In this Monday, May 18, 2015 photo, Falah Abdullah Jamil poses for a portrait in Eski Mosul, northern Iraq. He was held as a prisoner by the Islamic State group for selling cigarettes - which are banned by the militants - and was tortured while in jail. When they found the contraband in his trunk, he said, "I swear, it's out of hunger," pleading with the IS fighters. He told them he was the only breadwinner for his extended family and was helping his neighbors as well. |
ESKI MOSUL, Iraq
(AP) -- It was a heart-racing moment. The cigarette smuggler was
stuck in line at a checkpoint as, up ahead, Islamic State militants were
searching cars. He was running a big risk: The militants have banned
smoking and lighting up is punishable with a fine or broken finger.
Selling cigarettes can be a death sentence.
Falah Abdullah Jamil, 30, relied on his quick wits and silver tongue.
When
the fighters came to his vehicle at the checkpoint leading to his home
village of Eski Mosul in northern Iraq, they asked what he had in his
trunk.
"Nothing," he lied.
They popped open the trunk and found the 125 cartons of cigarettes he'd brought from Rabia, a town near the border with Syria.
"I
swear, it's out of hunger," he said he pleaded with the men. The father
of six told them he was the only
breadwinner for his extended family
and was helping his neighbors as well.
The
fighters took him to the checkpoint commander, who warned Jamil he'd go
to prison and his car would be confiscated. Jamil promised never to do
it again. "Just let me go this time for the sake of my children," he
said. "If I don't have money, what can I do? Should I steal? If I steal,
you'll cut off my hand."
In an interview with
The Associated Press in May, Jamil sat in his modest living room,
describing how he survived nearly seven months of IS rule before the
extremist group was run from town by Kurdish fighters.
The
checkpoint commander ordered his subordinates out of the room, Jamil
recalled. Once they were alone, he made his offer: "I will let you go if
you give me cigarettes." Jamil asked him what brand. "Anything, just
give me two cartons," the commander replied.
The
commander "said he hadn't had a smoke for three days so when he saw the
cigarettes, he was very happy," Jamil said with a laugh.
Iraqi
civilians living under IS rule in Mosul, the group's biggest
stronghold, told the AP that the militants actually control the
cigarette black market, banning smoking in public while privately
controlling the sale of cigarettes at an inflated price. They spoke
anonymously for fear of retribution.
Saad
Eidou, 25, a displaced Iraqi from the town of Sinjar near the Syrian
border, said that like everyone else, militants smoke in private. The
cigarettes come in through Syria, where movement in and out of Turkey
and non-IS areas is easier.
"They brought in
cigarettes from Syria, where you probably won't pay more than 250 dinars
($0.20) for a pack, but they were selling it here for 1,000 dinars
($0.80)," said Bilal Abdullah, another resident of Eski Mosul. With IS
gone, he took deep draws from a cigarette in public as he spoke.
In
another incident, Jamil said, he was accused of selling cigarettes by a
member of the Hisba, the vice patrol that ruthlessly enforces the
group's regulations. Jamil denied it profusely: "I told him, yes, I used
to, but I stopped selling. I told him no one sells anymore since you
have forbidden it."
The Hisba official asked if any cigarettes were in Jamil's house. Jamil said no.
"He said, `I will go and inspect your house, and if I find one pack of cigarettes I will execute you.'"
Jamil's bluff had just gotten more dangerous. He had 1,600 cartons of cigarettes hidden at home, he said with a wicked smile.
But he stuck by his story. "I told him, `Go ahead, I haven't got anything."
Apparently convinced, the Hisba official had him sign a document vowing to never sell cigarettes or risk execution.
"I
signed it - but I sold again. I didn't stop," Jamil said. "We had no
flour, no rice, no food. I have children, and it was winter and was cold
and there was no oil, no gas. ... We were living a hellish tragedy."