TRIUMPH . . . (clockwise from left) Ali in Baghdad hospital; the city under fire; learning to paint with his feet in Kuwait; in his Man-U tee with Sun’s Sharon; showing off his soccer skills; Ali and Ahmed in their wedding suits; with fiancée Ankam; and with Sharon, below
–WORLD EXCLUSIVE By
SHARON HENDRY
Pictures: MARC GIDDINGS
AS one of the most badly injured casualties of the 2003 Iraq war, few believed Ali Abbas would survive to celebrate his next birthday.
But today the handsome 21-yearold proudly poses in the new sharp suit in which he will MARRY. He says: “I suppose you could say I’ve been on a long journey but boarding the flight home to Baghdad tomorrow to prepare for my wedding will be one of the biggest steps I’ve ever taken. “I’m nervous but excited at the same time. There were moments when I thought that getting married was something that would never happen to me.” Nine years ago the shocking pictures of Ali’s burned and limbless torso beamed across the world made him the iconic face of the conflict. He was just 12 years old when he lost both arms and suffered 60 per cent burns in a US missile attack. He also lost a staggering 16 members of his family, including his parents. Ali still remembers the terrifying moment that changed his life. He said: “The ceiling and the wall fell on us and the fire was all over the house. I could hear my family screaming and felt fire on my body.”
myView By SHARON HENDRY Xxxx0
Shy
A taxi driver neighbour eventually plucked him from the burning rubble. His tragic plight touched millions of people around the world and when his medics in Iraq put out an appeal, he was airlifted to Kuwait for lifesaving surgery. Ali was eventually flown to Britain later that year where he was fitted with two artificial arms by specialists at Queen Mary Hospital in London. He passed a UK citizenship test and formally became a British citizen in June 2010. Despite learning to call Britain ‘home’, Ali has made annual trips back to Iraq to be reunited with his surviving sister and extended family members. It was during one of these visits that he was reacquainted with pretty childhood friend Ankam Hamza. Ali recalls: “I remember Ankam as a child because she is the daughter of a distant relative called Mohammed who was the first person to care for me both in the Kuwaiti hospital and later when I was flown to Britain. “For a long time my injuries meant that I never even thought about getting married or finding a lady who would love me but then a visit home in 2010 changed everything. “Ankam is friends with my 18-yearold sister Hedel and came to our
family compound with her. “My sister joked with her: ‘Ali is single. Perhaps you can marry him!’ Apparently she said immediately: ‘I wouldn’t mind that at all.’ “I was too shy to speak to her directly so I asked Ankam’s mother for permission to talk to her privately about the possibility of dating and getting engaged. “Two days later her family called back to give me their blessing so we got to know one another over two months that summer and decided we wanted to be together. “I was frank with her and told her: ‘I am disabled — you have to be aware of that and be sure that you can accept it’. She simply told me: ‘I accept everything.’” Ali and Ankam,
18, got engaged last summer and took part in an official ceremony that included a blessing from the Koran by an imam. Ali explains: “In Iraq we throw an engagement party designed to show the couple off in front of their families. “It was very emotional for me because I thought of my parents a lot. “My mum used to tell me how she would dance with joy when I got married and I wish so much that she could meet Ankam and be there on my wedding day. “Ankam arrived wearing a beautiful blue dress and looked incredible. She has a great sense of humour and is a really kind person. The only downside is that she doesn’t like football but I
think I can soon change that.” Ali, who is a fanatical Manchester United supporter, will be reunited with Ankam in Baghdad next week to plan their we wedding ceremony. They will later apply for a visa that will allow Ankam to accompany Ali back to Britain.
Dream
Ali says: “I will always be an Iraqi in my heart but I am British too now. “I need to go on with my life and that is very much in Britain. I have lots of friends here and I have become part of British society. “Both Ankam and I dream of having children and it is where we would like to raise them. Britain has
been very kind to me and I would like my kids to experience that culture.” Ali’s severe disability means he still needs the help of a carer to wash and dress although he has become adept at using his feet to write, draw and use a computer. He says: “I’ve had prosthetic limbs fitted but I find them difficult to use and uncomfortable. “I try to do my best and I’m always working towards being more independent. But there are still some tasks that I find very hard and there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t wish I had my arms back. “But I just have to accept the reality of these things and get on with life.” Ali hopes to build a career
doing charity work. And he is adamant that he will not allow his lack of mobility to affect his marriage, adding wryly: ‘If people ask: ‘How will you hug your wife?’ I will answer: ‘It doesn’t matter because I am a good kisser.’” Meanwhile, in a wonderful twist to the latest chapter in Ali’s life story, his closest friend Ahmed Farhan will perform best man duties at his wedding. Ahmed, now 23, was also badly injured by a separate missile strike in the 2003 conflict and lost an arm and a leg. The two boys, who were previously strangers, found themselves fighting for life in the same Kuwaiti hospital and formed a deep friendship after
both were brought to Britain by an amputee charity. Ahmed, who is also hoping to marry his own Iraqi fiancée on the forthcoming trip to Iraq, has selflessly devoted much of the last nine years to caring for his friend at their small home in southwest London. Ali says: “Ahmed and I are more than brothers. We have both been through almost exactly the same experience. “He has been there for me every step of the way as my friend and my carer. I trust him implicitly. “We do everything together so we might as well get married together.”
IN 2003, soon after the Iraq war began, The Sun dispatched me and photographer Paul Edwards to report on the casualties being airlifted into Kuwait. I can still smell the disinfected wards, picture the horrific wounds and hear the cries of pain, loss and devastation that rang out across the corridors. And then there was a boy called Ali. Bereft of his entire family and bandaged from head to toe, he embodied the brutal reality of the war that no Allied leader wanted to be reminded of. The extent of his injuries meant he should have been one more fatal statistic of Shock and Awe – but his eyes told a different story. They burned not with hatred and fear but a sheer determination to live. Journalists aren’t supposed to get attached to the subject of their stories but Ali’s spirit was intoxicating. So too was his friend Ahmed’s, also horrifically injured with who he formed an instant bond in hospital. Soon the boys and I became friends and after they made Britain their home we spent weekends playing football and laughing as they tried to teach me Arabic. When I saw Ali and Ahmed in their wedding suits to pose for these pictures, I could barely recognise the men they have become. They are two of the greatest role models I know I will ever meet. Their wives are lucky women.