By Great Friends Encouragement

Dear Gareth,

Thank you all this amazing, particularized narrative.

Your honesty and integrity are as truly remarkable as your ability to write. There can be no doubt that your life was in reflection dramatic and spectacular.
The recent experience seems almost as if it was a turn of the screw, intensifying your experience. You are more than qualified to write your own story and make it literature.

I believe that you do not need an emanuensis to script your story, only a recorder and an analyst. This you have in three persons, if not more.

Once I have relayed my collated info overseas, the documents will be labelled, packed, and returned to Tammy from you can collect or have sent back upon your release.I believe you have same qualities as St Paul, because of your Christian witness.

You have saved lives, given life, brought release and peace to some of those unfortunates with you. Your own intense suffering has so sharpened your wits so as to more than qualify your writing for a more permanent place in the literature of our times.Remain the shining example you are in the very hand of God. 

My old Teacher from Sacs

Gareth,
thank you so much for your amazing voice message.
One of the things that is for me so important in your message, is the huge success that your boy has achieved at Reddam.
So good to have an inspiration from a teacher who cares and who knows, there may even be some transmitted inspiration from you in spite of what his mother has done and is doing.

You must be so proud of his academic achievement.
Hopefully you will have an opportunity to teach him some of the basic truths of life still.
I will continue to connect with you and visit Tammy to keep track of developments.
You are such an incredibly brave person and maybe Leo Benning and Tony your swimming coach, were right and it is that instinct that came through in the military and now while going through this endless ordeal.
I am sure that we can sit together soon and just communicate our feelings in words and sometimes in silence at what the world has given you to endure. You are an inspiration in persistance and inordinate patience.

I hope I am an inspiration to many of the kids that I have taught and continue to teach. I try to have faith even in those who have not responded or who are part of the Rhodes/Feesmustfall group of young, inexperienced, Old Boys who have yet to endure and suffer and live some experiences.
They have not. To you, all the best for a speedy outcome in your favour and as they say in Afrikaans - 'Hou die blink kant bo.' Look to the good and the positive however tough it may seem as there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel which is the continuation of your next phase in freedom.

Take care.

Much love.

Geoff

Military 3 = The Right Stuff

.Hi G....where and when did you get awarded your HC after smokeshell..

Well.. It was a huge surprize actuallly..
The parade was in central Square in Bloemfontein shortly after my clearing out 1981.

I will try to explain how it all happened back then....

After the Angolan carnage in June1980. It was about October 1980..a few months before the end of my two years national service.
We were at a training camp in Lohatla in the Northern Cape...when I was requested, by popular demand... to be company chef.. and admittedly by my own choice.. to escape more days of gruelling training.. to the disdain of my shattered section.. who had to continue training without me.

I am not an army chef but I could cook with passion and it was very rewarding for me. 
My moms basics helped I think?
The intensely hard work was a good distraction and therapy for my deeply traumatised condition after Smokeshell.

I was busy cooking supper for the company when the whole  company was ordered to form up.

Capt Louis Harmse..the company commander, stood in front of the rows of us young men.
He addressed us all for the first time, complimenting us on our recent achievements on OpSceptic and also for the fine formation and execution of our vehicle training manoevers that week.
Then .. out  of the blue.. he announced that  o/korporaal Rutherford had been awarded the Honoris Crux for actions under fire on ops Smokeshell/sceptic

I was as shocked.. as everyone else.Haa!!.. I looked left and right and smiled at my mates thinking there was some kind of joke because I was the new chef.

We all waited for the other names .. but none came.
I didnt move.. frozen in surprize..
I didnt know what to say or think.. or how to react.. happy.. shocked.. bewildered..?
Proud.?
I stepped forward and the captain  shook my hand and the boys all clapped..I was completely stunned..but grateful for this recognition.
But for what..?
For what exactly... I had no idea.?At that stage there was no citation that I knew of ..nor any further info spoken of.

I remember the whole company getting back into the vehicles to drive back to our tents about ten km away in the veld.
There were no rowdy pats on my back.. no cheers of pride or good morale.. only business as usual.

A couple of the boys came up to me and said well done or                "congratulations".. but it was a quiet response.. if also slightly cold..I was so confused but elated I suppose... as I loaded the food containers onto the trucks amid the chatter of my compatriots.
I chose to run back to camp so I could have time to think. 
It was after five pm and I set off alone and I literally flew.. 
I never felt my feet on the hard red earth and the kilos flashed by as my mind reeled. 

I ran and ran and ran... not knowing what to say.. what think..
I  shouted to the sky and my head was awhirl..and I got lost..
 I ran right past our camp.. lost in shock and sadness. I realized then, that this award was to do with those I had attended under fire as they lay dying in the sun and the bewildering realization that I had not been killed right next to them and why was I still alive.?

Lohatla is a huge tract of wide open plains and I really went far...alone on foot out there.. I was completely lost... until luckily as it was getting dark...
I found a small group of oumanne or campers having a braai at a small group of tents. 

They sat me down and I rested... had a beer and told them what had happened..and about the medal that I was due to recieve.

