care!" His beating was getting to my fake pride before reaching my body.

He was tired also; I have wronged him so many times and made him angry. I got dressed and left. Before I step outside the room, he told me as he noticed that I was about to step outside, "get out and don't come back to my home!" Indeed, I left and decided never to go back home. Yet, one step outside the house and I felt the world spinning around me; where would I go, I don't have a penny! Truly, it was a sure feeling of being lost; a feeling of being erratic.

I don't know where my feet lead me; I walked for a long distance. If you still recall; I walked from AL-Shamisi where we used to live to Manfuha where many friends are. This was the neighborhood were we originally lived. My frail feet with the ripped shoes lead me to Abu-Madi's hous. We sat down as I was in pain; we talked and laughed as if nothing had happened. I smoked voraciously; I borrowed money for the cigarettes. It was time to return, it is somehow cold and the distance is far; yet, the distance to where? I don't know. Then, I spent the night by them and I told them about what happened. In the morning, I returned to Al-Shamisi; walking of course. Form one friend to another for a period of a week, I believe; I was borrowing money for food and cigarettes which was the most important this, especially at that time.

Until one day, my father walked on me and the respected clique. We were in a vacant apartment across from my friend Ra'id Al-Masri's apartment. The apartment had no furniture but some wood, trash, dirt and a simple gear that I used as a mattress and blanket at the same time and for few days after I left home. Ra'id's family didn't know, only Ra'id himself knew.

My father walked on us; my mother received a phone call from Ra'id's mother telling her where I was. My mother had called every number in my phonebook asking if anyone saw me.

My father walked in smiling, I was not surprised. Muhammad Abu-'Asba and Tarq 'Ati left to give us an opportunity to talk and Ra'id Al-Masri stayed and brought tea. I have told them earlier that I will never go back home no matter what; life is impossible between my father and I. If he happens to discuss going back with me, I will talk to him about many things that he should not forget so I will not have a heart attack from his attitude towards me or he will not have one from my attitude towards him! However, when he came, we talked about nothing. He came with my mother; they sat for some time. My father sat with Ra'id and I, and my mother sat with Ra'id's mother at their house across from us. Then he stood up and I stood up, he said nothing and I said nothing; and oh my!

Sometimes I compare myself outside the house; careless, barred and feeling of being lost, to my mother's position when she left the house that day; did she feel lost? No doubt that both of us were thinking; where to, but, how and when! And oh my!

* The car is moving fast swallowing the road; almost swallowing the sidewalk or other cars in front of it, as well. Who is the driver? I don't recall; is it Ra'id Al-Masri in his car or Ra'id Fayyad in his father's car? Or is it Tariq 'Atti in the black Honda? I don't remember exactly but I believe that all of those were in the same car, in addition to Abu-'Asbah and Yazid Abu-Jaball, maybe.

Laughing and screaming, the tape recorder is at highest volume, the windows are open and I am unusually quiet, especially when I am with the clique.

But, I have a hiccup in my heart that is restraining my mouth and almost making me cry. My dear Hani2, do you remember those moments? This moment in particular; what type of pain was I feeling? The puff I was taking from my cigarette; very little of it I let out but the rest I retain inside of me so it burns me, and feelings that I became used to; depression, distraction, feeling of loneliness and loss, in addition to a new feeling that began to befriend me along with all the rest; it is a feeling of insecurity, a feeling of being a stranger and unsecure. That feeling was among the most felt ones; I became afraid of being lost outside the house again where I was kicked out once and might be kicked out once again. So my group of feelings got bigger; a new one that is the greatest and most difficult, and oh my!

Dear Hani,

Today is third day of the holiday; Shawwal 3, 1411 AH and Apr 19, 1991 AD.

Although the calendar states that today is Aril 18, anyway, today is Thursday and

tomorrow is Friday, of course.

I am still with you on the quick memories' series, old and new; a month ago, a year ago,

ten years ago or sometimes ten hours ago. Any way, they are quick pictures that pass my

memory at the speed of lightning without an actual occasion or even without anything thing that prompts my memory of it. However, they come and go; some of them make me happy, some make me sad and some make scared of His Almighty God and I was rude during them.

But, but memories are my provision; I do need joy and sorrow, and since most of these memories took place before I decide to write to you these memoirs; I like to write them now even if they were quick so you Hani two at thirty years of age will read them and thank me for writing them. Perhaps they will be old by then, your memory had lost them or time had forgotten you. Hani2.

*  I am in grade school; sixth grade. I returned from school with money in my pocket; five Riyals only. It is not only, it is a lot of money for a little kid; especially me.

Well, first, my mom was roasting some whole wheat for us and I wanted to take some to school to eat it during recess. Some of my classmates tasted it; they liked and asked me to bring some more.

The following day I brought some more but this time I sold it to them and this way I made five Riyals. On my way back from school, there was this incident. A cab driver is yelling at a guy from Sudan; the cab driver is asking him for five Riyals and the guy is complaining that the distance was not worth more than what he had given him. Besides, he doesn't have more than what he gave him and he doesn't have five Riyals. The Sudanese guy is yelling out of embarrassment. I gave him the five Riyals happily. The driver took them and left cursing all the customers who are like the Sudanese guy. The other guy told me while being embarrassed, "Thank you man," although; I am a child and not a man.

* I am in bed at the hospital, a needle, a syringe a tube and a bag of blood; I was giving blood for exchange of three hundred Saudi Riyals. My father is well off but not being in harmony forced me to sell my blood and get spending money as pocket money.

* Then the more recent picture; it was on Ramadan 25 and I have told you about it, but it is still stuck in my memory and I surprised by attitude at that day.

I am praying all night with a group, my tears are falling heavily and I am having a runny nose as the tears are falling, my heart I shaking; I'm not sure if it is out of fear or out of happiness, a big and full smile that is not allowing me to read with the imam or even praise. A smile that has swallowed most of my facial expressions exposing my teeth and I cannot stop it, it is indeed a strange thing; tears and a full smile!

Tears are necessitated by the situation and my feelings towards being the presence of God; fear, desire, awe and a smile that is caused by that dream, the one I have told you about, and I felt that His words, "He may take to Himself from your ranks martyr-witnesses," are applying to me and today I am a martyr, no doubt! However, I did not become a martyr yet and I am still with you and perhaps you are with me.

[Signed]

By the way, the idea of jihad for Allah's cause in its meaning and perception is revealing itself to me and becoming more refined. Also, the supplication of, oh God! I ask you for martyrdom after a long life and good deeds, is developing in concept and becoming; oh God! grant us martyrdom in Jerusalem, defining a goal almost. Then, we still have the Islamic caliphate in Palestine and Rome according to the prophet's promise and oh God!

Shawwal 10, Apr 25,

Dear Hani2,

I have received a letter from my father yesterday; it was in response to the letter I have

sent them to inform them about the issue of "Hegira and Jihad."

And ... Hani ...? ...? ...! ...!? How are you? And why did you become? That was how he

began his lengthy letter to me, and by this kind of beginning, my dear Hani2 you can

speculate on its contents; the shock that struck them, anger and indirect sympathy,

advices, and "Hani! You know that I can bring you here forcefully, but I don't want to do

anything that you will not like and I don't want to be the one who will put you in jail."

Threatening ... then with words that he tried to make them touching, he told me that he is

accepting condolences for his death from people and that he is considering me dead and

missing.

Many things he wrote in his letter that hurt me a little, and then he concluded his letter

with the phrase "Sender; Muhammad." He didn't say your father as it is usually the case

in his letters; as if he is indicating that he is no longer my father.

The letter ended and I was not affected much by what he wrote or said; I expected that

and they have their excuse. It is hard for them to imagine me quitting school when I am

close to getting a bachelor degree and to go where to? To jihad, war, fire and being a

stranger! That is their opinion.

Everything he said or wrote was fine and I forgive them and adapt to it. But he said, "Your brother Hisham has cancer and he has gone through a urinary system surgery; he is s skeleton with no hair or eyelashes even. At this point I felt crippled. I took a pause for few moments away from the letter to think of my beloved brother Hisham. Then I wrote a 28 page letter to send to them. I told them about my persistence and Hisham is still concerning me a great deal, but we seek refuge in God and oh God! I ask you to keep me steadfast. Goodbye. Hani.

PS. My dear Hani2,I don't think that you forgot my father's previous letters and "My engineer son, Hani," "To the computer engineer," "Hani, esquire," and, and ... Used to be nice introduction to his letters, but! Praise God the One who is capable of changing things around.

Also, I explained to him in my 28 page letter, just as I did in the first letter, that jihad now is an individual duty and in that case the mujahid son has the right to leave without his father's approval; "The servant without his master's approval, the woman without her husband's permission, with a Mahram, for jihad and hopefully he will be convinced.

Apr 29,

Shawwal 15,

It is not Shawwal 14; during the past days of this month, I was making mistakes about the

calendar conversion between the Georgian year and the Hegira year, my dear Hani. So,

please forgive or don't forgive me.

Anyway; nothing new, I am about to be done with weapons course, the simplified one of course. Now, I am studying along with a group the "mortar gun" and the "82 mm" gun. Also, we have been told that we will be going to one of the most modern fronts; "Gardez." for practical applications; perhaps in the rear lines and to construct the front sites with the mujahideen and maybe not. The information is not definite because: it is still a new front. The prophet; God's prayer, peace and mercy be upon him, said to the extent which "Whomever wanted an honest martyrdom in Allah's cause, it will be granted to him."

There's an opportunity here to go to one of the jihad fronts; an opportunity to get ready for martyrdom and to make every effort and hopefully His words, "He may take to Himself from your ranks martyrs," will apply to us.

Oh God! I ask that you make me a martyr;" a supplication that goes through my mind and fill me with joy while I am aspiring for what my God has. And oh God! Martyrdom, martyrdom!

Shawwal 16, Apr 30,

Today ... only a little bit ago perhaps half an hour ago and during the military class of the 82 mm gun, an individual came up to my trainer and asked him if he could have few words with me, alone and outside the class.

He was one of the brothers who were responsible for the "Zakuyak or to be correct; the Dimitrov anti aircraft at the top of the mountain overlooking the camp, thus the wireless communication between camps or between our camp, Khaldan, to any front is done through them because of their high spot which allows for better communication. Anyway, the brother came and excused himself to tell me that they had received a wireless call asking specifically for me from Bari Camp stating that Mahir, Abu

Zubaydah's brother, wants to see him urgently either in Bari or in Peshawar and that he

[my brother] is expecting a phone call from me in the evening.

I was surprised by the new; what is my brother Mahir doing in Afghanistan? Maybe my

father had asked to convince me change my mind about the hegira and jihad due to their

lack of understanding for its true meaning and sublimity and nothing else.

I am waiting until it is the evening so I can call him; I might angry and might scream in

his face through the wireless apparatus; but, I don't know what to say, he will not

understand and will not be able to.

Anyway, until it is the evening hour, I have time to tell you about my brother Mahir. You might be Hani2 or you became Hani2 and forgot about some incidents that took place with Mahir, your brother who is one year older than you, and about two years ahead of you in school because he had an early admission to school. That is in addition to me being behind after high school. Anyway, he is Mahir Muhammad Abu-Zubaydah, of course.

As a child, he was lively and active and in spite of him being skinny he loved assembling and disassembling electrical apparatuses and toys that he comes across. Most of the time he used to fix any electric damage at the house, while I was cold; didn't like to interfere in things that I don't about like assembling and disassembling or even electricity. Moreover, I wouldn't change a bad light bulb even once it's out. At one time, my dad prevented us from leaving the house when we were little, not even to play with the neighbors' kids. He used to go out a lot when my father is not home, he will play with kids or walk away from the house with them. My dad will punish him harshly; he used to apply the way he treated his students at school, as a grade school teacher, on us. I used to get harsh punishment over other things. Frequently I broke the house furniture, the hanging pictures or the widows and such [IL].

Besides, the two of us used to fight as two little kids and then as two boys in middle school then as two teenagers and as two young men.

We used to fight, yell and disagree but we remain two brothers. This was the case until we separated when he left to Greece then to Pakistan to study medicine and I went to India to study computer.

PS. His interests were in western music especially the one that his friends enjoyed, and also assembling and disassembling like I have told you; in addition to other things. I used to enjoy other things like reading illustrated stories (he enjoyed them as well) reading books, any type of books and any field; psychology, philosophy and Parapsychology books. I also had interests in sports and body building without being able to practice it except for a little bit. Also, I enjoyed war games.

So, he ended up studying medicine which has nothing to do a screwdriver, pliers, assembling and disassembling and electricity; while I studied computer, a strictly

scientific field that involves assembling, disassembling and math with no room for poetry and liberal arts in it. Praise be to God!

Also, we were little then; our dad asked, as he was taping what we were saying on a tape recorder, about our future aspirations.

Mahir said, "A doctor" and I said, "An engineer." We were four and five years old that day. And praise be to God; he became a doctor and I almost became a computer engineer. But thank God! I became mujahid ... I do not promote myself in the eyes of God but suppose I am and I ask God for acceptance

Anyway, we separated since two years or less and I haven't seen him except for once, when I returned home after being kicked out of it. He was there visiting that day and to take care of some procedures concerning Saudi residency from Pakistan. Also, suddenly I remembered a situation; my father and I were standing by the counter, my father was trying to pay the electric bill and talking to the employee and the statement is in his hand, I am next to him, tiny; can hardly reach up to his knee or his belt. Suddenly, the electricity was disconnected from the electric main. I stepped away from my dad and Mahir took my spot. The electricity came back, my father looked around and saw Mahir standing next to him; he commented laughingly and telling the guys, whom he was talking to about different things, that as soon as I walked away the electricity came back and that I am a bad luck and I jinx everything (there was a TV series that talked about a guy who is a jinx) and that Mahir was a good luck.

This is not an incident that indicates anything in particular towards my older brother Mahir; however it just occurred to me as I was talking and I mentioned it. Also, I have often refused to obey and was defiant; while he was almost obedient, praise God, until my father chose for him to go to medical school and he did study it and may-God bless him.

He chose medical school for me as well, but I refused and insisted not to study medicine at all and praise God.

Anyway, I will call Mahir in Bari in few hours and find out what he wants. The time right now is eight in the evening. Two hours ago, I made the phone call thru the wireless on top of the "Zakuyak" mountain; the Dimitrov.

The call lasted five minutes, all he said was that he came from Pakistan with a friend in order to see me and make sure that I am doing well; after he learned about my hegira and jihad thing. He also came to check out the place and that he will return to here; to Afghanistan to train fully but that is after he is done with his finals in Pakistan. I believe it is his last year in school. However, this time around he is here just to visit and check on me and he brought me some canned food and news

from my family (your mother is worried about you) and nothing else. Yet, when I asked him about Hisham and whether he is truly ill or it is a technique that my father used to affect me? He was shocked and got worried. He then asked me if I could go there to meet him in Bari. When I told him to return to his studies now and to your finals because it is hard for me to get to leave the camp and for him to come to see me is not an easy matter; especially that I might be leaving the camp in few days to go to one of the fronts. When I told him, he said that he will try to come to Khaldan no matter what even if he has to pay for his own transportation.

I felt from his tone that he had received instructions from my dad to influence me and my thinking. I didn't answer him with more than, fear God and go back to your study and one day I will try to visit you.

The call was disconnected! And I will quit writing because the light is about to go off and it is bed time at the camp. Today I don't have guarding duty; so, I will have a long sleep. I have bothered by my dad's letter; the one I have told you about and have not slept well since then. Yet, today I will sleep well, God willing. Perhaps Mahir would come here and maybe not. Goodbye Hani2.

Shawwal 17, May 1,

My brother, Mahir, came finally. In short, we sat together and talked. He talked about

many things that are somehow frustrating; the mother, the father, the brothers, Hisham,

and parents' obedience and, and ... in addition to few quick fatwas created by his

emotions. Anyway, we both do not and will not understand each other.

Also, dear Hani2,

We sat by the river or the stream that runs through the camp. I was reading the letter that

I have sent to the brothers in Peshawar so they would send it to my family in Saudi

Arabia. The 28 page letter and he was reading my father's letter to me; I gave it to him to

read it. He said, "Read your father's letter; it is better for you." He meant what they are

suffering from because of me. I smiled and ripped it before his eyes while he is shocked

and hurt and his face became gloomy. I tried explaining to him the importance of

sacrifice for the sake of the religion and he tried, may God bless him, to explain to me the

importance of having the parents' approval for jihad.

Anyway, nothing important took place.

However, two situations have affected me before he came and after he came.

First: Before my brother comes.

After the morning exercise line-up, I talked to someone, a friend, who knows my brother Mahir from Pakistan and by accident; he learnt that I am his brother and that the Mahir he knows is my brother. So, we talked about his arrival; the discussion continued for a period of time and another person joined in. The conversation turned into a joke and he

commented, "You are a looser; your brother is a doctor and what are you? You evaded school and he is a doctor now, praise be to God."

I didn't comment much although he degraded me, may God forgive him, and considered what I did; leaving school to join jihad is being a looser, and that my brother Mahir is better now because he is a doctor.

Anyway, that person has his own views and they are not strictly jihadi views; he came to train and leave. He doesn't believe, God knows, in sacrifice for the sake of the religion is a must.

Second: After the arrival of my brother Hani. I have introduced him to the mujahideen

brothers in my group. We talked and then we joked. One of the brothers said to my

brother jokingly, may God bless him, "Take your brother away from here and you come

here. You are a doctor and we need you, as for him, we don't need him at all."

May 2^nd, Mahir left to go to his study and may God be with him and Praise be to God.

Hani.

Shawwal 18, May 2,

These are few quick and short conversations that went between me and my brother Mahir. Because I don't have anything to talk to you about, although I am in dire need to for that; so read what I will write to you. I might be very brief if you don't understand or don't remember.

* Hani, your mother is ill. Mahir said that

I ask God to heal her. She is very sad and sounded tired when I talked to her over the phon on the third day of the Holiday.

May God be with her. That's it! God be with her! That's all? This is your mother.

What about the Umma; the Islamic Nation?

*   Hisham, isn't he your brother? Mahir is saying.

Even if I go visit him, what's going to happen? This is your brother and he is ill.

I will pray for his recovery. If the words in your father's letter true; God help us.

Even if Hisham dies, may God have mercy on his soul and hopefully he will be

among the birds of heaven or its [IL] because he hasn't reached puberty yet.

May God cure him.

*   Hani, wouldn't you do anything for your parents?          That was him.

What can I do?

*  A degree; get a college degree, just for their sake.

I have made my decision and I will be here until God destines me for something. Studying and college degree are over.

*   You have one more year left, just finish it and send them the degree.

It is over.

*   Hani! Why are you so harsh?

*   I don't remember that you were obedient to your parents now or before.

The thing is that jihad is an individual duty and to leave even without their permission is a duty now.

*   But, God said ... The Prophet said ... and, and ...

Fear God and don't issue fatwas. The sheikhs and jihad scholars know better than you do and, "Those who dare to issue fatwas are those most bold to be thrown in hell."

*  Do something for them.

When I will be their mediator, God willing, if I become a martyr, which will be a great favor.

*   Hani, I don't know what to tell you.

Listen to me my brother, fear God and go back to your study; you are in you last year in medical school. Later on if you choose to come here to the land of jihad, to provide services in your field; God bless you. Then you will return to be the support for your parents that is second to God because He is their guardian, you can do that.

* ...

*   Hani! Have you seen the movie "Dil?" It is an Indian movie that inspires the heart.

Yes. It was truly beautiful, I loved it.

Yes, beautiful. Its songs are beautiful, I have recorded them.

It was truly impressive; I have been influenced by it. I have replayed it many times on the video when 'Abdallah and I rented one.

Mahir! The story has scenes from a love story by the British or American writer; I'm not sure, Eric Segal. Anyway, the movie was wonderful!

Do you listen to Chris De Burg and [IL]? I asked him. Oh Chris De Burg; especially the song "Sailor."

While he sings parts of it,

Mahir! Isn't it time that you fear God and quit all these things (songs and movies).

Isn't it time for you to get back to God, Mahir?

* Aren't you going to do something for the sake of your parents? He said. I seek refuge with God from the devil. Oh Hani! Listen! You have advised me and may God bless you. I have the right to accept or decline and I decline; I will not give up jihad as long as I'm living.

Shawwal 18,

It is still the 18 of Shawwal but; dear Hani2 -- the 30 years old -- Do you remember Rami Miqdad? All of a sudden and even,' now and then, his picture jumps to my mind to mess with my memory or the comers of my brain causing mischief; God forbid. As soon as I remember him I smile and a little bit of joy and sadness raid my heart. Rami Miqdad, a petite and skinny young man; he is short somehow, a black mole with ling hair on his right cheek that is visible because there is no beard to hide it. He jokes a lot and sometimes his jokes are not funny to some people; however, he was so sweet; not just sweet, very sweet and dear to my heart.

Rami Miqdad, You don't remember him! Dear Hani, he jokes with his tongue and his hand and do you remember his small car as well?

I don't know why I haven't told you about him before! Although he is worth mentioning and remembering all the time; I knew him during junior high year or even sophomore year, but during senior year we began visiting each other and since then we have not stopped.

Until he traveled to India to study, a little bit before I did. He and I as well as two other guys have sent our applications to Bona/India with some friends to get college acceptance to study. His acceptance letter arrived before mine.

So he traveled and my acceptance letter was late. We have decided to travel together and we planned and, and, and ... But he traveled first and later I received my acceptance and followed him.

Only for a period of one month, we lived together in Bona. I was unable to get into computer in college and I left Bona to Mysor and he stayed in Bona with the other guys. Six months later, we met in Saudi Arabia and have not seen him since. But right now I miss him a lot and only God knows if I will see him.

Now, if I were to tell you about him, I honestly don't know where to start. Should I list and mention few incidents or situations; but I don't think that it would be sufficient. Actually, I appreciate him more than I did before.

