A blue towel was our precious treasure after each of us had lost all of what we have and all of what we built in our lives when we were arrested.
It was the first and only towel that got sneaked to that Syrian high security military jail, which is located on top of very cold mountain, no heating, no cloth to cover our naked bodies, and not enough food.
The guards punished us everyday by throwing cold water on us while beating our bodies with thick sticks and cables. That was how our daily life looked like there. Each day we loose a friend, an activist, a soldier of FSA. Death is very common and usual.
The blue towel was the tool we had to keep our bodies dry after the punishment sessions, in a cell with 27 other prisoners I was named a hero because I succeeded to smuggle the towel in a very dangerous and lucky strike.
In the car that took us to that house of dead, Jamal (fake name) said to me:
“As long as we are together there won’t be fear, we will take care of each other”, and we ended up in the same cell!
We took care of each other, we had long conversations, built projects, traveled the world in our dreams, and most important kept the towel clean.
After a while the cell door opened, they shouted my name and I was being moved to a better jail that is filled with towels, but Jamal was kept in the cold prison.
At that moment I made my worst mistake ever. For no reason I took the towel with me, keeping Jamal and the 26 other heroes in the cell without a towel.
In my new jail I can buy as much towels as I want and there are no punishment sessions. 8 months after, Jamal died, and I wasn’t near him to take care of each others, I didn’t even keep the blue towel to dry his body!