They didnt know me at all ..but they cheered in wonderment at first.. and then as they realised that what I had told them was true ...raised me on their rowdy shoulders and applauded me almost like their own hero.
For exactly what.? It would take me a long time to figure it through and therefore I couldnt tell them much more than a bit about the operation we had done in Angola in June...but they guessed that it was something I must have done right.

They didnt want to let me leave and were so kind and appraising.. and...so proud of me.. and they were not even my own company..they had never seen me..but they cheered.

I explained to them that I had a kitchen to run.. food to prepare for 220 and I was late.. and they obliged me with a lift back to my group 8km back down the road I had run.

I had run 18km without even thinking.. and was super fit and strong.. and inspired.. but still lost..and lost in my head. 
And that was only the beginning of many years of coming to grips with survivor guilt and Ptsd.

Lost in my head ..as the recent deaths of my closest compatriots was fresh in my mind and that blood smell still in my nose. 

It was all so surreal and bitterly confusing as our battle group carried on training here as usual without those lost compatriots.
Lost in my head.. I became a bit morose I think.. being rewarded as my closest pals lay dead.. and notably..those in my platoon ..my team mates who were next to me there under fire in action.. equally brave... were unseen heros.. unsung ?

So ..of course I felt awkward then..
But time has helped me see it all as I step back now.
As it happens...I think I did ok..

I was seen doing the right stuff by many on the battle zone...
And most notably.. by the highest ranking officer on the operation that day.
I kept my head.. under fire.. I never ran away.. I challenged the savage enemy alone, running through their base with only my rifle and my wits.

I ran to the aid of dead and dying comrades and performed medical procedures to the book.. I thank my trainer Dr James Gibson today for much of that.
He went to the same school with me and was four years my senior.

All the ops medical that I did there was right, and I'm most proud to mention that Peter Brent was stoically by my side and completely unfazed by the extent of the blood and gore we had to contend with. The others in my section were less able to deal with the sight of such carnage and were deployed bravely in circular defense of our position, fighting off the well concealed and deadly surrounding enemy forces. All this was under the most incredibly well coordinated instructions by the platoon commander 2lt Paul Louw and Cpl Gary Braithwaite.

Peter Brent appeared over my shoulder and started helping me to get the dying soldiers into more protected positions and more comfortable as best we could, because it took us both a few vital minutes to comprehend our situation and that we were the only medical hands available. 

Initially all of our shocked responses caused further delays and confusion and I was the only able bodied soldier who dared to initiate medical procedures because of the sheer bloody carnage that suddenly faced us. 

This was not "supposed" to have happened and was not in any training manuals.
 The burnt flesh..blood and shattered bone was real.
My medical training was good but still never prepared me for the extreme dismemberment of my closest friends.

Later others gradually overcame their initial shock at the sight of such carnage and started helping  as I got the situation more under control.... and I never forgot them or what they did.

It was a great relief to have some help and not to be all alone.. with the dead and dying..Peter Brent was there and that was a great relief for me. 
I tore open shredded uniforms and severed hanging strands of skin and flesh.
I cut off a leg below the knee and picked up a foot still inside a boot.

Michael, My running partner's foot.
I bandaged and tourniqued and vomited..
 I applied heart massage and kiss of life as my face was covered in chunks of gore coming out of my desperate and dying patients.. my close friends.

I inserted drips and injected morphine on the worst.. and ..I held their bloodless dying hands and boosted their morale.. and it  was seen by all those terrified by the sight of so much blood and gore.
And it was right that someone noticed..this was not my nomination.

So.. I never got shot.. Enemy sniper bullets hit the body of the vehicle above our heads as we worked.
I should have been dead many times over.. as the others sat safe behind the machines and tucked low behind cover..as I ran around outside tending wounded.

By luck or chance or a guardian angel.. I dont know how or why.. but I survived those days.

They gave me a medal for that I think.?
... whew.!!

A huge parade in bloemfontein..centre city..

They cut the bushelters out off the square and layed out red carpets everywhere ..19 of us were honoured that day..
My mom and dad were flown in by Defence hq.

Pik Botha . PW.. Magnus... and Constand Viljoen..my father spoke with them all and swelled with pride as Constand..chief of Army,  said that my citation was most exceptional.
I met all the big wigs.. it was so scary for this little lancejack  "onderkorporaaltjie."
It was a huge parade and I was really anxious..
I never smiled because I knew that the families of the dead and all my compatriots were watching..so naturally... I was pensive and sad and I felt then , so out of place... so undeserving.. a fraud.?

 Yes of course I was proud of the great honour and recognition..but it was completely shrouded in sadness and confusion...and sealed by trauma that few would really know.

I was reserved..in respect for those that died under my hands... and my myriad of inadequacies.?
Today I look back and read the stories of all the others.. their accounts of great valour and achievement.. and I am so proud to have been there with those others.
It was because of their actions.. It was because of their competent battle efforts.... That I lived that day.