As for the first clique; Muhammad, Al-Masri, Fayyad, Tariq, Yazid Abu-Jabal and 'Ala' Abu-Madi, they view Rami as trouble and might not be liked by some. Yet, among the clique; Rami, God bless him, always looks for me and accompanies me. Perhaps he was pushed on them.

But as for the other clique, Muhammad Abu-Madi "the golden heart," and Ra'id Al-Shurbaji, the inconsistent friend that I have not come to understand him yet, to them, Rami was a wonderful friend and if the clique was limited to Muhammad Abu-Madi and I, the description "wonderful" might be correct. I didn't understand Ra'id Al-Shurbaji because he was inconsistent.

Anyway, I used to be embarrassed somehow between the two parties; the first clique being the first party and Rami being the second party. He wants to be with me and so do I, but they don't want him except for Muhammad Abu-'Asbah; Rami was acceptable to him and he is ok. For the rest, Rami presence means bad evening. I myself might have upset him many times or at least embarrassed him by evading him so I don't ruin their evening in the event he is there.

But today, I am in dire need for someone like Rami; he loved me truly, and so did I but I was negligent towards him.

Shawwal 19,

I am still on the topic of Rami Miqdad. Indeed my dear Hani2, I don't know what I would tell you about him. I just have a desire to talk about him and remembering him but how to start, I don't know.

Anyway, I tried for an hour or more to know where to start; yet, I couldn't. Therefore, there is no need, at least today, to talk with or about my friend Rami. Perhaps one day, if I remember, I will tell you about an incident or such. Bye.

Moreover, don't forget to talk about Muhammad Abu-Madi; provided that I remembered

something about both of them.

Bye.

Today is Thursday; Shawwal 25, 1411 AH. May 9, 1991 AD.

Dear Hani2,

Finally, with God's grace, I have finished the weapons course; Thank God! The course included; the Kalashnikov, Degtyaryov, RPD, Bruno, heavy Girinov, English Riffle GR, Ml7, Doshka, Ml6 machinegun, Dimitrov, RPG launcher, Mortar Gun, 82 mm Gun, and two more guns; BM1 & BM12 of the 12 cylinders.

Now I am taking a simplified and quick first aid course. Then, God willing, the group and I, I have told you before about some of them rushing to go to the fronts, will enter a course in explosives and bombs. So it was written, and so it will be done according to God's will.

As a matter of fact, I have decided with God's will to stay at the training camps; from one camp to another and from one course to another, so I will be fully prepared. From weapons to explosives to tactics, to, to, to ... until I become effective in jihad. His Almighty said, "Against them make ready your strength to the utmost of your power, etc. ..." Also, it is the advice of Abu-Binan the camp emir, the veteran and experienced guy; the one who keeps his word. And we seek refuge in God.

Also, there is something I want to tell you about, that is; Asadallah or 'Abd-al-Rahman

Abd-al-Sabur, an American Mujahid. His brother and he are the only two from America

that I have seen in jihad or I know about.

He is a man in his thirties who came here with his young brother Sayfallah, a twenty

three year old, from their homeland to here in order to perform jihad for Allah's cause.

The older brother, Asadallah, believed in Islam first then he presented it to his brother

and convinced him it; so his brother believed. Then the younger brother Sayfallah came

to Afghanistan for jihad and when he returned, he convinced his older brother of jihad; so,

the latter came to Afghanistan.

Honestly, I like this person, Asadallah; there is a strange charm about his faith. His belief

is pleasant and you feel it when he talks about Islam and how he believed in it.

That's why I loved him in God, God willing, and my dear Hani2; I wanted to tell you

about him a little bit.

He had told me earlier about how he believed in Islam in America and how he returned

home quickly and frantically to present Islam to his wife; whose parents were strict

Catholics and she hated religion. When her husband came home so enthusiastic, she

refused it; he made her choose between Islam and divorce, and so it was divorce.

Also, he told me about how he was searching for a Muslim wife until he found 'Aziza,

his current wife, who is in Peshawar, as we speak, waiting for husband to return every

now and then.

Furthermore, how he changed his Christian name into a Muslim name; 'Abd-al-Rahman

'Abd-al-Sabur, he told me many more things. I saw a beautiful passion for Islam in every

word he said.

Praise be to Allah! How was he able to dig out this beautiful outlook on Islam from the

ugly American society that is not forgiving!

Also, I have told him once about Heaven and the virgins; he was listening with

enthusiasm, and when he asked me about the fate of his wife whom he loves so much, I

told him what I know and only God knows if she will be the most beautiful virgin, as

beautiful or their queen.

He yelled WOW in a loud voice that drew everyone's attention. He told me that he would

like to tell 'Aziza about this information because she asks him about it all the time and he

doesn't know what to tell her; he loves her a lot.

So when he traveled to Peshawar then to Jibbah for some time then back to. Peshawar

then to here to finish training; he told me, "Thank God you are here! I expected not to

find you and was praying all the way here that I find you."

Thank you (I said), I appreciate this kind feeling towards me.

When I asked him if he had told his wife, he told me, "I told my wife 'Aziza that she will

be the queen of virgins in heaven if I become a martyr." She said happily, "Good! I will

have enough power over your virgins as their queen and will order them to keep away

from you so you will be mine and mine alone."

Praise God! Also, one time I was talking to him about martyrdom for Allah's cause; he

said, "I don't want to become a martyr here in Afghanistan." He said it in English. I told

him surprisingly, "Whay?" [sic] Why? He said calmly and in Arabic, "In Palestine my

brother; in Jerusalem." He continued in English, "Martyrdom there is considered twice."

I did not find an answer; Two martyrdoms for fighting the Jews.

As a matter of fact, I felt ashamed of myself; I am originally from Palestine, the land and

the country where Jerusalem is, yet I am asking to become a martyr over here in fear of

changing my mind, sin, or becoming tired and weak.

I am rushing becoming a martyr for Allah's cause; thus, I have not given anything to the

religion and to making it victorious yet. Prais be to Allah the sustainer of the worlds.

Only God knows and He is the most Merciful to me and him, Peace be upon you.

Note:

He also told me once that he wants to have kids but his wife, the one he loves, cannot

have children and he wants children to raise them to be mujahideen; besides, the Prophet

urges him to have children, so what can he do?

Today, right after dinner, he told me suddenly, "Do you have a sister? Does she wear the

head scarf? How old is she?"

After I answered his questions, I asked him, "Why?" He said, "If I ask to marry her,

would you agree?"

I laughed for a bit and told him, "I will be happy to have him as my sister's husband;

especially the one who refuses to marry but a guy with a beard, [crossed out words] But,

it is almost impossible for me to see my sister now that I have migrated away from them;

so, how could you want her as a wife?"

He laughed, rather, he smiled and said, "Anyway, I'm not young; I am 27," or perhaps he

said 37,I don't recall.

Anyway, praise be to God!

It is only 27. This note is a week later.

Dhu 1-Qa'da 3, May 17,

Yesterday, the group and I began a special course in explosives. It seems that we are up to a tough course; the trainer is insisting to make it a course in explosives and preparation for another course in tactics.

The morning exercise line-up begins at 6:00 am; jogging, fast pace running, mountain climbing and special exercises. Another exercise line-up and so on. The military class is after the after-noon prayer, and we seek refuge with God.

Hani

Signature

As you notice, most of the ideas I'm dealing with now at the jihad level are practical and

they were the same ideas but unorganized and not fully clear. Perhaps, life's stress and

order prevented from enhancing them practically or even from thinking about them; such

as martyrdom, caliphate and Islamic principles. Do you recall my disagreement with

Muhammad Abu-'Asba about jihad and fighting with Yasir Arafat?

Things are clearing up more over here; they are the very same ideas I had, however, they were lost and now they found a place to land in my brain and fitting them in reality.

Dhu 1-Qa'da 16, May 30,

I am still at Khaldan Camp; I thought that the war front will be soon, but the explosives'

course is not done yet. We, the group, are still going between training theoretically and

hands-on, explosion, making, constructing, dirt, mud, barriers, barbed wires, etc. ...

But there is one thing that I would like to tell you;

First: in spite of the physical fatigue that I am experiencing, I am mentally relaxed. I have

never been so exhausted in my life before and for Allah's cause; yet, God willing, Allah

will accept that from me.

The phrase, "Whoever doesn't like it can pack and go back to Peshawar," is repeated

frequently by the Camp emir and sometimes by his deputy and also by the trainer in

charge of the group occasionally.

In addition to that phrase, certain conduct by the temporary emir and the trainer make me

feel degraded.

And the question is; will there be a day where I find myself denied training or declined

Jihad for a mistake I have made? If it happens; what? Why? How? When? But!

I seek refuge with God from evil; all these are delusions from the devil and oh God! Keep me steadfast, patient and then the martyrdom.

Dhul-Qa'da 18, June 1,

Dear Hani,

Do you know that sometimes I feel sorry for poor Pluto; because he used to dream of the perfect city where angle-like people live in it?

Definitely that is impossible for people or for a city inhibited by people. Even I find myself sometimes among angels but the truth comes out and the weak points surface; which brings people back to the reality that they are weak human beings and they are not perfect and only angels are angles and no one else.

As for human beings; they are made up of the mean ingredients of inferiority, weakness, fear and anger and ...

He was born to be scared sometimes, and other than that occasionally and an hour by an hour. Truly; poor Pluto! And you too Hani1 & 2, are poor.

Bye.

[Signed]

Hani Abu-Zybayda.

Dhul-Hijja4, Jun 16,

The time is approximately 10:15, the day is Sunday.

Place: So far Khaldan Camp, Afghanistan; nothing new under the sun light, as of yet.

But the yearning for the battlefront is overpowering all other emotions; the longing to

Gardez. Although the work there, God willing and we go there after concluding the

explosives course, will consist of digging and building (constructing the back line) until

further notice. And we seek refuge in God for that.

However, I am running out of patience, almost, and the yearning is great and when will

we go there? When will we leave Khaldan?

Another thing dear Hani,

A six month military course at another camp, "Echo" weapons, explosives, tactic and

survey which is the most important along with the tactic; it will begin soon and which

one will I choose? Gardez Front which is in dire need for us, according to the current

camp leader, Abu-Binan who is in charge of constructing the back lines then the front

lines of Gardez Front.

Or the military course which will qualify one who crraduates from it to be a trainer, of

course I have no aspiration for that, but I am just giving you an idea about its importance

and the advantage for one who trains there in terms of physical fitness and military

experience. Also, the study of survey; which is a course that deals with sites, correction,

and precise shooting at the enemy's targets and etc..

So, which one would I choose? I aspire to have great physical fitness and good military

experience to be effective in the battles and in the war front.

But, I go back to say, if Gardez is in need now, God willing, I will go there.

If I am destined to live, and I ask God that I don't return but a martyred, but if God did

not allow for that and I was destined to live, the course will be repeated and I will join it

later or another one; whichever one God allow for. Oh God!

Hani.

Dhu 1-Hijja 9, 1411 AH

Jun 21, 1991 AD. Today is Friday.

It is 'Arafa day [TN: Mount 'Arafa in Saudi Arabia; the day the pilgrims congregate at

mount Arafat in Mecca], and a fasting day of course.

Tomorrow is Al-Adha Holiday. Many happy returns to the Islamic Nation and hopefully

it will be witnessing good and victory and I don't know what to say.

Anyway, bye, sorry, be safe.

Saturday; Dhu 1-Hijja 10,1411 AH. Jun 22, 1991 AD.

Blessed Holiday Hani1, Hani2 and Hani ∞ infinity!

Today was much fun; shooting, snipping, I hit the center of the target with one bullet out

of six. Then we had swimming in the pool close to the camp.

Note: It seems that I didn't tell you that I have learned swimming here and that I am a

first class swimmer now. Not the first of course but maybe among the first ten or twenty.

Anyway, praise be to God; I know how to swim well now.

And once again; blessed Holiday.

Dhu 1-Hijja 15,

Jun 27,

Dear Hani2,

Today or tomorrow, maybe, we will leave to Gardez, God willing. Everything is ready and we only have to read the "Riding Supplication" as we are riding the transportation vehicle or the car that is going to take us to Gardez, and we seek refuge in God.

A memory note from some brothers whom I might not see again; but, [IL] I don't know.

Anyway, if their names are still in your memory, try to remember their pictures.

1. It is handwritten by each one of them:

* Your brother Abu-Usama Al-Tabbuki - Abu-Al-Dahhak Al-Faqir,

Expatriate for Allah's cause, I ask the Almighty God that our paths will cross again; just

as He made us meet in this camp. Please forgive me and may God bless you.

Your brothet AI-Dahhak Al-Faqir [signed]

*My dear Hani2, do you still remember Abu-Usama? He is from Yemen and lives in Saudi Arabia, chubby, dark skin and likes fun and joking; try to remember him.

Your brother Samarqand Al-Jaza'iri, Thursday; Dhu 1-Hijja 16, 1411 Ah,

2. In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful

Praise is to Allah, we praise Him and seek refuge in Him and ask for His rescue. And we seek refuge in him from our own evil and our bad deeds. One who is not guided by God has no gain and one who goes off track has no guide. I attest that there is no God but Allah and that Mohamed is his servant and Prophet.

My brother in God, Abu-Zubaydah, first: I love you! Excuse my bad handwriting. I

advise you to, while we forget, fear God and obey His commands; there is joy for the

Muslim but in following God's orders. Your brother Samarqand whom you've met at

Khaldan Camp and he told you that you have a resemblance to one of the friends in my

city "Al-Jalfa" in Algeria and he used to call you "Subhi."

My brother, in short; I ask Almighty God that we meet in His Gardens and that He will

unite us in Jerusalem as conquerors, God willing.

I love you in God and I ask for you and ask God to grant you martyrdom in his cause.

3. My dear brother Abu-Zubaydah,

I remind you of Almighty God's words' "And fear the day when ye shall be brought back

to Allah. Then shall every soul be paid what it earned, and none shall be dealt with

unjustly."

My dear brother,

When it comes to money, be a strict man,

With traits of forgiveness and generosity

May God grant you success in whatever you desire and don't forget us in your prayers

Your dear brother, Abu-Timiyah

4. My dear brother Abu-Zubaydah,

Please be aware that I love you in God and ask the Almighty God, the Lord of the great throne, that our paths cross in the shadow of his throne in a day when there is no shadow but His and to keep you steadfast along this path until you meet Him as a martyr and that he keeps you strong in His faith. The [Prophet] may God's prayers be upon him said,

"The prudent is the one who judges himself and works for the hereafter ... and the feeble is the one who follows his basic instincts while hoping that God would forgive him." Brother, I recommend that you maintain your piety in privacy as in public ... and adhere to the acts that help you to steadfast in the land of Jihad, recite the Qur'an, pray at night, fast the extra non-compulsory days, and commit acts of goodness. Do not be flattered by being portrayed as a Mujahid ... you should realize that a so-called Mujahid will be the first to feel the fire of hell "A Mujahid who is killed in the path of God"."

Also, I recommend that observe five things that Sheikh 'Abdallah Al-'Azzam used to recommend to the guys; they all start with the same letter, "Sad" [In the source language] Honesty, Prayer, Fasting, Charity, and Silence.

My brother, don't forget us in your prayer; your brother in God, Faysal Al-Jabri, (Abu-Ghazi). Riyadh, Tel. 2314561

5. In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

Praise be to God, the sustainer of the worlds, prayer and peace upon the prophet, those

who follow him and the caliphates.

My honorable brother,

I don't have anything to say to you other than this quotation from a person who adheres to

the right path,

"Perform your prayers, recite the Qur'an, and adhere to the teachings of the traditions of

the prophet. It is not the time to talk, so watch your tongue, and do not reveal your

whereabouts, and act at night, adhere to what you know and abandon what you don't."

And peace, God's blessings and mercy be with you.

Your brother, the meager and poor in God's forgiveness,

Siraj Al-Dunia Al-Wahhaj.

6. In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful,

Praise be to God Whom had gathered us for his cause and mad us available in Him. He

gathered us at Khaldan Camp, so we met without prior arrangement and He brought us

together in harmony; thus, we became one hand for Allah's cause.

The thing that I remind you of is the day when you hade guarding duty and I was the

guards leader; we talked about the Virgins and Heaven. I ask the Almighty God that we

are among the faithful ones in His religion and the ones who will be saved from His

punishment. My brother! I recommend that you be faithful in the work and reading the

Qur'an and peace be upon you. From your loving brother Abu-Sirin Al-Jaza'iri [TN: The last name means; The Algerian]

7. In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful,

May God's prayers be upon the Imam of the Mujahideen [TN: Prophet Mohamed], the

leader of the courageous and the dignified?

From your humble and feeble brother who yearns for God's forgiveness, Praise be to Him,

Shahidallah, Khaldan Camp.

Brother Abu-Zubaydah, I am at lost to express, what!!!

You are my brother in God's [eyes] and what can I say to you..

I love you in God and ask the Almighty God who gathered us in Khaldan to gather us in

paradise under His shade when there is no shade save His. I ask myself and you to fear

God ... and ask you to pray for me at dawn and don't forget us. Praise and thanks be to

God.

Your brother Shahidallah, "Your phrase along with not bad"

The last words of the martyr in God's path [Shahidallah]

Your sentence that had the phrase "not bad" is in local dialect of Al-Aqwat in Algeria. My dear Hani2, I used to say it to my brother Shahidallah whenever I met him and he would respond by, "You miserable, may God not harm you." Which is a phrase, I used to repeat without knowing its meaning.

8. In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful,

May God's prayers and peace be upon the most dignified among messengers.

Peace be upon you, I have nothing but to join your hand with mine and promise God the

following:

1.   To give my life at a low cost to the Almighty God so I will win Heaven.

2.   Not to abandon jihad as long as I am living in Afghanistan; however, if I do leave here to go to another country and then to my country, where the machineguns and artilleries.

3.   To be truthful to God in my; prayer, fasting and words; for when God believes me, I will win Paradise.

4.   Not to make enemy, be angry and make rivals save in God; even if that will cost me my life, my money and my family.

5.   My country is the country of jihad; my father, mother, family, brothers and sisters are from all over the world and those who are in my path and with me in the land of jihad. I realize that when I hear the news of their martyrdom.

These are the recommendations of your brother Abu-Dhakir. If your faith is shaken, remember the auth of Abu-Dhakir.

If you agree, I promise you to pray to God during my prayer to unite me with you in Heaven along with Mohamed, God's prayer and peace be upon him and his companions. From your brother, Abu-Dhakir. [Signed]

Abu-Dhakir is the camp's deputy emir and the emir during the entire training period; may God reward him with goodness.

9. In the name of God, Most gracious, Most Merciful.

Praise be to Allah, The Cherisher and Sustainer of the worlds. God's prayer and peace

upon our master Mohamed, God's prayer and peace be upon him.

Well,

My brother in God, Abu-Zubaydah, I love you in God and ask God to provide us and all

the true mujahideen believers with when there is no shade but His shade.

Also, I ask God to keep you and me steadfast along this path. This nation has no means to

being saved, getting rid of its disgrace, and reclaiming its rights.

I know that you have signed a sales contact with Bakr Al-Karim to sell goods from him

and he will buy it from you for the price of heaven; His Almighty says about him,

"0 ye who believe! Shall I lead you to a bargain that will save you from a grievous

penalty? That ye believe in Allah and His Messenger, and that ye strive (your utmost) in

the cause of Allah with your property and your persons: That will be best for you, if ye

but knew! He will forgive your sins, and admit you

to gardens beneath which rivers flow and to beautiful mansions in Gardens of Eternity:

that is indeed the supreme achievement."

Except that God's goods are expensive; however, God's goods is Paradise.

Peace be upon you; your brother in God, Salah-ai-Din

Salah-al-Din Al-Maghribi [TN: The last name means; The Moroccan], do you remember him?

10. In the name of God, Most gracious, Most Merciful.

Praise be to Allah alone. God's prayer and peace upon the last Prophet, Mohamed, God's

prayer and peace be upon him and his companions.

My beloved brother in God! I beg and ask the Almighty God to unite us under his shade where there is no shade but save in His, that we go to heaven together by His mercy and to grant us the standing of martyrs; for praise be to Him, He is capable. My beloved brother,

It is known that the Messenger of God is out model and our premier example in this life and that his companions, may God be pleased with the, are the best example next to God's Messenger, God's prayer and peace be upon him. Let this be our insignia and let us try to make it a true living example in this futile time where

it became difficult to follow the example of the Messenger, God's prayer and peace upon him, and his noble companions. I seek refuge in God, the All Hearing and The All Knowing, from Satin. Mohamed and those who believed with him are merciful amongst themselves and intense against the infidels. You see them prostrating and praying hoping for the forgiveness and satisfaction from God. Their looks reflect their characters through the signs of prostration on their foreheads ... Just like the believers in the Torah and the New Testament. They are like a plant that emerged and stood straight [crossed out words] and its grower is admired by it so he can anger the infidels. God promised the believers and the ones who.do good deeds a great forgiveness and reward.

We will meet the beloved ones, Mohamed and his companions, tomorrow. The sorrow of my heart will not be eliminated until I get the good news of acceptance And see my book [Qur'an] on my right side and my eyes are blessed by the sight of the messenger [Mohamed]

Your loving brother, Abu-Dijana Al-Ansari, Afghanistan/ Khaldan.

4- "Abu-Dijana" from Egypt. Try to remember him. Hani.

Thursday, Dhu 1-Hijja 15, 1411 AH. Jun27 1991

11. In the name of God, Most gracious, Most Merciful.

God's prayer and peace upon our master, Mohamed, God's prayer and peace be upon him

and all his companions.

My brother in God, I love you in God; therefore I recommend you to worship God openly

and secretly, and to read the Holy Qur'an every day and to serve your brothers because it

is a trait of a martyr. I wish that God will unite us under the shade of His Throne on the

day where there is no Shade but His shade.

