For the Love of Nadia - My daughter was kidnapped by her father and taken to Libya. This is my heart-wrenching true story of my quest to bring her home. Sarah Taylor
no end to the trouble that this man was getting into, but I really couldn’t believe this of my husband. I rang my mum and the two of us rushed off to the pizza place in Leigh, where Fawzi was working. He wasn’t there, but I knew Mohammed – the man that Fawzi had supposedly threatened – and accosted him: ‘What the hell’s going on?’
Fawzi had apparently become angry with Mohammed because he had invested £3,000 in the pizza business, but was seeing no return for his money. In a drunken argument, he had threatened Mohammed but it turned out that Mohammed had information that was much more interesting to me. While I was there, Mohammed told me that Fawzi was having an affair with a woman called Alison. I told him that I thought I knew who that might be.
When I got home, I decided to tackle Fawzi but he argued back that he didn’t know anyone called Alison and told me that it was Mohammed who was having the affair. No matter what I said and whatever my accusations, Fawzi still denied he was seeing another woman and he soon stormed back out of the house again.
There was only one way to sort this out: I had to outsmart Fawzi so I rang Mohammed and gave him the number on Fawzi’s mobile, which I presumed was Alison’s. I asked him to ring her and then let me know what she said about Fawzi.
Some days later, Mohammed got back to me and said he had spoken to Alison. By now, she was clearly getting fed up with Fawzi’s lying and all the intrigue. She told Mohammed that she had received texts from Fawzi and even Valentine cards that he had sent her. Alison also had an itemised phone bill listing all her calls to him at various times. She had agreed to give them all to Mohammed, who later passed them over to me. I think Alison was upfront about this as she had also become fed up with Fawzi and was now as angry as I was. I think he also owed her money.
I now had the evidence to challenge Fawzi but, when I showed him the Valentine cards, he denied having signed them and even said that it wasn’t his writing. He also denied the telephone calls to Alison and said that he had lent his mobile sim card to Mohammed. Of course, this was all nonsense and I realised then that I was married to a compulsive liar. My head was all over the place and I really didn’t think I could believe a word that he said. No matter what I accused him of, he would just deny everything. At times I even felt like I was going mad.
Just like the rape accusation, two years previously, this case was also dropped so that Fawzi was now free to leave the country. Then shortly before Christmas in 2005, he told me that his mother was ill again and that he had to travel to Libya. He didn’t think he’d be back in time for the holiday celebrations. In a way, I was quite relieved. I told my parents that Fawzi wouldn’t be with us for Christmas – to be honest, they weren’t particularly upset. I also told them that I didn’t want the situation to spoil the festivities – we were just not going to talk about him during Christmas. I really wanted to make it a special day for Nadia, then three, and I was determined that we were going to enjoy ourselves despite the effect that Fawzi was having on our family. Nadia didn’t seem to miss him and didn’t talk about her dad, but I made sure she knew that the reason he wasn’t with us for the holiday was that he had to look after his own mother. I didn’t want to turn her against him – even though she was still very young. I said that in the New Year I would decide what I was going to do. Mum and Dad told me that they would support me in any decision I made, but it was obvious that they hoped that I would end the marriage: they had lost the respect for my husband that they’d once had and they just wanted him gone.
While Fawzi was in Tripoli, I found correspondence in his coat pocket addressed to a woman called Alison. Well, what a surprise! I’m not sure whether I should have opened it, but of course I did. Both letters were sent from a high-street building society in Wigan. The first letter stated: ‘Under the circumstances you have been suspended until further notice’; the other letter advised Alison that a date had been set for her industrial tribunal and that she was advised to have legal representation. I couldn’t understand why Fawzi was in possession of these letters, although of course I now knew of his links to the mysterious Alison.
I immediately went to the local police station and told them that I believed my husband was having an affair with the recipient of these letters. It was pretty clear she had been suspended for stealing money from the building society. In light of all the letters sent to our address to men I had never heard of, I also suspected Fawzi of using false identities to obtain money. The copper on duty was grateful for my intervention, but said that the correct procedure was for my concerns to be reported to the bank in question. They should then contact the Fraud Squad, at which point the police might become involved.
The following day, I went to the building society and demanded an interview with the manager. She was taken aback that I knew so much about Alison. I showed her the letters I had taken from Fawzi’s coat and another – an authorisation to give a credit card to Fawzi’s brother, a man who had never set foot outside Libya. Fawzi was clearly impersonating him. The manager became more incredulous and took copies of the letters. She told me that she couldn’t give me any further information about Alison as the matter was confidential and she really didn’t know what was going to happen. I told her that I’d only be happy if Fawzi and Alison got sent down.
It had taken me a long time and I had been through so much with this man, but I finally realised that there was no future and, in January 2006, I decided to file for divorce. Fawzi was travelling back and forth to Libya and would disappear for weeks on end. I had no idea when he would return – or how long he would be back for. He would then just turn up late at night without any warning or explanation only to disappear again.
There was a long gap when he wasn’t in touch and I went to see a solicitor. Fawzi couldn’t be served with any papers because I didn’t know where he was and so I was advised to separate on the grounds of adultery and desertion. My solicitor suggested that the next time he contacted me I should tell him that I was instigating divorce proceedings and I should not allow him back into our home.
Finally, after some weeks, Fawzi called me.
‘It’s over. The marriage is over; it’s finished. You’re not coming back to this house,’ I told him.
He pleaded with me but I had made my mind up. I don’t think that Fawzi ever thought I was serious about the divorce proceedings and he kept saying, ‘We can talk about it when I’m back.’
A few days later, he turned up, suitcase in hand: ‘Please let me in.’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ve had enough of your behaviour – I’ve been giving it a go, but it’s never going to work.’
‘Let me see Nadia.’
‘No! Now go.’
Fawzi stood there, all doe-eyed and sorrowful, but I remained firm and, when he realised that I wasn’t going to allow him back, he trudged off. I don’t know where he went – and I realised I just didn’t care any more.
I got a real shock, a week on, when Alison called me and told me everything about the affair.
Although she herself was married, Alison had apparently been seeing Fawzi for eighteen months – even explaining that Fawzi had been late for Nadia’s second birthday because he was with her. She described my house in detail and obviously had spent a lot of time with my husband there when I wasn’t around; she also confirmed that Fawzi was blackmailing her.
He had threatened to tell her husband about the affair unless she gave him money, which she had stolen from her employers. Using his mobile phone, he had also filmed them having sex and threatened to show this to her family. She had given Fawzi £15,000 and said she owed the building society £20,000. It was clear that Alison bitterly regretted becoming involved with Fawzi: she was now in danger of being arrested and was desperately trying to get some money from Fawzi. Good luck with that, I thought. I think that’s why she rang me – it wasn’t out of guilt.
Funnily enough, I wasn’t angry with her at first. I thought she had just fallen for Fawzi’s charms in the same way that I had, but then the more I thought about