April 11th widow says terrorists destroyed her life

10/04/2008

On April 11th, 2007, young bride Nacira Djemli became a widow when her husband was killed in the Algiers bombing. Within days, she lost the twin babies she was expecting. One year later, she talks with Magharebia about what happens when dreams are destroyed by terrorists.

By Achira Mammeri for Magharebia in Algiers – 10/04/08

[Achira Mammeri] The death of policeman Sofiane Djemli in the April 11th, 2007 terrorist attacks dashed the hopes and dreams of his wife, Nacira. Two days after her husband's funeral, the shock caused her to lose the twins she had been carrying.

When asked her name, the young Algerian woman falters. "My maiden name or my married name?" she asks. We leave the choice to her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she gives the married name she took at the age of 23. It is, alas, a name to which she now clings in vain. Fate made her a widow in her prime. Her tragedy reflects the suffering of an entire nation inflicted by the barbarity of terrorism.

Nacira Djemeli is now 25 years old. Life was going well for her until Wednesday, April 11th, 2007, when she lost her policeman husband, 35-year-old Sofiane Djemli, in the blast which rocked the prime minister’s office in Algiers. Nacira has kept her pretty engagement ring set with a pink stone on her left ring finger. She cannot accept the fact that she has lost her husband forever: "I’ll never take this ring off my finger. Never. Sofiane will always be a part of me. I will never forget him", she insists.

When the couple first met seven years ago, they vowed to spend their whole lives together. But the marriage only lasted for 21 short months before Sofiane lost his life, leaving his wife suffering in silence.

Nacira began telling us about that black day, taking care not to let a single tear fall. "I got up early that day, as usual. I had breakfast with my husband before he left for work."

Then tragedy struck.

"Two hours later, a neighbour hurried to my house to tell me that a bomb had gone off at the prime minister’s office."

Although it is heart-rending and painful for her, Nacira continues to tell her story with astounding bravery: "For several hours we didn’t hear any news of my husband. Then the security services told us he was out of danger."

They were wrong.

She only learned later what happened. "My husband had sustained a fatal blow to the back of his neck, and unfortunately he couldn’t be saved," she says.

A police guard, Sofiane had been on duty that day. He felt unwell and could have taken the day off, "but his reliability and devotion to his work made him ignore his conjunctivitis," Nacira explains. "I should have made him stay at home. I should have stopped him going. He would have been with me now. Sometimes I get this strange feeling that I’m to blame," she says.

"You know, he always used to tell me: 'Nacira, I’d like to see what you’ll be like when you’re thirty.' I told him 'be patient, you’ve just got another five years to wait. They’ll go by in a flash.' I never realised this would turn out to be nothing more than a dream.'"

"Terrorists destroyed my life; they’ve stolen my youth and everything I held dear in life. I spent the happiest days of my life with my husband. He was a lovely man, very kind. He would never have done anything to hurt anyone. What gave anyone the right to take his life? What gave them the right to take him away from everyone who loved him?"

These are questions which have gone unanswered for a year. But Nacira’s misfortune did not end there. Four days after her husband died, she lost her twins.

"I was two months pregnant," she says. "I was actually expecting twins. My husband was over the moon when he found out. We’d even chosen names: Aroua for the girl and Imad for the boy. But sadly I lost them two days after Sofiane’s funeral. It was a terrible shock."

She wishes she could have kept just one of them.

Nacira cannot find it in herself to forgive the terrorists. "Never, never, never," she declares. "I will never forget the evil they did. Because of them all the joy has gone out of my life. They’ve ruined my life and those of thousands of Algerian families."

It has been one year. Nacira plans to spend April 11th with her family. She does not want to attend the memorial ceremony for the victims of the suicide bombing.

"I don’t have the courage. I can’t go back there again, it’s too hard."