This is all I have and don't forget me in your prayers.

You brother in God, Abu-Al-Nasr.

12. In the name of God, Most gracious, Most Merciful.

Peace, God's mercy and blessings be upon you from your brother in the Almighty God and the one who loves you in God, Abu-Bilal Al-'Abbasi. I recommend to you and myself that you fear Almighty God, be at the required level in the battlefront, be firm with the enemies of God, humble with your brothers, be in attack position against God's enemies and not in the retreat position, and don't forget us in your prayers at the front. I

ask the Almighty God to grant you martyrdom as soon as possible and peace, God's

mercy and blessings be upon you.

[Signed]

Abu Bilal Al-'Abbasi.

Jul 3, Dhul-Hijja21,

Today is [crossed out word] Wednesday; I, rather, we the explosives group are in Gardez

now at the back line since last Friday.

Airplane shelling, and one of the shells landed in the heart of the camp; but praise God,

no on was injured.

Continuous artillery shells, digging ditches, carrying rocks from the mountain, dirt, sweat

and exhaustion; a true mental relaxation, God willing and oh God!

Note:

Because the right pen is not available, you find me writing in different pens and different

color every time. Dear Hani2, please accept my apology.

Right now, I don't possess one penny, rather, one Rupee, praise God, to buy a good pen.

But I night be able to get a good pen from one of the brothers, and oh Godl

Dhu 1-Hijja 25, Jul7,

Today is Sunday and the time now is perhaps 12:30 pm.

Place: The big tent which houses more than I5 people, I am one of them, at the back line

in Gardez front. The planes are hovering around us every now and then; they strike one

time and other times they don't; however the artillery shells are continuous and they

alternate the shelling.

Running to the ditches and face down on the ground, but I am relatively cool and don't

run to the dugout and don't even go face down on the ground sometimes; as a matter of

fact, I don't know why.

The important thing is that: oh God! We seek refuge in thee to spare us their evil and

make it reflected to their bosoms.

Although I sincerely ask God to grant me martyrdom, I even say, "I seek refuge with

God's perfect words from the mischief of the created things except for one thing that will

cause my martyrdom."

Hani

Dhu 1-Hijja 27,

Jul 9,

Today is Tuesday, approximately 12:35.

The messenger of God, may God's prayer be upon him, said:

God has granted the martyr six characteristics:

*He is absolved [of his sins] the minute he starts to bleed.

*Has a guaranteed seat in paradise

*Will be spared the tomb's torture.

*Would have the dress of faith.

*  Will be married to the divine nymphs, and

* Ask for forgiveness of seventy of his relatives.

That is a Hadith that I love a lot and truly, I don't know why I decided to write it to you Hani2! Also, ever since I came here, I don't mean Gardez rather here to Afghanistan, I have been listening to the stories of the brothers who are with me. Every one has a lengthy story specific to him, and each one of them came here as an emigrant sometimes they share a dark past and other times sharing white castles.

Yet, one thing unites them in addition to migration for Allah's cause; escaping reality, life after it turned all dark and full of sins and temptation, and even from the imprisonment.

Dear Hani, I will tell you few stories that some of their owners have told me in Khaldan

Camp or here in Gardez; just for the sake of memory.

First: "Faris Al-Jihad," a skinny tall guy, somewhat handsome, fair hair and beard, and he

is from Algeria. He is kind and he was working as a nurse or such at a military hospital, I

think, he called it the prison. He entered the field for family reason but he hated it. His

dream was; fortune, a car, a beautiful wife, a good monthly salary, an impressive home, a

cup of coffee, a cigarette, etc. ...

However, the circumstances were nothing like what he wished for. He tried business but

due to his inexperience and people's savageness, "foxes" as he says it, he lost and lost.

He tried one more time in Europe and still he lost.

He had a girlfriend, a hooker I believe; but, this time she was his dream girl. She became

close to him and he wanted her for a wife; but, once again nothing but failure that was

going after him until it almost chocked him.

He also tried commitment; committing to Islamic life, the mosques' life and the minarets

and it was the best for him.

It saved him from a heart attack, perhaps.

Then he left this hooker girl, rather, his dream girl, and for his feeling of the bitterness of failure, he cancelled all his dreams of fortune; money, car, wife, and the "Foofoo" life, as the Algerians call it.

Nothing was left but prostration at the mosque, few hours in prayers, his Qur'an, a cigarette and a cup of black coffee. Up to the last minute he was swayed by getting up there, where to, I don't know! Anyway, he committed while he was still trying. Then he left work at the military hospital, excuse me; "The Prison" as he calls it in his own memoirs. He is still trying, then he gave up, renounced worldly pleasures and came for jihad with me at Khaldan Camp first then to Gardez. He reads the Qur'an delightfully; sometimes he is quiet and other times he is talkative, he runs to the dug-out here in Gardez as soon as he hears the airplanes noise. He interrupts his prayer sometimes to run to the dug-out as soon as the plane begins hovering, yet he used to escape laughingly without fear in his heart, as it appears.

Amd ... Question: Had God opened up the doors for him, would he commit? Answer: By God, I believe 'Yes". Question: Would he be here? Answer: Only God knows, but, I don't think so.

Second: "Abu-Al-Bir" An athletic guy with a thick beard and light mustache. He practices Kong Fu and Manshaku and looks like a Chinese Karate trainer. He looks small in spite of his firm muscles, he moves his hands while talking as if he is having a Kong Fu show. He is from Algeria also; simple hearted, quiet and sometimes not so quiet. His story is somewhat sad. He used to work as a shoemaker, rather, he owns a shoe making machine that he operates. His middle brother is perhaps the only one who is committed; as for the rest of his brothers, we seek refuge with God!

One day he told me how he was oppressed in his family for being religiously committed and how he suffered from that.

His mother is in her forties and his father is in his seventies or eighties. The age difference was the barrier around which conflicts evolved in his house and his mind. Finally, he came to Afghanistan, to Khaldan Camp. There we met and then we got to know each other until the first course ended, the weapons course; he insisted on returning to Peshawar with a friend of his called 'Abd-al-Hannan, and from there to Kandahar or as he says, "The land of destruction and fire."

I have tried and so did others to change his mind; the explosives course is around the comer and it is the first so the preparation will be complete. Yet, he insisted on going to the battlefront; breakthroughs and fighting, as he tells me with passion. Yet, after being gone for a week in Peshawar, he returned to Khaldan. He returned with signs of fear [crossed out word] in his eyes and on his face. What happened? He told me what happened to him in Peshawar.

[crossed out word] It was determined that 'Abd-al-Hannan and him go to Peshawar and then to Kandahar to the battlefront with a third person. But, in Peshawar things went west; all of a sudden, 'Abd-al-Hannan and the third person decided to return to Algeria. But! The battlefront ... Jihad ... Kandahar. Continuous yelling, I was picturing it coming out of the heart of my friend; the green eyes Chinese, Abu-Al-Bir.

Also, Abu-Al-Hannan, may God forgive him, and the third person tried to convince Abu-Al-Bir to return with them by talking him into it, screaming, and getting angry. After a fierce battle with the devil, I think,

with those friends who broke the oath and with the broken soul which was wounded at

the homeland; Abu-al-Bir returned, but not to the homeland, not to Algeria, rather, he

returned to Afghanistan, to Khaldan.

He returned with his serene smile and strange gestures during conversations. We then

finished the explosives course, and right now we are in Gardez.

I only see him as Abu-Al-Bir; same quickness, nimbleness and briskness during the

exercise line-up. Now he runs to the dug-out laghing as if the plane is throughing cold

water, only.

My Dear Hani2,

When you remember Abu-Al-Bir one day, remember his conversation about 'Abbasi

Madani, the well known scholar in Algeria, and how he used to get so excited when

talking about that man and about Sheikh Kashak and his speeches.

Note: Abu-Al-Bir read what I wrote about him and he smiled; when I asked him, "Was I wrong?" He said, "No, it's correct."

Note 2:

A situation in which I forgot to tell you about Faris Al-Jihad; one day, the bombing was

in full swing then things calmed down, everyone returned from the dug-outs to the tent to

sleep and rest. Faris slept next to one of the brothers, Abu-Sirin. The latter told him, "If

you hear the airplane noise, wake me up so we both can escape to the dug-out.

Faris Al-Jihad replied, "No dear! When you realize that you have no cover, you should

know that I ran away to the dug-out and that's when you run after me" Jokingly of course.

Third: Salah-al-Din's true name is Nur-al-Din. He is 27 years old, maybe, from Morocco. He came to Afghanistan from America; he came from the land of temptation and enticement, he sold everything and came for jihad. He also has a story that is not strange maybe; but it is a story on its own and I will mention it to you.

I met him first time in Khaldan; the Moroccan guy with big smile, mustache, skinny, and pleasant sometimes. He used to call me "Idiot" jokingly, when I used to impersonate the preachers and the anchors, and he would laugh at that.

The story is as follows:

He is a Youngman who used to work in country of "Uncle Sam," America. I am not sure if the country of Uncle Sam is America or not? Anyway, as he said it, he is successful in his job as a manger of a store or something similar. His friends use to give him massages

at the store and the girlfriend was one of the reasons of mastering the English Language. He wasn't praying; if someone would advise him to pray, he would put his hand on his forehead and say, "This one will not touch the ground [in prostration] for no one," until the day when he become at the hump in jihad and Islam. He told me that one day a Moroccan friend came to me where I live and he always advised him to pray along with another guy from the Arab Peninsula who was kind hearted and kind in his approach. So, when it was time to pray, they went to pray and I was laughing. They prayed in the kitchen and I was having remorse; they are praying and I have this attitude. Few days later, I went to my friend after having a confrontation of the mind and soul; I asked him, "How do I perform ablution? And how do I pray?" and it was the first step to the mosque then true Islam then jihad after a committed life and somewhat conservative in America with committed and sensible youth.

He also told me about his private life and that American girl whom he was about to get married to. As they were on their way to the place were they would declare their marriage, suddenly something happened; which changed the whole plan, Salah-al-Din didn't explain how things have changed but he described to me how she began screaming and breaking everything that she could lay her hands on as she was begging him to give her the reason. I also asked him why? All he said was, "Believe me, I don't know!" Then, all of a sudden, he moved out of that city to another one in USA; it was a swift decision.

He moved to another job, another house, other committed friends and another life until he came to Afghanistan, Khaldan then Gardez.

Fourth:

Asadallah, the American, or 'Abd-al-Rahman 'Abd-al-Sabur as he called himself as soon as he became a Muslim; he declared himself a Muslim in America, I have talked to you about him earlier. Yet, my dear Hani2, I didn't talk to you in details about his story; which he told me with great excitement I don't know the reason behind it, we were going down the Zukiak Mountain at Khaldan Camp.

He told me about his early days in Islam; he believed in Islam at the hands of a group of

people wearing white turbans, according to him. He added that the white turban was what

drew his attention to them; because he saw, rather when he was little he used to see,

people wearing turbans on TV in cartoon shows; people wearing turbans and holding

magic lamps. Slowly, he became to know Islam and became a Muslim.

He told, "When I learned about Islam, I rushed to my atheist wife, whose parents are

Catholics and who hated every religion, I rushed to her and told her about Islam. She met

me with humiliation. Then there was a conflict followed by the divorce."

After that, his knowledge of Islam grew bigger and bigger and he began looking for a

Muslim woman.

During that time, his brother became a Muslim at his hands and with God's grace. He is now in land of jihad also and under the name Sayfallah.

Anyway, he told me that he was looking for a Muslim wife until he found a woman, he said that lives in the mountain and I didn't understand. He said he saw her and asked her, "Would you allow me to talk to you?" The meeting was at the sea shore. She told him later that the minute she saw him, she hoped that he would talk to her and you did. He said, "I talked to her for about three or four hours at the sea shore

about my desire to marry a Muslim woman and about Islam. So, she became a Muslim until the day came in and they got married. Then, it was his brother who convinced him for jihad. He accompanied her to Peshawar and left her there; and from a camp or front will return to her as visitor ... glory to God.

Fifth: "Qurbanallah;" from Tunisia, a young man, 37 or 38 years old, he doesn't look his age, he is dark skin, small built, relatively active, very talkative and he comments a lot. As for him, his story is actually strange or rather complicated and lengthy. He told it to me one day as I was sitting next to him during guarding duty outside a room by from Khaldan Camp's side and near a stable for horses and mules and which was the place where we sleep.

The story began in Tunisia. He used to live with "Voice of Palestine" radio station everyday. It was echoing in the room with speeches and sounds of swift gun shots coming out of a fire arm and that they used to prompt enthusiasm in his heart. Also, Palestine was a bleeding wound in his heart as a teenager, first and as young man second. Until one day, he decided to migrate to Lebanon and from there to Palestine; "carry out operations there." He was not a committed young man then, and God knows that he may not have known his God at that time. All it was; resentment, zeal and anger.

Anyhow, from one country to another until he ended in Syria on his way to Lebanon; in Syria, he was faced with the first and biggest problem in his life. To leave out the introduction, in his first week in Syria, the poor thing was taken by the vicious Syrian Intelligence. I didn't understand how it happened exactly, but he talked to a guy, who was dressed in raggedy clothes and dirty looking, who was talking angrily about the Syrian Ba'th Party and Hafez Al-Asad as to force him to admit that he is a God or something like that.

Anyway, the poor Qurbanallah was taken to jail; he was beaten, and disgraced without knowing why. Then [crossed out word] he was brought to the officer who charged him with the big offense "You are a Palestinian." When he said that he was from Tunisia, the officer showered him with punches and insulted him; "You son of ... don't lie to us. You are a son of ... Palestinian. Tell us what organization you work for?" Then from one jail to another and from one beast to another; Qurbanallah faced the worst kinds of torture at the hands of the beasts of Ba'th soldiers using brutal techniques until

he ended at an underground prison that had more than I00 prisoners; 75% of them are Palestinians whose bodies have been disfigured-

as a result of beating and torture. They were sleeping on top of each other and sharing a piece of bread and a bowl of lintel filled with dirt. The poor thing remained like this at the ground prison until the intelligence officers verified his identity, although he presented them with the papers that confirm his identity.

He was beaten, insulted, kicked with the feet, and fainted several times [crossed out word] from torture until the Tunisian ambassador came and confirmed his innocence of the charge put against him as a Palestinian. Then he was released without a word of apology from the Syrian officer in charge or the Tunisian Ambassador then, and he was supposed to leave within a week.

The poor left "Syria" hating it, then a new phase in his life began; the phase of struggling to make a living. So, from one country to another, from one ordeal to another, and from one job to another; one day he is starving and another day he eats from the strange land. He even told me that one day he was forced to hunt a crow at one of the public parks in one of the European countries. He cut it with a broken piece of glass and tried cooking it in a dirty pan; yet, useless, the crow meat doesn't cook, he is fading from hunger and the cold weather is pounding his frail body.

Thus, God opened up doors for him and he settled on a job in one of the European countries; I believe it was Austria. There, he became fully committed; yet, he was being challenged by the devil until God guided him and he committed to his true religion [Islam]. Then, he met an [crossed out words] Austrian girl and he married her; she is a Christian and he is a Muslim. He lived with her for a good period of time, happily and comfortably. According to him, she was doing her best to please him and they had a beautiful girl together. At this point he insisted that his wife act on her promise and study Islam. Problems started because she hates religions and he [crossed out word] wants a Muslim wife and mother to his daughter. So disagreements began, then divorce and then the court that [crossed out word] ruled for the mother's right to have custody of the daughter.

So, he was forced to leave the wife and the daughter. He migrated from here to there and finally he arrived at the Land of Jihad. When I first met him at Khaldan, I judged him to be an experienced man, talks a lot about many things and imprudent; you feel that he is an attorney or a prosecutor. He likes joking and doesn't like it, loves everyone and doesn't love them and somewhat kind hearted.

He has a strong idea about the "need to fight and launch war against the enemy" and he believed in it. But that was at the time when he left his country to join the fighter factions

of the Palestinian Organization. His idea was; war, Arabism, honor, zeal, anger, and other similar things.

After he traveled to more than 20 countries in the world and committed to his religion; the idea became clearer and he began separating between the tribal/nationalistic war and jihad. He had the seed planted in him but its direction was not correct until he found the way and rushed to join in Afghanistan and perform jihad for Allah's cause. With that, there are many things that are similar to what I myself used to think about. The need for war and fighting, but at an Arab nationalism level, a fake one, a zeal that is not directed and misleading emotion; until I realized the truth and that it has to be a war at a Islamic level strictly that will lift the words of "There is no God but Allah," and being partial to Islam not to Arabism or a nationalism that is meaningless. Also, there has to be a zeal for the religion and its dignity as well as pure Islamic passion; so praise be to God! Oh God!

Note: this story is in accordance to what he told me; but only God knows the truth, I don't believe some of its parts as he told them, perhaps he might have exaggerated.

Dhu 1-Hijja 29,

July 11,

Yesterday, few rocket shells were aimed at the camp and resulted in huge explosions that shook the hearts and prayers to God increased and Him for rescue. Faris Al-Jihad, the one I have told you about previously, is the first to run to the dug-out as soon as he hears the rumbling of the airplanes, he is the most hateful and fearful of the missiles, he is most conscious person in the camp; he constantly takes necessary and unnecessary precautions protecting from debris or the effect of the explosions. Yesterday, Wednesday, when we were performing ablution for prayer, a guided missile . exploded inside the camp and produced a very loud boom sound and a lot of debris. Faris Al-Jihad was hit by a small fragment in his left shoulder. We gave him the necessary first aid, although we didn't know how and he was transferred quickly to the nearest center to save him and remove the debris from his shoulder.

Praise be to God, truly being careful doesn't save you from your destiny.

Today is Thursday and the time now is 12:00 pm. Nothing happened but few airplanes were flying by so fast and throwing some bombs; big explosions that are not very far from the camp, face down, hiding in the dug-out and supplication and we seek refuge in God. Goodbye my dear Hani2.

Dhu 1-Hijja 29, July 11,

[TN: crossed out words and a drawing]

July 13,

Muharram 2, 1412 AH,

Lamented are my fate and my days

I found none who tried to rush to my rescue

Time has been antagonistic to me; even the person I have offered myself to

Has deprived me of basic necessities

And sold me for the cheapest price

I have always been his helper in any calamity

I lament those I thought would support me

Someone whom I thought would rush to my aid

He made me swallow the biter sadness

And I feel its blaze in my throat and from within

What shall I tell him and the flame is inside of me?

Should I say: my own son is the one who inflicted pain on me!

Should I say: my sorrow and sadness have been caused by him!

As he made me the talk of the rascals

That is too much; however, I will wait for him

Even if all who are envious of me will gloat over this

He is my son and he will definitely return

And he will know that obeying me is the best Jihad

This was the ending of the letter that my sister Wafas' sent me; it is coming from my

mother.

The letter consisted of tears in red ink that my mother sent me along with a plastic box

that has Ma'mul [TN: Middle Eastern pastries stuffed with nuts] in it which I love. She

then concluded the letter with this poem that is puzzling me; where did she find these

words that seem to be written specifically for me.

Anyway, the letter is very depressing but, I seek refuge in God and will throw it in the

fire, God willing, so I don't read it again.

Hani

His Almighty God said, "Say: If it be that your fathers, your sons, your brothers, your mates, or your kindred; the wealth that ye have gained; the commerce in which ye fear a decline; or the dwellings in which ye delight - Are dearer to you than Allah, or His Messenger or the striving in His cause - then wait until Allah brings about His decision: and Allah guide not the rebellious." This is verse 24 of Al-Tawbah Surah.

-> This will be the answer to my mother's letter, God willing; but, perhaps I might add a phrase or two. [TN: crossed out words at the bottom and they are illegible].

Today is Wednesday.

I don't know the date; the calendar pages are all used up and I don't know where to get

another one, oh my Godl

Anyway, it is Wednesday, July/Muharram; 1991 AD/1412 AH.

Nothing new so far, it is the same; shelling by air and nothing ...

The work is almost done here and we have nothing to do but pray, mentioning God's

name, eating and going to the bathroom.

And they are all [IL] of our jobs as stationed individuals, God willing.

Anyway, we might move to the first line within a short period and we seek refuge in God.

Hani

Today is Thursday and I don't know the date; neither the Islamic calendar nor the Georgian calendar.

Anyway, following the dawn prior directly, we headed to the frontline today. The car took us to the area where the car couldn't proceed any further. Then we walked the remaining distance; however, we kept distance between us so that the enemy would not notice or advancement. We were very careful. Now we are at the frontline facing the enemy, and we seek refuge in God.

Note: Today is Friday. We are not at the frontline exactly, as I was expecting; we are at the secondary frontline. Although the enemies positions can be seen with the naked eye and its movements can be observed by a telescope, yet, there is still a point in the front that is exposed completely to the enemy; it is considered the main frontline at the battle front.

Yesterday, I had guarding duty with another person at one of the openings from the building or the destroyed buildings which we took as a place to position ourselves during that hour; from 1:00 to 2:00 pm. The shelling and bullets didn't stop sounding everywhere and the yelling. The enemy is combing the area for fear of infiltration; so, praise be to God!

Today is Friday.

Dear Hani,

Do you know? There is something; an important matter, that I have never felt the need

for, I didn't think of it although it is important for me: it is the faithful friend. I was

looking for one for a long time and even before I came here to Afghanistan, do you

remember that?

Up till now, I haven't [crossed out word] found myself with a person, and every time I

tell myself that I found him; my life friend, the faithful friend, the one who is sincere to

me ands the one I can be with continuously; I realize, also as usual, that I am wrong and

that we both are not fit for each other as a permanent friend or a companion that you open

up to and he does the same.

At the beginning, in Khaldan, I found too Moroccan guys but soon they got tired of the

camp and went to Peshawar and after that I have no news. Later on came news, bad news

about them and their morals. I wasn't very comfortable because of much joking and

kidding around when they were here, but we were inseparable even at guarding

sometimes.

Anyway, they left and there was Faris Al-Jihad and quickly we became very close friends;

he opened up to me and so

I did with him, until we came to Gardez. This time around, his mattress was far from

mine and not like in Khaldan; next to each other.

In Gardez, I felt that we were busy; no time for each other, and actually it was the case.

We only said hello to each other and nothing else. Now I am in the secondary frontline

and he is at the backline and he might catch up to us in few days and perhaps tomorrow.

Anyway, I am still lonely in spite of the many people around me. I like all of them and

they like me despite insignificant difference in ideas, treatment, approach and other

things; however, we are all united in everything.

Anyway, once again, I am still lonely and looking for a friend; a friend that is other than

you, Hani2! Another friend who is not you but just like you; one who will bear with me

and I will bear with him, truly understand me and I truly understand him, [crossed out

word] doesn't leave me and I don't leave him and just like you in everything but tangible

and imaginary. I have searched, still searching and will search!

But, I don't believe that I will find a person with such characteristics except for you;

Hani2, so, when will we, you and I, meet? Although that it is impossible and I know; but

I have the right to wish for and dream even if the dreams were logically impossible.

Hani.

Today is Sunday.

Dear Hani2,

What did I talk to you about last Friday? Do you remember the issue of friendship? Do

not optimistic and believe that I found what I was looking for; I just wanted to talk to you

about a similar subject.

Najm-al-Din, the explosives trainer, whom we spent a fairly long period of time with at

Khaldan Camp; the exercise line-up and the lessons in explosives, mines and bombs, my

impression of him was that he is a harsh guy who jokes sometimes but he is rough, as

tough as his arm and chest muscles. He doesn't respect his trainees as required and so on.

But, I sat with him yesterday for a long time, the entire siesta period; I changed my view

of him completely.

He suggested that I show him what I know about computer because it is helpful for

military surveying.

Anyway, we sat and talked about programming in "Basic" language for few seconds. Then the course of the conversation changed and he opened up; he was somewhat tired of the temporary leadership responsibility of the current camp, the secondary frontline, until Abu-Binan, the original leader comes. Subconsciously, or maybe he meant it, he told me about himself

in all honesty. Then, the meeting ended; it was interrupted by four BM shells not far from us. Some debris were scattered around us, he laughed and praise be to God, we returned to work at the camp; but my opinion of him changed completely. Although I sat with him frequently and we talked and joked; however, our conversation was with intermittent dry jokes. But yesterday, I discovered that Najm-al-Din is a very sensitive human being; his feelings are delicate and transparent, extremely polite as if he were a shy young man.

He told me about his life and how began working in steel and prefabricated construction or something similar, since he was at the age of eighteen. He loved his work and was creative and made designs of things he loved. Thus since he was eighteen, he was giving his monthly income to his father and he will give him his allowance and buy him clothes and such. This was his life until he turned 25, he wasn't feeling any stress or embarrassment, and then the mosque group and the annual group trips came into play until the idea of jihad appeared.

He was a committed young man all along; he wasn't into nonsense or messing around. Then it was the speeches at the mosques, video tapes and the friends until he was convinced of the jihad idea; so, he decided to move and since then he stopped giving the monthly income to his parents, why [The parents as], a project, a project was his answer until he saved the required amount for the air fare and he came here two years ago. He also told me about some situations that he had been through which reflected his gentleness and sensitive.

Today is Monday. Abu-Binan, the emir, came. Sorry, I had to interrupt my conversation with you yesterday because Abu-Binan, the emir, gave orders to me and another person, Jamal-al-Din, to go to the backline where we were first, "City Kando" as it is called. And he gave us instructions [IL] or what he calls himself, to carry out a simple assignment. So went there on foot and we returned by car half-way, we then continued carrying stuff to here, the secondary frontline.

Today, I will talk to you about Najm-al-Din.

Sorry, Today is Tuesday.

Excuse me once again, continuous work that is keeping me from you my dear Hani2; but,

God willing, I will finish up today.

The last thing I told you about Najm-al-Din is that he talked to me about some situations he went through that exhibited his delicate feeling and that he is very sensitive. The last situation was when he was distributing fruit to us after dinner; he asked a person sitting far away to take his share of the delicious fruit but the other person waved his hand carelessly and turned his face away. Najm did nothing but smiled, though, he told me that he is still thinking about this incident; he even couldn't fall asleep one night thinking about it, praise be to God.

Now we are working here together as if I am with a different Najm-al-Din than the one I knew before. A completely different Najm-al-Din, and from that I learned not to judge anyone by their appearance and that the tongue is the key to the person's secrets and writings like mine here will expose my secrets and [IL]. And peace be upon you.

Today/ Sunday

Yesterday, the Communist Forces advanced to the Mujahideen positions; A sweeping

attack by artillery and heavy weapons, but thank God, nothing happened.

What happened was a minor chaos and then two persons from the advanced divisions, in

the direction of the enemy's centers, came to us asking some of our mujahideen to help

them in guarding.

So, it was I and two from Algeria who went to guard and there were five men, simple

weapons and an old man whom I loved, I don't know why. We helped them with the

guarding and we returned today. Nothing to be said except for; [crossed out word]

unconfirmed news about a sweeping attack and advancement that the enemy will carry

out, and we seek refuge from God.

Hani1.

Today is Monday. Safar2, 1412 AH August 12, 1991 AD.

Perhaps more than a week since the last day i wrote to you my dear Hani2.

Anyway, I have received or was able to obtain a calendar for the New Year; therefore and

with God's grace, I can write down the date. However, the right type pens didn't arrive

and that's why I write to you in a different pen every time; sorry about that.

There is nothing important I can talk to you about except that winter is around the corner

or at least, it seems like it; despite that this month is usually hot. Yet, here in Gardez, the

weather is different; during the cold months, the snow accumulates on the ground up to

two or three meters high, and we seek refuge in God.

One more thing, the leaders of jihad are about to arrive here to begin the military operations and a widespread attack or resisting the enemy. However, nothing as of yet but waiting, surveillance and be on the look out. And oh God! Hani

[TN: The page begins crossed out words. HaniI writes down "excuse me" as if he is apologizing for the scribbles he made].

Safar 11, 1412 AH, August 21, 1991 AD.

Today: Wednesday.

Dear Hani,

I'm having an intense feeling that is affecting my mental strain; there is no reason and no specific problem. However, I don't know exactly what is going on! Maybe it is the friend that I am still in search for and a sudden feeling of depression came upon me, and nothing but OH!

Also, Love whomever you choose for you are going to separate. Today I will be separated from one of the friends; he will go to Peshawar and might not come back, and praise be to God!

Safar 14/August 24.

Today is Saturday, the time is 12 noon.

Nothing specific to talk to you about my dear Hani2 except; a tiny bulge in my belly that made me decide that I will not eat dinner as of today.

Although the work here is hard at times and other times there is no work at all; however, there is waiting and positioning until the days of attacks against the enemy centers "Posts".

Therefore, the system is food and work or reading and surveillance; and because there is no exercises like the morning line-up, for example, or specific exercises in addition to rice which I never ate before until I came here, because; I didn't like it and don't like any cooked food. So rice is an efficient factor for developing a belly. Due to all of the above, my belly began to bulge more and more and it has to be controlled immediately; because I hate bellies. So, the decision, after God's will, is that: I swear by the almighty God not to eat dinner here as of this day, except for fruit or in case of fasting on Monday and Thursday, of the week or if I need to have it provided that I don't over eat.

That is for two months from now and until I see the result; in addition to some special exercises, and the punishment is:

If I eat accidentally, I will fast the following day.

If I eat carelessly, I will fat the following three days. I ask God that this will not be considered as "Why holdest thou to be forbidden that which Allah has made lawful to thee," rather it is some type of self-training and to protect the body from becoming flabby and lazy. And we seek refuge in God for that.

Note: Two months from now will be Rabi'Al-Thani 13, 1412 AH/October 20, 1991 AD.

And I exempt special occasions from the decision I have stated; so that I don't embarrass

anyone and vise versa, and we seek refuge in God.

Hani

[Signature]

Safar-14

August 27, Safar 17,

Dear Hani2,

A pleasant and suffocated greeting, that I have no one to give it to but you.

Do you my dear Hani that sometimes I experience strange feelings; for moments I wish

that I have a wife and children and the word "Papa." Don't laugh at me, I am laughing at

myself now; a chocked laugh. Excuse me, choked doesn't mean anything in particular;

thank God I am doing fine with God's grace.

But [crossed out word] moments pass by and wafts go through my memory and thoughts;

they remind me, burn me once and once do nothing. Some different situations and

different discrepancies that blow out hot exhale from deep inside and oh; yet, soon

enough they pass through.

Anyway, the momentary affection that I get every once in a while for a good wife and a

child, a son for me, my own son; [crossed out word] play with him, be kind to him and

even spank him. Yes! Spank him, why not?

That type of affection, I often experience it as a passing impulse

and sometimes it feels as a nightmare and a devilish fever that deprive me from sleep; makes my day similar to a sad Indian movie, and praise be to God; I sometimes experience it a s a beautiful dream, I smile at it deeply and eagerly; in addition to other similar things.

Then, I come back to say, "My God! I swear that I am yearning to see Your fine face, what You have and for martyrdom," Oh, God! A martyrdom that is sooner than later. In spite of my yearning for sooner martyrdom, yet it is the truth that I am not denying; I am longing to a good wife, a small house, a child and the word "Papa." But I leave this to

God and to God only and I don't care for it, and oh God! My compensation in You. Oh

God!

Hani

Wednesday: August 28, Safar 18,

Dear Hani,

Only yesterday I talked to you about a wife, a child and the word Papa. Praise God, today

a group came to visit our site and there was a child among them. Perhaps he is about the

age of my brother Sultan. My brother now is a cute child, his father is mujahid that was in

America and he left it to come for jihad; he is Palestinian originally and his wife is an

American.

Anyway, it is the little one that I felt excited to see, I don't know why! Quickly I greeted him and kissed him eagerly. Besides, the machinegun he was holding makes his appearance even more beautiful. He is walking in feeling a bit heavy. I could only watch him and the emotion almost swarming out of my chest and choking me. I truly don't know whom do I see in this child, Adam, that is his name; do I see Sultan in him? My brother whom I almost cry longing to him or do I see my child in him, the one whom I wish is next to me and I that am playing with him and breathe the fatherly love that I feel, in him.

Or do I simply see in him a beautiful little kid and I love him for his childhood? I don't

know exactly and I don't want to know. The short of it is that this kid had wiped off the

tiredness and exhaustion feeling I had, from digging a dug-out, few minutes before I saw

him this morning.

There is nothing else, bye, Hani2!

[Signature]

* Thursday, August 29, 199IAD Safar 19, 1412 AH

Yesterday was a spectacular day with the Adam, little one; as if he is my brother Sultan. But today they are supposed to leave; he left sad as he was clinging onto me. Yet, he left and I am hurt for his departure; but we seek refuge in God, and no other important things.

September 2, 1991 AD

Safar 23, 1412AH

Wednesday, I beg your pardon: today is "Monday".

The time is probably 6:00 pm.

And I feel a little bit of fever, a headache and complete failure; but, a cold shower was a

good idea and now I am, thank God.

Anyway, this is not why I decided to talk to you today, my dear Hani2. However, I found

myself telling you without meaning to. The actual introduction I am about to finish

preparing it; at a short distance from the enemy's "posts," meaning its fortified sites, and

we seek refuge in God.

Once again, this is not the topic; yet; the truth is, I don't know what to tell you except that

I need to talk to you. Therefore, you find me writing regardless of what I write to you.

Do you know that I miss my mother a lot, although, I don't remember her or my dad

much. I don't know why. Even sometimes I realize that I don't pray for her as I should;

honestly, I don't know the kind of a heart I carry inside of me.

Nevertheless, I miss my mother's smile, my father's laugh, the yelling of my younger

siblings, and the look of my sisters sitting at their study desk or arguing or kidding

around as innocent little children; although, they are at the ages that qualify them as

mothers. I also miss eating from my mother's cooking.

All the years I have been with my family, I have been deprived eating with them a good

bite; I always ate my food alone simply because, rather, it is silly that I only eat particular

foods. I eat grilled or fried foods or preserved and canned foods, leaving all cooked meals

and cooked meats and such.

Now, things have changed; ever since I came to Afghanistan, I have been eating any food

and do not discriminate between foods; I like everything.

However, where is my mother's food and my mother's cooking! Truly, I miss it quite a

lot and I don't know why I wish to eat some of her cooking, just for once; not that I am

hungry, edacious or such; but a type of compensation or a feeling that I have neglected

her by not eating a full meal that she cooked, as far as I can remember.

I get the same feeling when someone mentions Hajj in front of me. To be in the Arab Peninsula yet I don't perform the Hajj duty; Holy Mecca is not too far from me, it is a tough thing! People all over the world are yearning to visit The Kaa'ba [TN: It is a cubical shaped structure in the middle of the Holy Sanctuary in Mecca] though, I am close from it and I don't visit it; which is quite a nerve!

My dear Hani2, in both cases; eating my mother's cooking and performing the Hajj duty or, at least, performing 'Amrah [TN: Minor Hajj] you find me, every once in while, experiencing feelings of regret, remorse and negligence.

I only ask God for forgiveness; life closed my eyes and was unable to see my way until God guided me and I was graced with jihad.

Praise be to God, and we seek refuge in Him; Oh God!

Hani.

Today is Friday Safar 27 * Sep 6.

I am still looking for a friend and I don't find the person that I can understand him and he

can understand me completely.

Yesterday, I dreamt, I saw in my dream, Amin Al-Jamil, do you remember him? My first

friend at the first time I came here and my friend or my companion in India.

In my dream, he was with me in Afghanistan; he talked to about something or a specific

incident, I don't recall it or I didn't understand what it was, that made him come here.

I am very happy to see him. However, too many things happening and intertwining in

that dream; wild pigeon, better yet, a duck in the color of dirt that I caught and a colorful

parrot that I caught as well and that's it.

I woke up happy not knowing what my busy dream meant; but, seeing Amin reminded

me of him and wish for his presence or wish that he is a friend in this beautiful path of

jihad. Oh God!

Monday,

Rabi' al-Awwal 8,

Sep 16,

Today as well as yesterday, few artillery bombs hit our camp, rather, they hit our camping center. Yesterday, the planes hovered and this morning they threw cluster bombs at us. Yet, praise be to God; nothing happened. Thus, few hours from now, at five o'clock, the enemy sent some artillery and mortar shells our way; but this time around, a person was injured. He is Abu-Sulayman, the Palestinian, do you remember him dear Hani2? The poor guy was studying in India as well; yet, originally, he is a resident of the United Arab Emirates; he left his family, studies and came for jihad. Also, he, other brothers and I were helping our emir Abu-Binan since yesterday. We were digging a trench in the mountain or the little hill, the one overlooking or the one obscuring our location from the Communist enemy. Later, everyone ate their lunches While I rested a little bit because I was fasting then we returned to work. Suddenly and without introduction, the shelling and explosions started-

Then suffocated voice repeating, "God is Great." It was Abu-Sulayman. He was repeating it as his skinny body was bleeding; he was injured!

His injury was serious; the tank's shell exploded next to him and his left hip and the left

side of his stomach were hit by small debris that came out of his back, as well as a

substantial injury that almost cut his left hand, but God had saved him.

The brothers and I helped him and gave him first aid although everyone here knows

nothing about it; however, God saved him and we did all we could do.

His injury was visible; the poor guy bled a lot before we moved him, with the help of two

Afghani brothers near us, to a deserted village where a car can reach it to carry him to the

nearest emergency center.

Because his wounds are visible, the hole in his hand exposed his bones and his slashed

veins, some where moved by the scene and cried; also, his words were sad and touching.

He was saying God is Great, he was praising God, and he was stating his wishes in the

event he is dead; all around him were crying, and all I could comment with was: praise be

to God for everything and God willing is fine and we seek refuge in God.

[Signature of Abu-Zubaydah].

Rabi' Al-Awwal, 9 Sep 17,

Today is Tuesday, the time is probably 7:00 pm and the place is this small room where I sleep along with three other brothers; two of them from Algeria, one from Egypt and I am from Palestine or from Saudi Arabia or from India, as some of them like to comment sometimes. Of course things do not stay the same in the room; normally, my roommates will change while I have been in it since I arrived here in Gardez; the secondary first line. Anyway, we concluded the afternoon and evening prayer communally and collectively (together and ahead of time) and everyone waited inside the trench for the dinner while I slipped out to my room, as usual, to pray a little bit [crossed out words] without eating dinner as I have decided earlier. Then I lay in bed or on the sleeping bag so I can fall into a deep and serene sleep that I don't wake up from except to [crossed out word] hear "Abu-Zubaydah! Wake up my brother for guarding." So, I wake up quickly to get dressed and put a weatherproof jacket, and then I carry my weapon the R.B.K. which is an enhance Kalashnikov or a little bit heavier. I have traded my original weapon for it with one of the brother.

Anyway, I carry my weapon and I perform guarding duty for an hour or an hour and a

half based on the instant, time and place which the emir determines.

Then I wake up the guard who comes after me, Wake up my brother! It is your guarding

duty time." I then pray two prostrations and one Witr prostration. After that, I go in a

deep sleep that is very cold due to the cold weather, various dreams that are intermingled

sometimes until it is the dawn prayer time.

After I finish praying, I ask for God's forgiveness and read the morning praise of Allah

[TN: A Sufi ritual consisting of the repetition of words in praise of God] then 1 take a hot

shower then I go to the toilet.

After that I sit next to the burning fire to prepare tea and breakfast covering myself in my clothes sometimes shivering from the cold.

Then, Abu-Al-Muhannad and Abu-Al-Qasim, my dear Hani2 do you remember this person's original name, Abu-Al-Muhannad is the one in charge of the kitchen and food preparation; he warms up the dinner or whatever is left from it and warms up a loaf of bread. So I eat my food as an alternative to dinner because I eat it in the morning and sit by the burning wood exchange conversation

with Abu-al-Muhannad until the brothers, who went back to sleep after the Morning

Prayer, wake up.

Breakfast for them, and sometimes for me as well, with tea. All gather at the designated

location and we eat our food [crossed out out] quietly and jokingly in spite of the shells

that are falling near our camp, left and right.

And, "Look were it exploded," "That is a mortar shell," No dear; it is B.M." "Perhaps it

is a tank," "Listen, they will launch one now," and "Oh! There is God," in addition to

various supplications uttered by some of them: "Oh God! You deal with them as You

please," "I suffice with God, and who is a better Guardian."

After that will be the constructing and digging of a trench; provided there is a job and so

until the Afternoon and Evening Prayers and the same thing again.

It is 7:30, perhaps. I beg your pardon; it is 8:00 and I am sure this time. Because I am

alone in the room until the brothers are done eating dinner, I preferred to talk to you

before I go to bed; so, I wrote what I wrote without controlling the pen, as if it writing on

its own. So, excuse so excuse me and goodbye!

Hani.

Friday; September 20,

Rabi' Al-Awwal 12,

Dear Hani2,

It seems that the mujahideen had finally decided to begin working. Since yesterday and

the news we're receiving from the Mujahideen state that the artillery will begin working

for a period of attrition, intimidation, confusion and destroying the enemy followed by

attack and direct breaking through and from a close distance with Kalashnikov and Bika;

face to face attacking the posts which are the enemy's fortified positions. We seek refuge

in God.

Dear Hani2, the trials are around the corner and I ask God for martyrdom; sooner not

later while attacking and not escaping. I call upon His mercy not to allow an injury that

doesn't take my life away as a martyr immediately. I also seek refuge in Him not to

become a prisoner, handicapped or be turned away for jihad in His cause; however, God

will do what He chooses to do.

So, if we are victorious, God willing, and I am not among the ones that God selected to

go to Him; the decision, God willing, is the following:

With God's permission. I will stay at the frontier or at the battlefronts for this year until there is a new course next year at "Camp Echo." Then, God willing, I will join (the course) because of what I have learnt about its benefit; military survey and retaking the weapons and explosives in a better and more meaningful way now that I understand the situation better. Also, a course in the manufacturing of explosives in addition to good strenuous physical training during this year and within the frontiers not in the camps or in Peshawar. I have to do the following:

-- Try to memorize the entire Holy Qura'n, God willing.

-- Maintain fasting on Mondays, Thursdays and the White Days"

-- A serious attempt to raise my body's physical fitness level by doing daily simple exercises such as; pus-ups and hips exercises. In additions to two NOs; no dinner and no sleeping after dawn [prayer] which are the things that are dictated by the guarding and camping situation in the battle field until the zero hour or the raid.

So, my dear Hani2; I ask God for nothing but to help me achieve my decisions, in the event I sty alive, in this miserable world, until next year when the military course begin. Although, martyrdom is the hands of Almighty God and God knows it is the most important and significant thing I am looking for [crossed out words] anything less is null.

Yet, Only God knows about the fate. Will? Perhaps; but!! Why? Many questions that

God Only has the answers to them, He knows what is hidden. So, if I stay in the at the

frontiers for the next year, will I do what I have decided or circumstances, rather, fate

will come between me and what I decide?

So, will? Perhaps, but and why?

And oh God!

[Signed]

Abu-Zubaydah (Hani)

3/12

1412AH

Friday

Rabi'al-Awwal 19, 1412 AH

Sep 27, 1991 AD

The time is [crossed out word]

2:40 pm.

Dear Hani2,

The weather outside, outside the room, is wonderful. Since two days, the clouds are masking the sun and the moon. We even had light rain, drizzle and strong heavy rain and

mud; however, the weather is very refreshing. It is cold somewhat, light wind comes and goes quickly to leave the weather as not sunny, not rainy, not hot, and not cold. The green tree leaves are turning yellow and red then they fall announcing the fall season; the best season to my heart, I don't know why despite the fact that most people don't like it and prefer spring.

[TN: The page has hand drawn pictures on it; one depicts a hand with finger nails that look like claws and the other on is a flower. Above the flower the name "Hani1" is written].

But I love it madly.

Anyway, the autumn, in return is declaring a fierce winter is ahead of us And great amounts of snow that might reach four meters. This is in "Gardez". Anyway," it is "autumn" one more time. The weather makes me feel refreshed and happy, so I see myself as a dreamer, transparent, empty from everything. I put my hands in my coat pockets and walk slowly only to receive the cold mist and the air breeze mixed with the scent of rain on the ground, and it is a scent that I like. It puts a spell on me until I am almost able to hold some dust mixed with rain water and smell it continuously, just like the people do with roses emitting amazing scents and the scent of the oily cologne that the brothers use here. I found out that it has an awesome impact on me. In the morning after the dusk prayers. I sit down next to the Fire, embracing myself. it's not sunrise, yet, and I smell the aromatic smell on my right hand -- and the scent of the wet wood logs as they burn -- even though it's wet. And the scent that is more experienced in playing with my feelings in a strong, professional way -- the scent of the ground and the rain water.

So I cannot, but breathe in the collection of scents, violently, deeply and strongly.

I breathe in to the capacity of my lungs.

I breathe in till drunkenness.

And I breathe and I breathe and I breathe.

Hani1

7/19 H.H.G.G

Always searching for you running after your shadow and the mirage.

Searching for himself through you "through himself and the surreal and through it.

Your only friend apart from you. Who has nobody in this nasty world except God, his lord

Your friend. Who does not know you, except through a pen and a sheet of paper.

And illusion

Your friend

Hani

The day is: Thursday \

3 - Rabi' Al-Thani - 1412 AH 10-October - 1991 AD

And dear Hani2 ... A scented greeting and:

First\ Sorry for not communicating with you for about two weeks.

But ... truth being told ... I had no chance to meet you

through this notebook because both of us -- myself and the notebook -- were in two

different places ... And here is the story from the beginning: meaning two weeks ago

to my best knowledge and understanding:

-- Everything was as it was -- The place: "Najm-al-Din Center"

And we are waiting for the complete offensive, as the Afghans call it

And ... suddenly everything started, and without the least amount of "verbal

introduction" ...

Suddenly, the Mujahidin moved to the front lines which they started to prepare

a short while ago -- and we were placed with one of these groups.

The Afghans moved and our group moved from our location and along with them

And quickly everything was accomplished, and the weapons and ammunition were

transferred even though the place is dangerous and was being hit by artillery in addition

to firearms "with Zkuyak-Dimitrov" which used to cross over our heads if we were to

make an unstudied move ...

And quickly also ... The second step was: The Mujahidin moved

from the other direction -- against the common enemy -- and they were able

to control some of the enemy positions "posts" on the first line or the enemy's security

belt around the city ...

Then ... news about martyrs and individuals whose legs were cut off

because of the land mines that the enemy plants around its posts ... and

when the time came ... the Afghani Mujahidin moved from our location and our

group moved, and the enemy "fled", escaping and leaving its posts surrounded by land

mines ...

And it resulted in the post being taken by the Mujahidin, by the grace of God, with

much ease ... and ... one of the brothers from our center "Abu 'Ubadah" stepped on

a land mine disk ... so his left leg was blown away from the heels ... in addition to

his other injuries ...

Then ... "Najm-al-Din ... Al-Jaza'iri" ... dismantled a decent amount of land mines

around the "post". Until destiny spoke and the explosives and land mines trainer steps on

a planted land mine and ... his left leg flies away, also from the top of the heels and with

it flies his huge and thick shoe.

Then the injured two were transferred to the nearest center to aid them ... and I

and I "could not believe that even "Abu 'Ubadah ... and ... "Najm-al-Din"

have lost their ... feet ... But I say nothing except ... glory to God ...

Then ... later on, the news broke in:

"Najm-al-Din" is in good shape and he is now in a good condition and his spirit is high

even though he seemed to be in a terrible shape when he got injured

As for "Abu Ubada" ... who seemed alright, in spite of his injury, his condition has

deteriorated and he is still completely unconscious and God only knows his condition and

his destiny ...

A Day later ...

"Abu-Binan" came over ... He re-organized the group and distributed the responsibilities

among the individuals ... This one carries the "R.B.J." [R.P.G.] with its special vest

and that one carries this other weapon, and this ... and that ...

As for me ... I carried the "light Krinov" or what we used to call "the Bika" ...

Then everyone got moving, and we were about 20 individuals ...

And we walked in a certain path behind "Abu-Binan" to catch up with a group of

Afghani Mujahidin whom we work with to coordinate the work ...

So we spent that night in one of the "posts" that was open for the Mujahidin until evening

time the other day when great numbers of Afghans from "all shapes and colors" moved

and from

the other Mujahidin from "different nationalities" and from Arabs and we were

part of them. Everyone moved towards the city in a fast and unorganized pace.

Everyone was carrying his weapon on his back and running towards the city,

In addition to the posts surrounding it.

And in an unbelievable manner, and amazing speed, the Mujahidin have

reached the gates of the city that was fortified with more than three security belts,

each of which had "so many" posts and every post had lots of weapons and ammunition ...

And in spite of the great bombardment, the flying bullets and the land mines which would

have sent an individual a few meters in the air and severed his legs once he stepped on ...

that is if he would not die instantaneously from being torn apart by the land mine.

Anyway ... in spite of all this and that and after the long run across the trees, tall grass

and across the water stream ... we fall to the ground sometimes and crawl some other

times and we walk normally some other times ... and everybody has his heavy weapon on

his back and his tongue does not stop calling upon God.

And after all this: we reached ... "the group of Abu-Binan ... and some individuals from the

Afghani group that we work with" to a small village that is almost deserted from its

inhabitants at the edge of the city ...

The farthest point we could reach at the moment until we see what can be done.

One of the leaders among us went to knock on the door of one of the houses in the

village

and after a short conversation that was emotionally charged and full of screaming,

the owner of the house opened the door for us, and we all entered into his house,

cautiously and quickly, "Abu-Binan had kept a few of us in the back by the front point of

the Mujahidin Group's launching spot, and he took a small group, perhaps ten

individuals and five Afghans who were chosen by their leader"

Anyway, the 15 individuals entered the home with the weapons, their shoes and the

noise that accompanied their entry and the barking of the dogs which was not

interrupted even for a moment while we were there.

In addition to the sounds of continuous explosions outside

So, as soon as we went into the house, the place was filled with screaming and the

weeping of the women inside and the head of the house, the old man leads us into an

interior room inside to sit down.

Everyone was fearful, so the Afghani leader calmed him by saying that all we need is

"bread, a glass of tea and water, only", and that we will neither hurt you nor your women

because we are Mujahidin and not bandits.

At that time, it was about 11 o'clock at night.

So we drank tea and ate some bread. We drank a lot of water.

And the old man stares at us with a fearful smile even though I was trying to demonstrate friendliness and gratitude to him but the "Pashto" Language was a barrier, so my simple attempts to tranquil him somewhat did not work, and "Shukrayat mama" which means, "thank you, uncle." I mentioned it to him but he didn't understand me. Anyway ...

We spent about an hour in his house - He felt safe for our presence during that time and so did his women. - then we left and the poor man was in disbelief since we did not hurt his women at least as the bandits usually do - and as he was looking at us and as soon as we left the door, he started shaking hands with us all, planting a kiss that carried " several meanings on the cheek of everyone of us as he called for victory for us against the tyrant government" - or this is what I understood-

And in a vacant house, we placed our baggage in order to have some "sleep" And as soon as we started falling asleep, we heard the Afghani leader shouting, "Abu-Binan," "Abu-Binan."

And in a few moments, we were awake, and we carried our weapons and moved quickly to return.

And on our way we understood that there was an order from "above" to the Afghani leaders to withdraw immediately since the enemy is advancing. And quickly, we hit the road that leads to the beginning of the road

Asphelt road, which we took to the city "back".

And in another village, we put our baggage one more time, and in spite of the

extensive bombing and fear which overwhelmed everyone since the enemy was

advancing with its "tanks," I went into deep sleep, like a child, once we put our

belongings in an old mosque in that village

But suddenly, another voice went up: "Abu-Binan," we have to move.

So we moved quickly. It was pitch dark and that means that we did not spend the night.

But I felt as if I slept for long hours, peacefully in spite of the shelling, satisfying in

spite of the fear. Beautiful in spite of the extreme cold, gratifying in spite of the. small

size of the place ...

... And we moved quickly behind "Abu-Binan," our leader.

We were in a "retreating" motion, which means going back, so we walked a long

distance.

We were passing by open posts. But on a paved road this time, and at our pace, and

heading back.

So we walked and walked and exhaustion took its complete toll on us, until we reached

the "bridge" where "Abu-Binan" kept half of the group which was launched from the

front line, after "Najm-al-Din" and "Anu 'Ubada" were injured.

And there, we performed ablution and "dawn" prayer quickly so that we do not run out

of time, then the ones who wanted to sleep did so, while others sat by the fire

As for me, I put the "Bika" off my back, which was in pain [due Bika weight].

Then, I covered myself with a light sheet, and went into a deep sleep, for half an hour only

I woke up afterwards, dosing, to start, "the second round" ...

The news that reached us from the leaders were: the enemy is advancing with great strength, and was almost able to control the line, or the first security belt around the city . So "Abu-Binan" prepared the group one more time. And we moved, but this time we used a vehicle, since the paved road became under the control of the Mujahidin, as well as the posts overlooking the road, no trouble there since they are also under the control of the Mujahidin.

Also: "Abu Treika" the Libyan, the leader of the "Bari" camp came this time to participate with the youth who were trained under his command, on the attacks. So the group moved with two vehicles until the last point that was still under the control of the "Mujahidin. "

And we gathered there in an old building which was in itself like a post for the enemy for "storage, sleeping and recreation as well" but for us, it was like a trench against the missiles and flying fragments.

And above us there is a small mountain overlooking the enemy positions and towering over the city from behind. We were using it to keep an eye on the enemy and monitor its movements.

And so it was "Abu-Binan" ordered a group to stay put with the mortar cannon plus

"cannon 82," and "cannon 77," and a group by the weapons, food and sleeping

quarters, in the old post, and a small

group on the mountain, with other groups of Mujahidin distributed on the mountain

for surveillance and observation.

And the work was organized and in shifts. So, sometimes I would be on top, and some

other times at the "post" and by the artillery at times, and my personal weapon was the

"Bika" as well --> and how beautiful the "Bika" is.

The first day passed safely, and the enemy blazes us with the flames of its artillery

And a few injuries amongst "Arabs and Afghans" because of the shrapnel that is like

burning coal moving fast as the shells explode.

Plus the artillery, as well as the artillery coming out of the airplanes and there were

some groups which were advanced a little bit who were hit by the bullets or hand

grenades.

Anyway: I spent my night, the second perhaps, there on the surveillance mountain and

from there, I was able to have a clear picture of the city, or the place in general terms.

The enemy had advanced a little towards the village that we reached finally and had tea

with the old man who's afraid for his women.

And with the binoculars, I was able to clearly see seven tanks in one row, pointing their turret guns towards the mountain which I was on. This is in addition to the armored troop carriers and some individuals from the enemy side.

And under the mountain, from the enemy's side, there were some Mujahidin grouped together waiting for any movement from the enemy or any orders from the leadership. Three days passed over there, and the artillery shelling did not stop. And there were scores of martyrs. I was able to recognize four of the Arab youth, not to mention the injured.

... Those days passed, and I expected death in any given moment. Either by a passing shrapnel, by a complete shell, or by the collapse of the post building on us by a powerful missile shell.

Those days passed, and we were advancing with weaponry to locations that are close to the enemy. But we got stuck in an agricultural area and we froze in our location, falling to the ground while bullets passed over our heads. We heard their whistle sound. And if we do not hear the sound, then we get the red glow that comes out of the bullets "the painter" which the enemy intentionally uses to terrorize and warn. We froze for about two hours when the bullets were all over us, missiles exploding around us and we were worshiping and asking forgiveness

And there, in spite of the fear that overwhelmed everyone, and in spite of how cold the

ground was beneath me and the air around me, I felt sleepy, and for about half an hour,

perhaps, I fell asleep, not caring about bullets or missiles, but, this time

also, withdrawal orders were received, so we returned fast while shells were whistling

above our heads and the worship filled our mouths -- we returned to our new center, of

course, the post and the mountain, and we were not able to do anything but to wait.

This, in addition to the artillery work and surveillance and (waiting for the shells

above us) ... and we expect the enemy offensive in any minute with great force to reclaim

his centers which fell at the hands of the Mujahidin.

And "our leader, Abu-Binan the Algerian," was organizing the work and controlling the

situation in a good way whereas he keeps a simple group with him to work on the

artillery cannons or to guard and survey the mountain and puts a group back to the rear

centers which were front lines for us in the past, "and so on, in turns"

And thank God I remained for the length of that period in the front and I did not receive

any order from "Abu-Binan" to return for the duration of that period in spite of the group

rotations and the return of my own group.

Until the destined day arrived.

A small group arrived to use the mortar artillery, then return to "Sti Kandu" and this is

the first center indeed which

we started from there, initially, to "Najm-al-Din" Center, then to the front line, then to

the "post and the mountain" location.

The group arrived, and it was made up of the following:

-Abu Al-Jarrah who is a young man who has no beard or mustache ... has a weak and

fragile body, from Algeria, and is afraid a lot from shell sound which made him subject

to some remarks from the brothers. * "Do you remember him, dear Hani2?"

-Abu Khalid Al Sumali and he is from the group that was ahead of me in training at the

"Khaldan" Camp, and also arrived before me to"Gardez."

And he is a kind young man, speaks Arabic with a sluggish and beautiful Algerian accent,

since he mingles with the brothers from Algeria. * "Do you remember him, dear

Hani2?"

-Tubba', a handsome young man from Algeria, very calm and this is rare among young

men from "Algeria" whom are known to be edgy, and in spite of their kind hearts, they

get angry quickly because of their excessive coffee drinking "and God is most

knowledgeable"

Anyway, he is "Tubba,"' since I have known him, he always adds mascara to his eyes,

which reflects its beauty more than before.

-In addition to another two young men "older in age than the others" I did not know them

before coming here and I do not remember their names. From Algeria, also.

Everyone had arrived along with a quantity of American made mortar shells

So when it was time to work, the group, along with "Abu-Binan", and I was with them,

and "Abu-Dijana Al-Ansari," from Egypt.

-He, also, had to make cannon shots -- as for me, I was a companion to "Abu-Binan"

only.

And so it was. The group lobbed a good amount of shells, and the watchman " from atop

the mountain" was telling us, through his wireless communication device, whether the

shots were precise, and was also correcting our mistakes.

Until "Abu-Binan" told "Abu-Dijana Al-Masri": to go and prepare food, since enough

shots were made.

So "Abu-Dijana" went to the old post which is not far from the artillery center, and I

went with him, while "Abu-Binan" was preparing another quantity of American shells to

be launched.

As soon as "Abu-Dijana" and I arrived at the post so that he prepares the food while I

guard the weapons, we were received by "Khalid Zubayr", who is a young man from

"Iran", a Sunni Muslim, of course. And he was angry because he had been away by

himself where the weapons are stored for a long period of time, and that he could not

even go to cleanse for prayers in the water stream adjacent to the cannons. So, we

apologized to him and he went fast. And not even more than a few moments, or more

precisely "minutes," an explosion roared

that was "silenced." Neither I cared nor did Abu-Dijana, since explosions don't stop.

But when I focused on the artillery location, I saw smoke coming out of there. So I

rushed to the place only to be dumbfounded with what I did not expect at all.

The gun barrel had exploded because of an American artillery shell that had been

"doctored" - meaning prepared especially to blow up the shooter as soon as it is placed

inside the gun barrel -

The mortar had exploded violently, and anyone near it was fatally injured.

I rushed, with some of the brothers from the neighboring center, to the injured, but there

weren't any injured, everyone was martyred, "I guessed"

"Abu Al-Jarrah", the shrapnel filling his tiny body and his bones are shattered from the

legs down ... his facial features reflect a surprise

His eyes are open and his mouth is open and he has fallen on the ground in a terrible

shape.

"Abu Khalid Al-Sumali" The huge shrapnel hit his head and penetrated into his skull.

His arms are severed and his abdomen is open, and his face reflects the features of a

sleeping person, asleep.

"Tubba"' He was on a " stretcher," blood filling his face and his body, and his

beautiful face is as it is, if not more beautiful as if he was looking at me.

As for the other two young men who are older in age, one of them had his abdomen torn apart, and his intestines were out, in addition to other injuries in the area under the belt. He was still screaming powerfully and his intestines were out.

And the other one ??? Glory to God he was alright. God willing, he was not harmed,

not even one scratch in his body even though he was close to the location of the

explosion.

"Khalid Zubayr" the Iranian, who always used to tell me that he wants to get married to

"Hur Tin," as we call the women of the world comparing them with "Hur Al-Ain" the

women of heaven, and he wished for a child who would be a Mujahid in the future, and

he says that he doesn't wish "martyrdom" now until he's done fighting the heathens all

over the planet.

The poor man ... He left us at the post, went to the water stream and made ablutions then

he went were "Abu-Binan" was with the young men and the guns

He went to "his destiny" so the shrapnel hit him in his legs, so they were severed

And in his abdomen, so he died immediately, God rest his soul.

I was like a mad man not believing what happened. For, glory to God, I was with them

moments ago, but my destiny put me away from their location and brought Khalid

Zubayr, so that he gets martyred for the sake of God. I consider it like that

and I do not need to commend anyone to God. He is ... As for me, I stayed put. Despite the difficult situation, and the ugliness of the sight. My beloved ones in God are strewn on the ground. Soaked in their blood and their organs were severed, But I controlled myself and mentioned God's name a lot.

But ... "Abu-Binan" ... Where is Abu-Binan? I asked about him only to find out that he was also injured.

His left arm was severed and he got hit in his abdomen, so his intestines and his kidney were exposed. I looked at him from afar because the brothers were completely surrounding him in addition to the person who was aiding him and aiding the others. I looked, but I could not distinguish his features. I was busy afterwards removing the "martyrs" body parts. I consider them as such and I do not need to commend anyone to God.

Until the vehicles arrived, in spite of the random but continuous shelling on the road ... The vehicles arrived and transported everybody.

So I stayed behind along with a few brothers to guard the location and the weapons, till the news came in.

Everyone has passed away -- and this was what I was sure of. But "Abu-Binan," our leader, he, also, passed away, without saying a word, or even moaning, except: take care of the weapons.

And another word that he said in French, for humor, it seems, despite his wounds, And it is: I am dead, or death. "La mort" "LAMORT." When some people tried to alleviate it [his grave situation] or comfort him.

... !! ... ?? ... "Abu-Binan" has died ... or more precisely was martyred ... I consider him so and I do not commend anyone to God.

The poor man is gone, his sad and departing looks while he was on the stretcher speaks a volume, his weary eyes due to weakness were screaming, even though his tongue did not even say: Ah, except for what he said about the weapons. Abu-Binan was gone. And only God knows the amount of love and respect I had for him. Because he was not only my camp leader or my commander on the front line. But he also was a friend. If you added together the intermittent and dispersed amount of time that I had spent with him, it wouldn't add much, but we shared a special mutual respect. I do not understand it.

Abu-Binan was gone ... small figure ... not tall ... white complexion ... with little redness on his cheeks and nose ... with curly hair ... you feel from the first instant that he is edgy ... but he is not like that even though his temper reaches its limits sometimes from the pressures facing him ... very active ... He cannot stay put in one place for a long time and since we were in "Sti Kandu" ... and also in "Najm-al-Din Camp" he could not, the poor man, stay with us for a long time ... day in and day out, you couldn't find him. Where is he? He went to Khaldan. He went to get the weapons ready. He went to "Peshawar" for some errands, or more correctly, for some problem. He went to arrange for supplies and food, one day here and next one there.

So if he comes by, you would see him exhausted, on the verge of collapse, the

communication device is in his hand. He would speak through it, with more than five

centers about their problems

And if he extends his stay in one of the centers, he starts preparing special food himself.

He fixes it, himself, with a special taste. Everyone would witness and attest that he was a

professional cook and prepared it artistically.

One day, he asked me if I needed anything from "Peshawar" or from "Khaldan." So I

did not ask for a thing.

So he told me: Don't you want a "Pepsi"? And he knew, as everybody over here

knows, how much I love "Pepsi Cola." And how much I used to indulge in drinking it.

I could not control my laughing, so he swore to me that he would bring me "Pepsi Cola,"

and that I would drink it here in "Najm-al-Din Center"

And so it was. He brought me "two bottles" of refreshments, and for his great taste, I was

speechless out of bashfulness and shyness.

But destiny did not allow me to drink it, as I was fasting on that day. Then we moved to

the front line, and from that day I did not return to "Najm-al-Din Center" before today.

since "Abu Treika" the Libyan is in charge, and our group was ordered to return with its

weapons to "Najm Al-Din Center" until further notice so that reorganization and

distribution would take place anew.

And today:

Everybody retreated backwards a little, so I returned with them. We,"Abu-Binan" Group left our place, while the other groups of "Arabs" and "Afghans" remained in their places facing the enemy.

Today: I am in "Najm-al-Din Center." But there is no "Najm-al-Din" because he is now

at the "hospital" and with one leg, God help him.

And the first thing that I did was to open the Pepsi bottle and I drank it deeply and

forcefully, and May God bless you "Abu-Binan" and place you to live in his vast

heavens and accept you, you and whoever is with you from the brothers, as martyrs in

his path and the path of raising the word of this Islamic religion

today \ I drank the Pepsi Cola bottle after its owner departed life

Then I opened my bag which was covered with dust. And I got this notebook out of it

and I held the pen and started writing you, dear Hany2

So, sorry for my delay in writing

And sorry for the long writing

And greetings to you

Hani1

3/4/1412 AH 10/October/1991 AD

"A follow-up" Note:

The brothers smelled an aromatic scent and "aroma" in the accident site "cannon site"

But: I did not smell this odor over there

So when I returned to the "Najm-al-Din Center" . .

One of the brothers brought me the "bullet vest" belonging to: Khalid Al-Sumali, which

he was wearing on his chest the day he was injured, and was martyred -- I consider him

so and I do not need to commend anyone to God -

Anyway:

The vest had blood that was still crimson red in color, and it had an aromatic scent

Really: I smelled the scent myself and I cannot deny that: it is the smell of "aroma"

Originated from the blood of a martyr.

And God is great and to God be the Glory

Hani1

The day: Is "Monday"

Seven - Rabi' Al-Thani ...

The time: 4.13 in the evening

The location: "Najm-al-Din" Center ... The room

The condition" The sky is dumping snow outside, suddenly the clouds gathered, and a

little hail came down then it was the white snow.

The sky is pouring as if a person is holding a pillow stuffed with cotton, soft and fluffy,

and spreading it in each direction, the cotton would then fly into the air, only to fall

down on the ground so quietly and softly.

And in a few moments the ground was completely white, covered with a fragile snow in

such a beautiful way which makes it hard for a person watching the scene to distinguish

between the sky and the ground, since everything is white in color across the small plateaus or the huge mountains where their whiteness meets the whiteness of the clouds so one cannot tell where the mountain ends, or even where it starts. And now: I write you from inside the room "where its condition has deteriorated rapidly, while I was away, it became

stuffed with ammunition and dust"

Anyway ... Now I write you, and it is quite hard to do so because of my inability to

even have a grip on the pen to write.

So you find me warming up my hands for a while, then I quickly write a line or two.

and truly:

I, by nature, do not recognize cold, or so I try to be, So you find me walking around

with a short-sleeved shirt covering my body during coldest days in "Riyadh" -- Saudi

Arabia. While people put all the winter clothes they own on their bodies. And you see

them shivering with cold from behind the windows of their vehicles, because the climate

in "Riyadh" is a desert climate, hot during summer, very cold in the winter.

And it was the first time for me to admit that it was cold while I was on my way from

"Mysor" to "New Delhi," in "India" by train.

Then I felt it even more at the "Bari Camp" ...then during my guard duty in "Khaldan" ,

during its semi-frosty winters, and today in the morning, I found out that my teeth

were clacking from cold.

And something else, dear Hani ...

Sometimes -- the cold or the feeling of being cold in my body is a sensation, and not a

feeling.

-I don't think you understood me: What I mean is that the cold penetrates into my

sensations sometimes and my body shivers as if I was placed inside a very cold

refrigerator.

When I think of a certain topic, or if I remember a specific event, I get the cold

"sensation," even though the sweat is dripping from my forehead.

And sometimes, I shrink into my clothes, the light summery ones, and I wish to put

my hands in the pockets of a jacket that I am not really wearing. I feel cold all of a

sudden and because of a thought or a fleeting memory.

And now: I feel both conditions My body is cold

And cold in my sensations

With a cold feeling, and a cold sensation

Hani2 Notice\ On the next day

-The snow melted away quickly, and the sun returned again "scorching"!!?? So glory to God.

Thursday: 10-Rabi' Al-Thani - 1412 AH

17-October-1991 AD Truly, there is nothing new to write you. But I wanted to write you anyway!! the situation now: is to wait for the right time to attack the enemy positions once again.

It should be noted that the Mujahidin from the other side of the city are now playing an effective role and the continuous attacks. And the plan seems to be this: storm through, which is a comprehensive attack from more than one direction, until the commandment of God is being fulfilled, and we are now awaiting the orders. And it was - that short period of turbulent serenity - it was a chance for me to "organize myself once again! .after more than a month and a half of not having a shower other than "rough and quick washes" ...

After this long period of filthiness, a black layer has formed on my skin, especially my hands. What made it worse was the cold weather and the water, which created this layer of "dry skin" atop the skin.

And the ditch that I was digging in dirt, and sweat from inside ... etc. until I became.

a germ.

So an opportunity presented itself in this serenity, in the "Najm-al-Din" Center so I

cleaned myself, a bath that took longer than an hour and a half.

And I wore a new suit which was given to me by one of the brothers. So I looked like a

"bridegroom." as the brothers hear had labeled me -

Then I had to wash my clothes, and this is the problem! [IL] now, and God knows,

because I do not know, or more correctly, I am not good at washing clothes, and I face a

huge problem when it's time to wash my clothes, you would find me puzzled as to what

to do, I still remember "my mother and the washing machine" ... or I remember

"Flomina" my servant from "India."

And you find me sometimes wishing that the dumb "Flomina" would do these tasks

instead of me, because it really continues to be a problem for me. So I cannot but "heat

up the dirty laundry in hot water with some soap then I squeeze it and hang it on the

trees ... and whether it's cleaned up or not, no problem

And usually, clothes are not cleaned like that, but God have mercy.

"The end!" Part one of my dialogue with you today

Another thing I will tell you about, so I can be with you, dear Hani2, for a longer

period of time.

Do you know, every now and then, I find myself undecided somehow. I would have

read the daily flowers from the holy Qur'an. I would have read whether it's morning

or night, depending on the time I ate my food.

The day \ Thursday

The calendar says: 17 - Rabi' Al-Thani

24 - October But "the moon" says it is the 16th of the month of Rabi' 2 and regardless, of what the calendar says, I have "fasted the white days 13-14-15 of the "AH" month, relying on the moon [fasting month of Ramadan in Islam] and ended it only yesterday. And today I'm fasting: "Thursday" -- "Monday" and "Thursday" -- and this means, dear Hani2 that I, thank God, started moving according to the program that I had designed for myself, even though I did not commit to it literarily, because of the unstable conditions. And the program is: of course, currently it is not implemented in its entirety -- Fasting -- On the days of "Monday" and "Thursday" + the three whites in every month

- No supper at all -- even though I did finish the determined time --

-- Maintaining the exercises, especially: "chest" pressure in an intermittent pattern (10-10) until one hundred, in the morning after the dawn prayer or before going to sleep

And pressure for the "abdomen" before sleep or late evening, "depending on the situation"

Daily flowers from the Qur'an "ending -- memorizing."

Seeking help from God. Another thing: The weather today is moderate and the sun is "being brutal" And "Gardez" bled many martyrs and wounded till now

And it is still not being conquered, in spite of the good news - seeking help from God

and, greetings to you

The day \ Saturday: 19 - Rabi' Al-Thani

26 - October The time: eleven in the morning

The location: my small room inside the "Najm-al-Din Center" And yesterday we moved, myself and some of the brothers, to the front a little, where the new artillery location is situated, which we supplied after the murder of "Abu-Binan," based on orders from our current leader: "Abu-Treika" the Libyan -Unfortunately, we did not settle in our location for a long time because of some events that took place and the ensuing orders, for partial retreat, as the communist enemy forces advanced with their tanks to control positions that were in Mujahidin hands. They also gained control of some of the high hills that exposed to them a long road that is considered the only road for the Mujahidin or more correctly the easier one, to the front line of the confrontation. That is why a few Afghani Mujahidin groups have retreated, as well as our group from a location it had where it became exposed to the enemy. So the movement in it became impossible because of the concentrated bombardment and the missiles that caused a few injury cases in our group.

The important thing is \ in spite of the retreat of some groups of the Mujahidin, a few other groups of Arabs, Bengalis and Afghans remained

concentrated in its place despite the dangerous situation.

Therefore, our group did withdraw or retreated from one of its locations and fortified

another location by staying in it at the battlefront.

I was ordered to return to "Najm-al-Din Center" until new coordination is in place.

So we seek help from God: even though the enemy advanced and controlled a few

locations using this method, a frustrating and annoying event, except that God chooses

and he does what he wants. Also, war is - attack and retreat - and one day is "for you and

the other day is against you, so we seek help from God."

Note: in one day, one sees death more than I00 times here, no sooner the airplanes stop

their raids than they start dropping cluster bombs which are made up of" an exploding

barrel of which hundreds of bombs or parachute bombs come out, it fell a while ago on

one of the Mujahidin trenches and it destroyed it with whomever was in it because of

its weight and its severe impact, almost leveling it to the ground, so more than "30"

people were killed in one instance.

-- and on the way, the B.M missiles "surface to surface" or the tank shells comb the

place, and if you escape them, you would not escape the combing fragments that are

sharp and severely incendiary, and it produces "shrapnel" upon impact.

-- And in the front, the tank and the artillery and much more turn this place to

A garden of fire and smoke ...

-- and if that wasn't enough, the hypocrites are on the watch, and they are individuals

who claim to be with the Mujahidin but they help the "heathen state" and receive

money, or they corner the individual to capture him and present him to the Communist

Government in lieu of large sums of money, especially if the captive is an "Arab" then

his price is very expensive.

-- And if it wasn't this or that, the land mines that are planted everywhere which are

planted by the hypocrites - Almighty God curse them - are sufficient to get one of your

legs - if not getting you in full, all of you.

Anyway, what I meant is that death walks with every person here, like his shade,

meaning his own shadow, awake or asleep, even in "a place of solitude" or in the

bathroom -- to do the necessary. I do not by God dear Hani2, I do not go to the

bathroom -- to do the necessary -- or go to "a place of solitude" unless I ask God that I do

not die in such way.

The shells and the shrapnel and the hypocrites -- all these things are considered

forms of sedition which we ask God to make us firm in its face.

And anyway -- for the sake of God's path, everything becomes easy to raise the word

and the dignity of this religion.

And by God, the ghost of death, which is feared by many people

Became to us as if it did not exist. And only God knows that I did not come onto this

land, Afghanistan, except to die, to get killed for the sake of the almighty God, to

protect "my religion" with my soul and blood.

And I ask God, the martyrdom for his sake, sincerely,

So, God and zindbad Islam, zindbad Mujahidin

which means - and God is most knowledgeable -that he cheers for the Islam or victory to Islam So, God is great and to God be the thanks And greetings.

Hani2

Will I not bribe you with these final expressions? Retarded emotions here

Saturday: 26 - Rabi' Al-Thani - 1412 AH

Corresponding to 2 - November - 1991 AD.

Location: "Najm-al-Din Center"

And there is nothing new except some varying news that we receive about different posts

being opened on the other side of the city which helps in tightening the grip around it and

the "conquest" would be easy, God willing.

And our group, its tasks are limited to -- until now -- the guns, B.M and the mortar gun

and everyone has a special post, under one of the bridges, or in one of the old buildings

And until further notice, we do not do anything other than shooting from afar and

targeting enemy positions and their gatherings with "artillery."

The time now is: 9:30

And I am writing you, dear Hani2, and it is difficult because of a health illness that I

am going through which caused me to stay here in "Najm-al-Din Center" and not to

advance to one of the artillery posts, either the "mortar gun" or the "B.M" until I have a

clean bill of health and we seek help from God.

Another thing: This journal notebook is almost filled, and I asked one of the brothers to

bring another notebook from Peshawar where he went for some errands. So I hope he

brings me a notebook to become part two of my memoir or my letters to you Hani2. But

if he does not bring it, God is our help. I may get disconnected from you and I hate this

a lot. I cannot be without

you, Hani2, or without writing.

And as I told you before, you, Hani2, are the kind heart that I can come to, you are my refuge -- after blessed almighty God of course -- and I vent out my worries and my sorrows to you. I share my feelings with you, and tell you about what pleases me

. And about what is happening to me through the path of my life until I reach you, or perhaps after that.

Anyway, May God protect and bring me - that person - with a proper notebook so we do not depart, me and you.

And greetings. * On Sunday:

The other notebook had arrived, but unfortunately it is not what I had requested. Therefore I might do some adjustments to it then I would continue writing you through it. And I may not do this until further notice. So, I am sorry. So, God is our help, the events here do not give me the luxury of selection or choice, even if they do, right now I do not have the means to buy anything, and thank God for everything.

The day \ Saturday:

16-November- 1991 AD

10 - Jamada Al-Awal. 1412 AH The time now is: 9:30

And the location: is Najm-al-Din Center

And the situation: the place is almost vacant except for a few individuals. Because the time to vacate the place completely from "people and items" is nearing due to snow which causes all windows to close when it accumulates.

That is why we have nowhere else but," the Sti Kandu" as a rear center then the locations of the "B.M" and the "mortar gun" in the front, which are not far from each other

And currently, and since the last day I wrote you, I have been in the BM location which is an old, stony structure, damaged by the shells except for two large rooms which we have used for sleep and ammunition ...

And because I am on the side, I had to return here, Najm Center for washing, because it is impossible to do this over there.

And there is nothing new I can tell you about, except that, thank God, I was able to obtain another notebook, a writing book for the second part of my memoir book. And I may finish this notebook, today, then I continue with you in the other book.

Note\

A unit from the enemy forces consisted of about "ten" tanks in addition to the infantry

and personnel carriers have advanced towards the Mujahidin Centers.

And since yesterday evening the shelling has been continuous. And the stony structure is

on the verge of collapse on top of whoever is in it "us" because of the violent shocks

which the shells cause to the ground around us.

And today, we prayed in the morning, expecting a shell to level the building with

whoever is inside it.

But, thank God, the Mujahidin were able to stop the enemy's advances and, with the

grace of God, they were able to blow up three tanks.

One was with an 82 shell, and the other was with a "Milan" Missile

As for the third, it was ours the "BM12: group

So thank God and "When you shoot, God makes the shot, not you"

And truly, that was the case, because we were continuing to shoot on the B.M with the

directions being given by one of the brothers from the surveillance location where he

corrects the distances and the directions for us remotely using the wireless

communication device.

And it was one of the missiles which was launched erroneously

We did not calculate it - on the turret view point "exactly" and "precisely"

So it hit the target at the top of the tank exactly.

And it was a stray missile. So, God is great, and thank God.

And, dear Hani 2,

Day: 16 - November 1991 AD

10 - Jumada Al-Thani 1412 AH

Today, I will finish up the first part of the book of my memoirs to you.

So thanks be to God, prayers and peace on his honest prophet Mohammad, God grant him

This picture reflects an old reality for me. Almost [IL]

Sultan and "Inas".

He is in his first year (in the picture).

And she [IL] (on top).

Two pictures that grill me with yearning for both of them. (1 [IL] - Dhu Al-Qi'da-1411 AH

I may not see them again "and God is most knowledgeable". 2 [IL]-MAY-1991 AD)

[A notebook cover with a picture having two truncated words in Latin letters. The first partial word is," ... yalaks ... " The second partial word is, "SUPE ... "]

This is a picture ... Doesn't reflect reality

picture ... it is ...

Beard The goatee

1412 Hijri [1992 AD]

"In the name of God the most compassionate the most merciful"

"Peace and prayers be upon his faithful messenger, Muhammad, God's blessing and

peace be upon him"

Dear Hani 2,

Peace and God's mercy and blessings be upon you

Greetings full of "fancy" yearning to you

Now,

This is the second notebook of my diary or accurately the message of my complaint

towards the world and this age ... From me Hani / to you Hani 2.

These diaries are my only way and method to relief myself ... Through it, I complain to someone, so I can ease the burden on my soul, my nerves and my mind ... So I lighten Its heavy burden of what preoccupies it, from a short-lived memory, an impacting event, or a certain problem. Or even the slightest thought which its effects, sometimes, settles in the soul, strikes the cords of the nerves, sticks to the corners of the mind, or even as what "is mostly going to happen; Aching the heart.

So accept my sincere greeting and bear my complaint. Who knows, we may meet each other, although we are, Hani 1 and Hani 2, nothing but one person, that's "Hani" i.e. I ... And you as well, but in two different times and to different ages. The more I get closer to you in time ... "one year" ... you also move away from me in time by the same amount, one year only. But if God allows me to live long enough, you will read what I am writing right now, and then we will meet each other at least ...

In a figurative or imaginative way.

Otherwise, if my Lord's will is not to meet with you, then apologies, apologies, apologies and apologies for God does whatsoever he wills.

Moreover, dear Hani 2,

There are things which I like to confirm it to you at the start of this second notebook of

my diary so that the vision becomes clear to you, and to avoid misunderstanding ...

First: I still repeat my saying- as it was in the beginning of the first notebook-

-> (If it was in my hand to erase all my past, from the moment of my birth up to this

moment, the moment of writing these words, by God I would not hesitate for a second.)

* Note:-I don't deny the happy and beautiful moments, and some situations, I would like it to retain without erasing from my memory. Additionally, I have major stakes in the Jihad landscape, I strongly refuse that it would be erased or even forgotten; to the contrary, I insist that it should be engraved violently in my memory.

Second: I would like to assure myself which is represented by Hani 1, and myself which personified in Hani 2 that I am not "Schizophrenic" ... "Split personality disorder". To the contrary, I split my own self willingly, to talk to it, to judge it if it errs, to complain to it if I get tired, so it doesn't tell my secrets to any one. I program it with whatever is good for it, religiously and worldly, I organize all matters that concerns it. Moreover

and more importantly I tell her about a situation which I encountered, or a thought that preoccupies my mind, or any story of that sort. As soon as I start telling, and then comes the turn of that part that has been split from one's own self and personified in Hani 2 ... yourself, then the letter directed to you becomes a group of lessons or the like ... Experience that may benefit you, or mistakes which I, indirectly, warn you from so you don't fall in them again, while I've already fallen into them before you ... Or a lesson you may want to consider.

Additionally, these situations [are for you] so you don't forget the past ... For whoever doesn't have a past, doesn't have a future.

Dear Hani 2, these stories may sadden you so you shed tears. By that, you prove that you are a human being and that you have tender feelings. Or they, I mean these stories, may cheer you so you smile. By that, you prove that you are a human being and that you have distinct emotion. Or perhaps, dear Hani 2, it makes you laugh so you prove that you are me ... Hani 1.

The giver of outstanding love, respect and peace.

Hani [signature]

Jumada
El-'Ula, 11, 1412 H.
November, 17, 1991 AD

Day/ Monday 12-Jumada
El-'Ula November, 18

The situation is the same ... Attack and retreat. As for the place, it is "BM12" [BM12 is a Soviet Missile Launcher] center and the news seem to be a mix of radio broadcasts that are interfering with each other so that they are hardly distinguished apart- on the radio set-

The enemy advances, some times with their tanks and soldiers' carriers, then the Mujahidin open fire on them with Mortar shells or "R.B.J" [RPG] so they go back where they came from picking up the wounded or to transport their dead. Other times, the Mujahidin sneak-in in small groups only with small personal weapons, PK [Pulemyot Kalashnikov, a Russian Automatic Machine Gun] and R.B.J. [RPG]. So they control some site, then not before long, they retreat from it because of the intense firing towards them. So some times the site would be under their control and other times it would be under the control of the communist enemy. And it goes like that until it is predestined by God that the information, about the locations hit by missiles when we are targeting enemy positions [IL], arrives to us from the observer, on the "Radio communication set", thus we correct our aiming accordingly.

Sometimes his voice becomes louder shouting and announcing that a tank was hit either by us or by another BM site and it is not before long that we exclaim and shout [Allah Akbar] and we praise God. Sometimes he cries out- you prepare the shells quickly, the enemy is advancing to the sites of the Mujahidin ... Quickly ... Quickly. The mode grows tense and the movement is troubled and the supplications are not ceasing ... Then the shells are fired and the voice of exclamation [Allah Akbar] almost prevails over the noise of the firing moment.

This is how the days pass by around the city of "Qardiz" [PH] ... And the "weather" will give warning after warning that a harsh and cold winter is knocking at the doors, perhaps it will even pass through the door to the inside of the house. The mountains around us turned white and the ground is covered by frost so we think that it will not go back to normal until the summer comes. However, as soon as the sun rises, it melts the frost on the ground ... But the mountains are still as they are white and grandiose ... The snow covers them in a magnificent way, it makes it more beautiful, magnificent and grandiose.

For God is the one to rely on.

Note: 1- Flaying has not stopped today, firing missiles that land next to us in the semi destroyed building which we are taking as a "BM" center. The cluster bombs cover the place along the road with its frightening and successive roaring. For God is the one to rely on.

Note: 2- This system that I previously talked to you about ... As you can see, circumstances are not permitting me to completely adhere to it, but I will try and God is the one to rely on.

And Peace.

[Signature]

Day/ Thursday (15-Jumada
El-'Ula- November, 21)

And ... Actually Dear Hani 2 I don't know what to tell you or how to say it ...

All that it is ... I am in greatly yearning for my siblings and especially the young ones

among them. Their images didn't leave my mind since yesterday.

-> "Jilnar" [PH] :- As if I see her behind her study desk buried in school books trying

hard to be at the top of the class.
-> "Wafa"" :- As if I see her playing with an "unclean" little cat, for she loves cats- As I

do too- even if they are not clean.
-> "Ibtisam" :-1 seriously feel that she is behind or in front of the mirror combing he

"Indian" long hair with Indian hair oils.
-> "Hisham" :- He is now definitely with the "Atari" on the TV and his eyes are moving

franticly with the game.
-> "Nisrin" :-I think that my mother had told her to take a bath, and as if I see her getting

out of the bathroom after she took a shower with hot water and soap, collecting her

stuff and protesting that she is being told to take a bath.
-> "Kamal" :- It seems to me that he is, as usual, sitting next to Hisham watching how he plays and waiting for his turn ... As soon as it is his turn, he gets a hold of the Atari device and if he makes a mistake and someone tries to guide him, you see him quickly mentioning his famous phrase - "I know" or "Iknow, Iknow". That's to say, no need for advice because I know everything.
-> "Sultan" :- As for him, I really don't know where would he be ... Is he by the "Television". I mean watching cartoons ... Or in front of the VCR watching one of the

Horror movies for the tenth time, as usual.

Or perhaps he is now doing his school homework with strong enthusiasm. Or is he now

with "Hisham and Kamal" on the Atari ... I don't know ... And it's not important that I

know. What's important is that I am strongly yearning for him in particular.

-> "Inas" :- As for Inas, because I didn't know her except as an infant, It's not possible to

predict what she could be doing currently. But, God knows, that I am yearning for her

although I don't know what she looks like now except for a picture "affixed to the first

diary notebook."

For God's will was that Inas to be born while I was studying in India. When I visited my

family- After six months of travel- she was bom and grew a little such that she used to

cry when she saw me. After that I went back to India to finish my studies and I haven't

seen her until now ... My little sister of "one year" of age now -- I think -- ... "Inas."

And then ... / My brother "Mahir" and his fights with me, and my quarrels with him when we were young ... And my father and my mother ... -> all these persons, suddenly and without any introductions, their images are rushing into my mind ... Their voices echo in the dark comers [IL] of my mind ... And they echo more and more until I could no longer hear whoever is speaking next to me.

And memories of being together, the good ones and the bad ones, are undulating in my heart as if they were sea waves when the moon is full, so the "salty" water overflows across my eyes in the form of burning and abundant tears, strong and violent. However, I neither see it nor do I feel it, as if I fantasize crying but I don't actually cry.

So I don't do anything except I let out a strong and burning sigh, it almost puts out the fire of the burner which I usually sit next to after the Morning Prayer to worm up and wait for a strong glass of "tea" ... To get my fix.

Then I repeat it again ... I take a deep breath of air mixed with smoke coming from the burning firewood ... Like the firewood in the brick oven. And I sip on the glass of tea til take in the air and the memories.

Note/I have built my imagination of the situations of my siblings and what they might be doing currently, based on the last image I have for them since I left them- Before traveling to India for the second time-Where "Jilnar [PH]" was in her third year in secondary school [Senior in high school.] "Wafa~[PH]"- Second year in high school [Junior in high school.] "Ibtisam[PH]" - Third year in middle school [Freshman high school] "HishamfPH]" Second year in middle school [eighth grade]- "NisrinfPH]", perhaps sixth grade and "KamalfPH]", perhaps fifth grade and "Sultan[PH]" in second grade ... Perhaps, God only knows.

But now they definitely must have gown up ... God bless.

Perhaps one of my sisters got married ... Or a couple of them ... Perhaps they are

currently in the "university".

I don't know ... And it's not important that I know, but I wish I could know ... So I know

their news and be comforted that they are okay. But, dear Hani 2,I don't say anything

but ...

God is the one to rely on.

Today / Friday

(16 Jumada
Al-U'la [PH] * November 22)

1412 H-                            1991 AD

The time: Almost seven in the evening

The place: The semi destroyed building ... Next to the desert asphalt road leading to the city of "Qardiz"which is now under siege by the Mujahidin ... The building is one of the "BM12" centers which belongs to us, who survived the battlefront group of Abu-Bannan" Al-Jaza'iri's [The Algerian]

Situation: "Relatively" calm ... No sound of missiles or the likes nor even the sounds of cars going back and forth on the road. But the brothers from the BM group in the other room of the destroyed building, which we used it as a kitchen and storage for provisions and ammunitions, are now around the brick oven. They are chatting after supper with a glass of strong green tea as the brother from Algeria like it.

What's Important/ Although nothing is important ... At least for the time being!! I am now in the sleeping quarter, I write to you dear Hani 2 on the oil lamp with it's distinct smell.

In fact, and as usual, I don't know what I'm writing, but definitely as the time goes, I will write to you, until you get bored from me or I'm bored from you, because you always listen ... Listen to my complaints without answer, objection or even agreeing. Excuse me, but you are with all honesty, mute. Like a psychiatrist, you treat me. You listen and listen until I say everything, I confess to you with everything. But the psychiatrist himself, always talks at the end

And through his words one can find treatment.

Then he may write a "prescription" ... Gives some pills ... Or recommends them, even if it was "Aspirin" to give the patient the false impression that it is an effective medicine so the patient is convinced. Thus, his treatment is "fictitious" since he is "delusively" sick in the first place. Or if he is convinced with the medication, then he is actually cured although there is no relationship between the diseases and the medication. It's all nothing but illusion.

[IL] you dear Hani, you are a failed physician who needs physician himself. But I, thank God, do not suffer from any psychiatric disorders. Even if I did, not even the best and the greatest psychiatrist will be able to find a cure for me because I simply know in advance what he will say or do. In Other words his tricks are known for those who know the rules of the game. Further more, you are neither fit nor suitable to be psychiatrist, dear Hani 2, pardon me!

More importantly, once more, there are mixed things I would like to talk to you about so

that you don't forget, although they are not particularly of actual importance.

First/I will tell you about a brother who saw a "dream" [IL] and told me about it.

- That brother saw as in a vision during his sleep ... That I was sitting chatting with him

and a number of the brothers and friends in a large gathering place, until a loud call came

from inside ... It was my mother. I went in answering her call, and then I came back with a

beautiful young girl with me.

She's my daughter, whom I had divorced her mother.

I came back to the gathering place carrying my beautiful daughter, rejoicing. So the brothers started playing with her and kissing her, and. . Nothing else ... The "dream" ended.

But what does that mean?

I originally believe that good visions are windows to the unseen and it is one among the

prophetic branches. Or as reported on the profit "May God's blessings and peace be upon

him."

God only knows if I will part of this vision. If so, what is the meaning of the young girl and "my daughter"? Who is he mother?? My divorcee? ? God knows.

Second/ Dear Hani 2 I would like to talk to you about something else ... It's painful memory. I am ashamed before God the exalted when I remember it. However, you ought not to forget it yourself so that you continuously regret and ask for forgiveness.

Do you remember that poor woman ... Who was asking for your love [IL] everything in "India" ... Forcefully, using tears which is women's more effective weapon ... And with reason -- from a ridiculous stand point -- ... She always tried to please me, or to impress me, but I always despised her, and belittled her. I used to highlight the flaws in her wardrobe, although she is elegant and I don't deny that and highlight the flaws in her appearance, although she was not lacking in beauty which was apparent and she showed it very well.

The poor thing lived a love story that was not far from the Indian movies which is much exaggerated to the extent of absurdity.

When I upset her, she would drown herself in alcohol all night, in her own home. Then she comes to tell me about it might I sympathy for her. She is afraid to disobey me lest I get angry.

As for me, I actually used to pretend "Ice-like emotions" with her. I was trying to avoid being weak in front of her or to take a liking into her, even mere liking ... For I knew the consequences.

I always tried to not show emotions in our relationship. I was afraid that the poor thing would fall in love- And I was fully aware of how sensitive she is to that- I always tried to escape because I am not ready to dive into a ridiculous "Indian movie."

And I am not ready to dive into a muddy unlawful sex, of course fearing God.

Sometimes I used to get intoxicated from her weakness before what I call my manliness which is not weakened yet [IL] and sometime I used to fear for her heart from my coldness or from a day destined to arrive when we are going to separate.

The poor thing, she sometimes would resort to crying and hoping that I just kiss her ... across the lips of course, so I would have no choice but to respond ... In astonishment, but kisses like these, especially if I start fondling her delicate body and her feminine bodily features as a complementary or unintentional move following the kiss, I say: kisses like that will open the door widely to the devil. And suddenly as I started, she' finds me abruptly stopped. Not out of fear from the consequences, but He is my witness, out of fear from God ...

Glory praise to Him, the Almighty ... May my Lord forgive me.

- Suddenly as I started, I abruptly stop and withdraw while the poor thing [IL] breaks

down.

I too almost do the same thing so I break down, but a few Quran verses are the best support and help for me and thanks to God alone.

nnu now: I mean tue time oi writing tuese worus, you liriu me, Ham /, looking strangely at this rudeness from "Sub-Zero Hani" i.e. or "I" during that period.

My fear from God stopped me from diving into what's not lawful "Sex". However, I should have feared God from the beginning ... For even the look to anything but what God made lawful is in itself unlawful [forbidden] and I will be judged for it, let alone a "kiss" across the lips ... And not to mention the other things "before the point of no return".

One more thing, my rudeness in that period through "Sub-Zero Hani" did not stop only at that point. There is more to the story, so listen and ask for forgiveness from God.

I told you that the poor thing feared to turn down a request from me. And it was so, to the extent that sometimes I used to scold her loudly if she acted in a cold manner with my friend, and the third person in this story, "Muhammad" who was in turn trying hard to gain her acceptance. Nevertheless, she didn't give him any attention.

As if every time he tries to joke with her, he is received with total rejection, so he gets angry.

Therefore I used to play the role of the match maker; first, to get rid of her, and second to please my friend ...

And that is how it went:

I used to command her to respond to him, play along and complement him. And I used to try hard to bring them together and the poor thing, at the beginning, used to comply unwillingly to please me. But as time went by she has started to feel comfortable with "Muhammad"

At that point I exploited the situation and charged up "Muhammad" with a set of advices to captivate her. And I coached him on the vulnerabilities of women and particularly this poor one.

Subconsciously, I was disinclined to her, turning away form her ... Belittled her. Until I got what I wanted, so it came to the point where I would come home from the university to find them talking and laughing. At that point I took a deep breath; finally I got rid of her without breaking her fragile heart, the product of Indian movies which she constantly watched ... And without pushing her to commit suicide as she tried before in a previous relationship.

However, my friend "Muhammad" was not a responsible young man. His favorite hobby is to make improper advances towards girls and to try to making them fall for him. Having a "car" helped him much in catching these lowly disreputable college girls and others. But he showed a special interest in this poor girl. As for her, she was a flirtatious woman, perhaps in her thirties although she appears to be only in her twenties.

The Indian movies with it exaggerated display of romance had an extraordinary effect on her emotions. Like all Indian girls, she makes a love story out of any casual relationship or even a short-lived encounter.

And she pictures herself as one of those movie stars waiting for the chance to knock and break her heart, as usual, so she becomes sad and cries a little, then tries to commit suicide to become a star in the eyes of the people.

More importantly, she is playful ... No religion to restrict her from what she wants ... But she doesn't allow anyone to make improper advances towards her on the streets!!

Therefore, and throughout my last days in "India"-I started thinking that some unlawful relationship must develop between the two and I, rudely enough, is the cause for it.

But I got distracted with the preparation for travel and to escape from this vain world in a disparate attempt on my side to save whatever I can of my religious life.

I didn't wake up until later after things went out of my control and "it was too late". At that time I was almost in a shock, what did I do? I, inadvertently, brought two things closer to each other in an unlawful way, although both of them are drenched in the filth of the unlawful from head to toe. But I am the reason for it, no, and one thousand no. That's not what I wished, but it happened, and only I, no one else, am directly responsible for that.

I the past I was happy that I got rid of her and that my friend was happy wit her as well. Nevertheless, how didn't I question the matter, indeed I am stupid. What kind of cloud blurred my vision, what a pity on the work of my hands. By God, I plead much forgiveness from God alone ... For what do you want from any one but Him or who is greater than Him?

And you dear Hani 2 I ask you to plea for forgiveness.

Sunday: 18/Jumada
El-'Ula
November, 24

Nine O'clock in the morning.

Yesterday evening, one of the brothers woke me up since I went to sleep very early. He was carrying a message and two cans of soft drinks "Pepsi Cola."

The message was from "Najm Al-Din" from Peshawar.

Its text is as follows:

In the name of God the most compassionate the most merciful.

Brother "Zubayda", peace and Alla's mercy and blessings be upon you.

- O brother, after being injured, I knew the true meaning of "martyrdom" and we ask God to bestow upon you the martyrdom for His cause sooner than later and don't forget me in your supplication.

- Also don't forget to extend my greetings to all the brothers, one by one, if you can.

Your brother/ Najm Al-Din

Peace and Alla's mercy and blessings be upon you.

Then he signed

The message was short and quick, but he, May God rewards him with goodness, tried to make it look elegant. You can notice that in the embellishment he included around "Al-Basmalah" [The utterance of "In the name of God the most compassionate the most merciful".]

Furthermore, The two cans of soft drinks "Pepsi Cola" ... Most people around me know how much I love "Pepsi" or at least exaggerate loving it.

Another thing/

During the period we were in the first center, "Najm Al-Din" center, which is now completely empty because of the weather conditions as I told you, I say that he, '"Najm Al-Din", always recited: "O Lord bestow upon us martyrdom for Your cause, after we had a long life and good deeds."

If I tell him that I personally seek hastily the martyrdom for the cause of God, he would belittle it saying: And what did you offer for Islam and Jihad so that you want to leave as soon as you reach the land of Jihad?

Today, his message says in his own words:

"I knew the meaning of martyrdom" and he invited me to it "Sooner than later", So I

really don't understand.

But I don't ask God anything but steadfast for me and him. God is the one to rely on.

Hani 1 [Signature]

Note/

Some of the brothers visited "Najm Al-Din" at the hospital and told me that his morale is

very high and that his state of mind is the same as before, as if nothing happened.

Monday: 19/Jumada
El-'Ula/1412 Hijri
25/November/1991 AD.

Climate conditions ... The weather outside is not bad ... Somewhat cool but bearable or avoidable with the aid of some clothes, not too heavy-. Although the snow and ice have not really started yet, it is obvious that we will keep the city under siege and remain stationed around it during winter season, which is deadly around here ... Unless God wills something ...

But dear Hani 2, that's not what I would like to talk to you about. There is another "climate" or "weather", I feel a strong urge to describe to you. It's the morale climate: I don't know what the reason is, but for the past three days I was not normal according to brothers, here in the "BMJ2" center. I was completely silent, thinking a lot, looking into the fire of the burner and dive within it in a different world. Or suddenly I get pinned to the ground looking at the far snow mountains, watching them, not laughing or even smiling in the face of whoever is talking to me. And indeed this is what happened with me, and the brothers noticed it ... But what is the cause? Actually I don't know myself.

Days before that and all of a sudden, I opted to be silent, I had no desire to speak whatsoever, and this is not usual for me, I didn't even want to smile- And that also was not the look which I made others get used, furthermore, being distracted for long periods such that I don't hear whoever is talking to me.

What was I thinking about?? -> I don't know, or more correctly, nothing specific at all.

More importantly/ And also all a sudden, this morning, I go back to joking once more, amidst the surprise of everyone.

I was surprised indeed when they found that my joking is unusual until one of them said

to me: is the case over?

And another said: Thank God, Abu-Zubayda went back to normal.

And then a third said: The place became dark for the last few days.

Actually I would say: I was pleased by their nice complements.

However, when they asked me about the cause, I couldn't find anything but avoiding to

answer because I don't know myself and I don't want to know ... So thank God for

everything.

Anther thing ... I still insist on following this program which I planned for myself despite the state of instability ... It's neither the place nor the conditions. For I, Dear Hani 2, believe and even love order, to the extent that I get a headache when situations are in disorder.

But life here, in Afghanistan, especially on the battle fronts, forces on you the lack of stability and lack of order. For war is attack and retreat, one day for you and another one against you.

Nevertheless, and despite that as well, I insist. Therefore I will try my best ... So If I can, let it be then, and Thank God, but If I couldn't adhere to it - Completely or partially-, then God is the one to be relied on. And thank God as well.

And Oh my Lord. Hani [Signature]

Monday: 19/Jumada
El-'Ula
25/November

Time: Six thirty, in the evening.

Do you know, dear Hani 2 -> And I think I talked to you about this before, that's if I had not given you a headache because of it, that from time to time; I have these sweet and beautiful dreams ... Daydreams of course.

I see myself in them with a wife [IL] conversing, and a naughty, as it should be, a young child, a boy or a girl and I am playing with him ... My wife and my child of course.

I see myself, how ridiculous I am, fighting with my wife- for a reason I don't know. One of us is angry and the other is trying to appease him/her-> why the anger guys?

I see my son or daughter playing with something and break it, I want to punish him but I am careful with him. I don't want him a coward, afraid of punishment, so what do I do with him? I don't know.

Let him break whatever he wants ... The important thing is that he becomes a "man" and huh ... huh.

Later on, after this sequence of dreams end, which may be ridiculous, you find me, suddenly and for no reason, laughing. So whoever is around me are surprised ... Why I am laughing?? He asks, and I say, as usual, "nothing! I just remembered a joke."

- Tell us the joke so we can laugh with you.

- No need, these are "Military Secrets" - or "Confidential Islamic work" and nothing else is important. So forgive us dear Hani for this absurdity But you are here only to listen, whether you like it or not. And excuse me.

And Peace be up on you.

Tuesday: 20/Jumada
El-'Ula
26/November

Dear Hani 2, I will convey to you a few lines from the words of martyr "Sayid Qutb" from his message "The rejoicing of the spirit" to his sister, a woman of letters, "Aminah Qutb" ... I write it to you, perhaps it will freshen you up.

- I'm no longer frightened of death even if it comes to me at this moment! For I have received much in this life, I mean: I have given!!

Sometimes it's difficult to distinguish between giving and receiving because both have the same significance in the world of spirit! Every time you give, you receive. I don't mean that someone has given me something, rater that I received the same that I gave, because my joy for what I gave is no less than that for those who received.

I'm no longer frightened of death even if it comes to me at this moment- For I have done as much as possible! There are many things that I would like to do if I would live longer but regret will not consume my heart if I couldn't; Others will do them; they will not perish if they were good enough to survive. "So I take comfort in the care taker of this existence that he would not let any good idea to perish."

I'm no longer frightened of death even if it comes to me at this moment! I tried to be charitable as much as I could. As for my sins and mistakes and wrongdoings, I am regretful, I trust God with them and hope for his mercy and forgiveness. As for his punishment, I am not worried about it. I am comforted in that it will be a rightful punishment and a just retribution! I have already gotten used to bear the consequences of my deeds, good or bad. So, I will not be displeased if I get my retribution for my sins, on judgment day.

"Finished"

And dear Hani 2 ... No Comment. Peace.

Wednesday: 21/Jumada
El-'Ula

27/November Time/ Two O'clock PM Pardon me ... The time now is six in the evening ...

First I got busy, but now I come back to you ...in the evening.

Nothing in particular, only thoughts, dreams or ideas ... Or perhaps, and more correctly,

"Semi decisions."

Suddenly and without any introductions, I started thinking about "The Shari'ah Training." It's training in the science of Da'wah [Calling] and for heralds. It Is taught at the "Sada" [PH] camp in addition to the other training, and independently from the first one, "The military training". I don't know why the following was drawn in my mind:

- The Shari'ah Training, then the Military training on Tactics, then a training in "close contact fighting" I dream about it and try to take it even in the "Philippine." with the Mujahidin of the Philippine over there, where I heard from a Philippino brother, who is now in "Afghanistan", that the Mujahidin in his country train hard, to the extent that the person who has been trained for three months is able to handle a professional "Karate" or something like that in these real wonderful Marshal Arts.

As you can see dear Hani 2,

From my conversation with you yesterday and today, you can notice that there is a

contradiction, or more correctly, perplexity.

Sometimes I wish "Martyrdom for the cause of God" hastily, and sometimes you find me

dreaming of big projects to reform myself and completely prepare to serve Islam in all

possible ways.

There are periods that pass by I worry about my self from a change of heart, so I ask God for "Martyrdom". And another moment passes by with strange asceticism towards the world, belittling it, hating it and not caring about it accompanied by hope from God and beautiful dreams about meeting Him, Glory praise to Him. So I hasten martyrdom whatever it might be ... A tank shell, a guided missile explodes near by me or even flying bomb, a bullet from a "Kalashnikov .. Zikiuyak [PH] ... etc." What's important is the martyrdom for the cause of God.

But sometimes, I get enthusiastic to serve Islam, I harbor hatred in a dark way against the enemies of the religion so I wish to do to them what has not been done before. I get enthusiastic to do work which serves Muslims, so you find me drawing plans and wish that I don't die until I do something, provide something and to be effective for my true religion [Islam.]

Thus, I have been between push and pull. I wish, you wish and God does what he wishes. Glory praise to God, whatever he wills it will be. But if it the will of my Lord the almighty and if have a part in it, I will try my best to do something "Almost decided."

One more thing/ Sometimes I set out some things for myself so I force myself to take an oath for it, so I don't leave any room for my weak self to neglect it. So as to tame this "soul" ... As it happened previously in the subject of "dinner meal" which I still keep its special program, that is: "no dinner" despite the end of the period of "adherence" and oath.

4)As for physical exercise, If I skip it in negligence, I would double it the following day. i.e. I do them, in addition to what's for that day

5) If I skip Quran recitation in the morning, I do it in the evening. Or I read it along with the recitation of the following day i.e. two parts not one part only.

As for memorization of Quran, Whether I neglect it or not, Friday is for complete review for all of what I memorize and to affirm the memorization.

Of course these retributions are also for self control and to avoid defeat as it happens often. After the night guarding shift, the dread of cold water prevents me form Wudu' [Ablution]- Where there is no hot water- So I don't wash and pray whatever is left of the Shafa' and Witr prayers.

This program starts tomorrow [IL] Thursday (22/Jumada
El-'Ula) (27/November) God

almighty willing.

And will continue, bound with oath, till Wednesday

[IL]

(30 Sha'ban/1412 Hijri) (4/March/1992 AD) if I live to do it God almighty willing.

And of course binding myself to this with oath means that I adhere to the regiment and it is a retribution not as an atonement for an unfulfilled oath if I didn't do it due to weakness or neglect.

And based on that dear Hani 2, I solemnly swear to God the almighty that I shall adhere to this regiment to the best of my abilities and that I shall carry it out and bind myself to it unless there is an excuse [IL], out of my control, which prevents me from executing it. At that time the oath is not applicable.

Praise be to God the sustainer of the worlds, peace and prayers be upon his faithful profit Muhammad, God's blessing and peace be upon him.

Thus, there is a program, I told you about it, dear "Hani 2" but I didn't adhere to it because of many reasons I told you about several times. There is another reason I didn't mention, or more accurately, I didn't confess about it to you; that is my weakness [IL] and following the desires of the soul, which incites to evil.

Therefore I added some changes or supplemented it to be "in compliance", so the program is:

1- Daily fasting "Mondays and Thursday" + The White Days of every month "13-14-15."

2- Continue with "No-dinner"

3- Observe the following Sunnahs [Prophetic customs]- Prayer of Dhuha, Shafa', like: (6) prostrations after Nightfall prayer and Al-Qiyam, like: (4) prostrations and one Witr prostration after the "Guarding shift" ... And the Sunnahs of Noon, Afternoon, Sunset and Dawn of course.

4- Physical exercise:
1) Legs pushups- At least (40) 1 or 2 T

2) Chest pushups- At least (10-10) - (50) continuous
2) Abdominal pushups- At least (40) 1 or 2 T

Where 1: Morning 2:After Forenoon 3:0 before sleeping.

5- Keeping Quran recitation by reading "1[IL] part" every morning, trying to memorize [IL]or at least review of memorization every Friday.

"And this is by God's will and Praise to God"

Punishments are as follows:

1) Fasting three days for skipping "a day" without an excuse.

2) "No Breakfast" if I had dinner the night before "except days of fasting."

3) Prayer of Forenoon: Double it on the following day

Shafa' and Witr "11 prostrations" becomes "12 prostrations" on the morning of the

following day.

+ Fasting the following day "If it's not a day of fasting originally."

Sunday: 25/Jumada
El-'Ula 1/December

Time: Seven and nine minutes in the evening

And one of the brothers is "calling to prayer" from the top of the semi-destroyed building of the B.M. for the Nightfall prayer ... One moment please so I can join him in his call

Yes Dear Hani 2,

Until today I kept the regiment despite that the circumstances got suddenly mixed up because of the heavy work in collecting wood from the adjacent destroyed villages. Other jobs control the time, it is not time can't controls them.

More importantly,

My condition now is strange. A thick layer of filth covers me ... My hands are completely black, but my arm under my wrest watch is still, some what, clean. My clothes are dirty and unfortunately I am not good in cleaning them, even if I were good at it, I will not find the right time.

Although we have built a special place for bathing and "particularly wash from ejaculation" [Ejaculation is a major ritual impurity in Islam]. And this was of course based on my suggestion and because of my repulsion as well. I often face this problem of washing because of ejaculation, at least more than others which bothers me a lot since it is not the appropriate circumstances.

I would say, despite having this place [for bathing], I still can't take a decent and complete bath to remove the built up filth as I used to do previously in "Najm Al-Din" center from time to time.

And God is the one to be relied on. We now live close to being nomads or the live of the people in the jungle ... Sometimes it's a good feeling ... You feel that you are living ...

... Without any roof, and in the open ... Even if you were in a trench on some great mountain, so at least there is no door ... You are in the open.

And nothing else.

And peace be upon you.

From Hani 1

[IL]

Wednesday/

* 28/Jumada El-'Ula * 4/December *

-Pardon me ... Nothing ...

I felt a non urgent need to write to you, but I couldn't find what to say ... As if the pen

declared disobedience, so I have no choice but to concur so that it doesn't get angry.

Peace.

Thursday

29/Jumada
El-'Ula 5/December Location: B.M. center inside the sleeping quarters Time: Six AM

The weather is somewhat cold, dark clouds covering the horizon, and everyone here is sleeping.

We had prayed the morning prayer a little while ago. As soon as we finished prayer, everyone went back to bed and got wrapped up in their heavy covers. Cold always gives you the feeling of the need to hide and sleep. But for me, cold gives me the feeling of the need to love and perhaps creates a romantic mood. - Ridiculous thing in a place like this ...Isn't it?

Anyway! Today is Thursday and that's the day we were told to be completely ready to advance one step forward. But it seems that something has changed because it is "stand still" and this is of course a chance for the enemy, "Dashmin" [PH] as the Afghans call it. such that the enemy fortifies their position and receives Military provisions ...

... From "Kabul" The capital of Afghanistan and where is the communist governing center. Although the asphalt road between "Qardiz" [PH] and "Kabul" is seized by the Mujahideen, they keep it under their control for a while until the city is blocked and then it is quickly regained by the enemy ... And so on. And God is the one to be relied on.

Nothing else ... At least for today.

Hani [Signature]

Sunday:

2/Jumada
El-Thani 8/December Time: 10:00 AM.

Yesterday I and one of the brothers had advanced to where the mountain overlooking the enemy is. This mountain is where the Mujahideen are centered on its top in mud rooms they built recently because of the weather changes. Four individuals from our group- The late Abu Banan's center- had prepared for themselves a simple room to protect them from rain, shrapnel and other things.

Anyway, I and one of the brothers moved forward with the car carrying the necessary rations for them. We had to go through a distance on the asphalt road exposed to the enemy's tanks fire ...

However, the thick veil of darkness and fog was very useful. Thank God, we advanced very fast despite the continuous shootings on the road where the shells are spread left and right and the flying shrapnel hitting the car violently. Until we arrived at the foot hill of the mountain and the driver had to drive to the middle of the mountain which is also entirely exposed area and vulnerable to the shelling of the "PK" and "Zikoyak" [heavy weapons.]

When the enemy assailed with their lethal weapons in our direction, it's.as if they suspected the presence of a car, so the bullets chipped in the rocks next to us. We moved the car with difficulty due to the roughness of the road in addition it is being a rugged uphill. During these moments we were laughing ... If the bullets missed you they were not going to miss the car, but we were laughing. I swear, if the enemy knew what we were doing, they would have died with a head stroke from their fury.

Anyway/ That's not what I wanted to talk to you about.

Note that today is "Monday" I was distracted from completing the writing yesterday and today I am doing so ... "I am now in the B.M. center"

What I wanted from you is to tell you about some developments in this regiment that is scheduled till "Ramadan." After these few days of trying it, I found that it's possible to complete it, or more accurately, adding to it so it becomes as the following: The previous oath and "binding" is also applicable.

1/ Fasting- Mondays and Thursdays- and the three "White Days" of every month

- A' [first letter of word "retribution".].-> Fasting 3 days for skipping a day without excuse, and carrying out the 3 "White Days" if skipped with an excuse.

2/No dinner meal even if the following day is a "fasting" day

- A'-> No Breakfast for the day if I had dinner,, and if it's a fasting day, don't break the fasting with a rich meal in that day. - Occasions are exceptions-

3/ Observing [4 Forenoon Prayer] [Shafa' and Witr after Nightfall Prayer, and after daily guard duties, 11 prostrations] [Nawafil Prayer before and after obligatory prayers] -A'--> Forenoon prayer in the following day-With or without excuse- Shafa' and Witr to be carried out on the following day, like I2 prostrations with an excuse. If there is no excuse, they are to be carried out in addition to fasting the following day.

4/Physical exercise [Legs pushups30-30] [for Chest-10-10 to 50 and up] [for the abdomen 50] + morning jogging in addition to try to perform the same exercises in the

evening

-A'--> double them if there is no excuse.

5/ Keeping of Quran recitation- One part- After morning prayer and recitation for memorization in the evening- Between sunset and nightfall- And Friday for reviewing. As for the -A' -> doubling on the following day.

.And Praise God.

Friday/

7- Jumada
El-Thani

13- December

Time: Eight thirty PM.

And Now I write to you from the observation mountain perfectly facing the enemy i.e. the first line ... The line of fire in Qardiz [PH]. About [IL] two days ago, I left the B.M. center to advance to the first line passing the mortar shell center that belongs to us, on the way here.

Currently the situation is: centering the position on the mountain inside these small rooms and receiving the fire of mortar shells, tanks and bullets, and leaving after that.

The enemy is [IL] directly in front of us with their twelve tanks and does not cease to blaze us with their fire, with shrapnel falling left and right, beside the buzzing bullets above our heads or at our feet.

Despite the difficulty of the situation and the location, the brothers had prepared a special place as a bathroom "restroom" where a person can use it, to relieve himself, and to "wash up" but in haste and anxiety- I mean washing up from impurity of course-Actually I don't know how the Afghanis do they respond to the call of nature in the mountain. In the past, I mean when we were on the mountain for the first time and during the life of "Abu-Bannan", we used to sleep in the open, just by the side of the big rocks to protect ourselves from the shrapnel. One had to wait until nightfall to respond to the call of nature, because the place is completely uncovered, so you can't go to the "open" during that time ... You have no choice but to be patient.

But now, and thank God, things are going well.

The small rooms have roofs reinforced against cold, rain, and shrapnel of course, although a mortar shell form the enemy is enough to make the room, and whoever is in it, history. But praise God, He's the protector [IL].Also there is a washroom and you can wash up from impurity. With regard to water, we are forced to descend down to the water stream, once or twice every day and thank God, we fill special containers and then bring them up.

Nothing but waiting ... Either the enemy advances to our positions or we will advance to theirs.

We ask God for forgiveness and health And Oh Lord.

Hani [Signature]

Note ...

Pardon me for the bad luck

And lack of order, because the light from the oil lamp is faint and I am waiting my turn

for the guard shift. . . in a sort while.

And Peace.

The Protector: is not one of the 99 attributes of Allah.

Saturday/

8/ Jumada
El-Thani or El-Thaniyah according to the calendar.

14/ December

Greeting, without an occasion, to you dear Hani 2 who I really long to see although it is better that I don't see you.

More importantly- And nothing is really important- But I can make something out of nothing and say it's important, it could be like that only through my blurred vision. Pardon me, this is only an attempt to take you lightly, in fact I found the diary notebook next to me, and I only like to be peevish towards you. I don't have anything to say to you and because I'm idle now; it's siesta time. Thank God I read my recitation of Quran, carried out the scheduled physical exercises and did all what I am supposed to do. Additionally the situation is quiet now, nothing other than the enemy is conducting light random shooting. Therefore I have free time and since you are here, only to bear with me, so I decided to let my burden rest on you.

The time now is: two and fifty three minutes 2:53, the place is: a small room, the weather is very good to the extent that I took off my cotton undergarments which is usually used to protect against the cold; only my Afghani outfit is good enough to cover my skin. The wind is completely quiet, and the sky is clear, except for some small clouds. The snowy mountains are visible from a distance, I am at the climax of ecstasy and there is a strange tranquility filling the place, uninterrupted except by a sound of a sudden explosion coming from a tank [IL] mortar shell, perhaps this is the calm preceding the storm. Also the sun is present just to complete the splendor of this painting ...

... Which is taking shape in the horizon. Although I learned not to trust three things:

1.  Winter Sun

2. The tears of a woman ...and alligator

3. The smile of [IL] an enemy [IL]

Beside the calmness of the sea ... Although I have never experienced the latter, except through stories, books and television.

More importantly- And nothing is actually important-

I still have brief dreams of a wife and a child from time to time, even when I am here on

the battle front line [IL] and under fire.

Actually I ask God for Martyrdom and to fight for his cause, but it's also a fact, I don't deny that sometimes I picture my child and my wife especially when one of the brothers came form "Tunisia", he's married and has a child and used to live in England.

He used to tell me much about his young son, his naughtiness, his beautiful gestures, etc. ... Etc

Note: I say ... my child ... Although I don't have a child. And I say ... my wife ... Although I don't have a wife either ... It's merely a casual expression.

And nothing else.

Hani [Signature]

[IL]

Thursday: 27 or 28/Shawal/1412 Hijri
Corresponding to 30 or 1/May/1992 AD

Dear Hani 2,

Finally after "unintentional" hesitation which lasted for too long since I wrote to you a last XXX paper on "Eighth of Jumada
El-Thaniyah/1412 Hijri" "14/December/1991 AD" [IL]

i.e. nearly "4" months or more [IL] during which, I have not written to you a single word

[IL]

in this notebook "Diary notebook." Because [IL] I simply couldn't write to you [IL] or

anyone else

*Monday: 20- August- 1992 AD.

Pardon me, dear Hani 2:

Pardon me ...Pardon me for the "unintentional" delay once more. [IL]

But I am still unable to write. Pardon me for too much scratch marks. If you know, you would have [IL] excused me.

Today is Thursday

23/July/1992 AD. "I don't know what is the Hijri date today"

The time now is approximately Eight O'clock.

I still try ... [IL] Try hard to write to you ... But!!! "Look at the signs of the torn pages [IL] before this page"

[IL]

Also I will try if it is God's willing, to organize the subject by dates. [IL] and through

telling the story you will understand [IL] everything [IL] if it is the will of God the

almighty.

* First: The reason that I was gone away from you since "i/December/1991 AD" until "27/Shawal/1412 Hijri- 30/May/1992 AD" then till "20-August-1992 AD" to today "23/July/1991 AD"

Note: I apologize for writing the dates once in Hijri and another in Gregorian, the "calendar" controls [IL] that.

- More importantly, the period I was gone till today is "seven months"

* Second: The reason of disorder and scratches. And the reason [IL] the continuous monotone narration, and beside the "Syntax mistake." I am no longer able to control my pen or even myself. And other things, I will tell you about it and I will try to be brief "unintentionally"

And therefore because it's a new start ...

[IL] -In the name of God the most compassionate the most merciful-Deer Hani 2, Greetings

First: on this date, "and I am not sure [IL] about this date" ... Anyway it is :

16/JumadaEl-Thani/412

22 [IL] December/1992 AD

On that day and while ...

28/July/1992 AD

More importantly: I told you that on 22~December/1992 AD ... On that [IL] day: while -And I have not told you yet-So:

While I was performing ablution, "The place: observation mountain, first line [IL] facing the enemy where [IL] only "1" Kilometer or [IL] even less, and God knows separates between us "Mujahideen and the enemy" where we can see them and they can see us [IL]. And we shoot at the enemy individuals with "Kalash" [Kalashnikov], while [IL] they are shooting [IL] at us [IL] with "the tank" [IL] and other things.

So, while I was performing ablution for the afternoon prayer, and a group of Arab youths close to our center ...

"It's a small building for sleeping. Insulated against the cold ... [IL] Anti sharpnels ..."-I think I told you about it previously.

Suddenly ... And without any introduction ... It went all dark ... I was no longer [IL] able to see anything [IL] ... I also couldn't hear any sound ... I was even unable to move, any longer ... Suddenly, as everything started, it all ended. I saw, as if in a dream, the guys were in a prostrating position ... Smoke and dust ... many noises ... Then, I felt that I was falling down, then I couldn't see anything ... But "I was hearing the sounds"

I regained my vision once again, lo and behold, [IL] I am in the room ... Many sounds ... This time, [IL] I can see clearly as I was lying down on the floor while the brothers were examining me ... Turning me around, and I don't know what's going on ... Every thing happened suddenly and I am unaware of anything ... But I was unable to talk ... 1 tried to speak but my tongue couldn't carry the words out, and I don't know why?

I saw on of the brothers [IL] padding cotton on my head ... "was he wiping my sweat?"...! don't think so!! And I saw one of the brothers preparing [IL] a syringe ... I realized that it was "Sesegon, SeSegon" "It seems that this injection is given to the injured for sedation and as a pain killer. [IL]

More importantly:

What happened is that I had a "head" injury [IL] a mortar shell exploded suddenly near by us ... "Smoke, dust and terrifying sound." [IL] But thank God, nothing happened, and we returned to our locations [IL] laughing and making comments.

I held the ablution pitcher and I started laughing and making comments myself. But suddenly I could no longer see anything [IL] and I could no longer hear a sound. I even was no longer able to move, as if I were an electric device and the electricity is disconnected from it!!

Suddenly again a second rocket shell exploded at the same distance or even closer "I knew these information [IL] latter" I was hit by a sharp and hot shrapnel that traveled to the depth of my scull [IL]. "Very small [IL], the size of a fly ... I didn't feel anything except darkness.

More importantly ... The brothers transported me quickly to the rear positions and at each position [IL] I got an anesthetic injection [IL].

Later I knew [IL] that the person injured in the head shouldn't be injected with anesthetics especially the "Sesegon [PH]". God is the helper.

... And from center to center, then to the [IL] town of "Khost" which is the city that God opened for the Mujahideen last year after It took [IL] so many martyrs, " [IL] Afghans. Arabs and other nationalities.".

More importantly: The situation stabilized in "Peshawar"- Pakistan- and briefly, [IL] I had a surgery in my head and the shrapnel was removed".

-I woke up from my unconsciousness [IL] and with time passing by-a day or two- I found myself unable [IL] to speak. I tried [IL] to read one of the news bulletins, and I was unable to do so, or more correctly, I was unable to understand anything ... [IL] I tried to read a paper in the E language, I was unable to understand anything as well. "In Urdu, which I don't speak ... Of course, I didn't understand anything"

Few days went by [IL] and I am still in the hospital, I don't speak, not even a word., walking in the hospital corridors [IL], with my head bandaged, moving with difficulty [IL], and putting both my hands "left and right" in my pockets.

The hospital garments ... Are blue ...

And in spite of the people around me shivering to death from cold [IL], I seem refreshed

with the cold temperature.

And even though [IL] the male nurses advise me to rest [IL] in my bed ... I used to answer

them with a smile [IL] that expresses nothing ...

[IL]

And with time, I discovered that in addition to losing my ... speech [IL] "I had difficulty

pronouncing some letters" ...

And ... My inability to read

I discovered that I am, also, unable to write [IL]!! [IL] (did you: notice how I write to

you, now)?

-In brief ... the injury seemed to be [IL] in the memory ... "or parts of it"

In the beginning: I used to hear the voice calling to prayers ... I do not feel except that

there is something that I should do ... without doing anything ... just ... a feeling ...

[IL]

And little by little, I decided to pray ... but ... That day I couldn't

remember anything at al from the prayer

-I made a dry ablution with a rock "because there was no [IL] dust in the hospital ...

Then I sit on my bed ... and do the prayer movements while "sitting" without speaking a word except" forgive me and my father" [IL]

And truly I do not know why this sentence came out and not any other- and I repeat it in every prayer and prostration ... prostration and bowing ...

- And with time ... I left the hospital ... to the street to be surprised [IL] with the crowded conditions ... The cars and the annoyances and scary numbers of people men, women, children and old people ... So I was as if I did not see a city before ... And perhaps it felt like that because of the short period, truly, inside Afghanistan between the mountains ... and between ... the men ... men only ... "no women or children"

And myself being finished up, almost ... [IL]

This is a summary [IL] of this period and I will follow it up, [IL] God willing ... [IL] with some stories ... and small events ... the way I remember ...

[IL]

26/JULY / 1992. AD ... Note:

* The memory ... I got it back "or most of it" thank God ...

But ... I still cannot remember much of my "computer" studies"

* The speech ...' Thank God, I now speak in a way that is almost normal [IL], " but ... I am still stuttering and hesitating in my talking "sometimes" ... And sometimes the words [IL] that I intend do not come out

So I try to get similar ones out [IL], or something like that ... And I think it is [IL] a matter of time ... God willing ...

*  The writing ... As you see [IL] I am facing some [IL] difficulties in writing "so I try to write a sentence or a word so I have to write it "sometimes" on another sheet of paper as a notebook" ... That is apart of the terrible spelling mistakes ... So help is from God I do not observe [IL] the many scribbles" ... And this is in the Arabic language or in English so i do not think that I can [IL] write well now ...

* As for reading ... thank God ... from [IL]

and I read [IL] in a good way and thank God ... in Arabic [IL] As for the E language ... help

is from God ... [IL]

This also is in addition to: a small gap in my skull that is still "not [IL] closed ...

Even though the hair covers it so the injured skin [IL] does not appear

26/JuIy/1992AD ...

The time now is" eight ... in the evening ...

And I am still with you in presenting the past so that I remind you or remind myself "you

and I are the same" ...

And so you do not forget 'every small and big thing during this period of " seven months"

And truly ... this period was full of many "important" events which may even be decisive

in the [IL] future [IL] of the Afghani and Islamic jihad, ...

And through the story telling you will be able to ... understand ... and the issues will get

clearer more and more ...

But this time I will put ... titles to every situation of memory.

And I will try to place every subject with the date that it happened in it.

Hani1 [IL]

Sorry: The lack of cohesion of the words and sentences in addition to the spelling mistakes and ... the frequent writing-offs exhaust me ... [IL] But I do not say God, oh Lord:

27/JULY/1992 AD

And the day is Monday:

And ... Dear Hani 2 ...

I will start today with you about:

Chicok ... Chikiyo ... Chick ... ! .

"Really, I cannot write it down and it is the first title of my memory ..."

[IL]

* *                           Czechoslovakia

*                              and ... Constantinople

- When I finally left the hospital ... to the "house of martyrs" ... or the hospitality of the Levantine lands " even though there were a lot, thank God, of nationalities that were in it. which is a good thing ... "

I entered with a party .. I was the only deaf one in it "as the proverb says" a deaf person in a party", meaning in a wedding party

I went in distributing "silly" smiles which express nothing ... and I took my place in "my bed" in the patients' room' ... much to the surprise of the patients [IL] There were those who look at me, not expecting that I am a patient at all ... And my cold smiles [IL] make the other person facing me think that I am full of myself ... but I was not trying to explain because, so simply, I am unable [IL] to talk ... to explain ...

Anyway: with time [IL], I got acquainted with a few of the brothers ...

I would speak with them as much as I could ... one word or two words ...

A "non-comprehending" sentence ... or ... two sentences ... and so on

While they make remarks on my erroneous words [IL] quickly ...

And with time ...also ... we would sit down in the patients' room for a long period, and they

would be talking [IL] or listening to one of them chanting some Islamic chants ... with his

beautiful voice ...

And I would enjoy their company or read in my book "as much as I could read "

So it [IL] happened that everyone put his attention to correct an erroneous word that