 It was such a huge team effort and I would have been dead if not for those other ratel platoons.. their fearless gunners and tenacious teams on the ground.
My actions were not only combative hand to hand facing the enemy.. but included comprehensive medical procedures under fire ..and boosting of morale under the pall of death.

As it turns out today.. it is clear ..a good few of my comrades who endured the most terrifying enemy sharps, explosive events, ran away in terror and confusion from the immediate contact zone. Some coming to further grief.. but thats another story that has no place at this stage.

So.. I look back today .. differently..my citation is well substantiated..

I see now what others did so bravely.. so selflessly.. and what I did..
And it was all good...

Today I no longer cower in sadness and regret..and guilt... but I am proud  ... that I did well ...what I was trained to do... compliments to my trainers...and when the chips were down ...  
I was on top form.!. coherent and efficient..!

And someone saw me doing that. 

I also kept a daily journal of all those events which has formed part of the historic detail we are still piecing together today. 

So in 1981..I was awarded a medal for gallantry ..along with a group of very brave soldiers from all over the country..who were on other daring operations..and who, in some way or other..had saved lives at great risk to their own.

And I was one of them.

Im still here...

Thats what happened....

Ch (9) Rain on my Brain

19th January 2017
Ive been locked down in my tiny cell for more two weeks...
Today, at last...We were allowed to go  outside into the yard covered by steel grids.

There was no sun..
a storm was brewing..
the sky was an orange glow...
and I shivered in my thin plastic jacket as I walked down the cold long passage...

But i went on out, following the few others who appreciated the opportunity to take a breath of fresh air.
Air that has not been rebreathed or tainted so foul by these tightly closed cell blocks.
As i walked out over the dry powdery earth.. the sky opened.

This hot dry desert so long, so harsh.
The rain poured down in big heavy drops.
Bursting cool on my scalp..
was  so wow !!
I walked on out into the long bleak high walled yard as the damp smell of wet dust rose around me.
I tore off my jacket and the wrinkled old tee shirt and stood with my arms out sideways as the rain gushed over the startled bare skin of my shoulders and back.
My face to the sky.. and eyes closed .. drops plopping on my eyelids and face..
I prayed a thank you.. and the others must have thought me a bit crazy..
but I ignored that..
as they came out from the sheltered edges and copied me in my ritual of chilly gratitide and acceptance of the great gift.

I think it was for me..

Just to say.. stay..

Im here...

Keep Faith...

Summary of events

The Gareth Rutherford Case

Gareth Rutherford is a British Citizen, born in Cape Town and educated at South African College School.  He studied Civil Engineering and has worked in engineering consultancy and run a small contracting company.
Having been conscripted into the South African Army at the age of 20, he was awarded the Honorus Crux medal for bravery (South Africa’s highest military bravery award); as an infantry medic he had tended to wounded soldiers during a fierce battle, saving lives whilst under fire with no regard for his own safety.

Gareth later worked as a civilian “Ministry of Defence” contractor for a British company in Basra, serving the British Military based at the Basra airport military enclave in Iraq.  As such he fell under British military close protection and was obliged to follow UK Military safety procedures.  By 2008 he had held this post for five years.

In the early morning of the 18th of September 2008, Gareth was heading off on leave via a booking made through the RAF Movements Office.  He flew with a RAF C130 from Basra in Iraq to the Kuwait Military Airport where he arrived along with British Embassy staff who were also on leave; he travelled with them in the official embassy vehicle to Kuwait City.

Gareth then slept for a couple of hours at a hotel used by his company.  A company vehicle had been left for him at the hotel and he drove off to see his employers who were expecting him at the company office in Kuwait City. Gareth was carrying company cash with him.

Whilst on his way to the office, Gareth got a call from his Iraqi interpreter in Basra asking him to collect some equipment from a specific garage in Jahra; the collection was apparently a favour for their cement suppliers. At the garage two Kuwaiti citizens loaded wheelbarrows, spades, tools and a large tyre onto the pickup - one of a set of tyres that the men had in their car. As Gareth was refuelling the vehicle, the interpreter called again and spoke to Gareth for a few minutes to check the progress of the collection, he told Gareth to drop the equipment at a known tyre repair shop near the Holiday Inn in Kuwait City.        

Gareth headed off and was subsequently arrested by approximately ten waiting policemen as he approached the tyre shop. He had been nowhere near a border crossing or back to the international airport and was driving a vehicle that had been kept at the hotel in Kuwait. All of these facts could have been corroborated if investigated.

Gareth’s arresting officers and accusers alleged that he had driven across the border from Iraq with the spare tyre filled with drugs in the vehicle and was thus a “trafficker”, the most severe of the drug offences. They claimed that the company cash he was carrying was evidence of this. Kuwaiti citizens at a garage in Kuwait had loaded the tyre on to the vehicle; there were many witnesses to this, but it was never investigated.

The Criminal Investigation Police forced Gareth to sign a statement under extreme duress, having been threatened, manhandled and kept in isolation in the dark for four days.  The statement was written in Arabic and he was told that it was a translation of his statement of the events. It transpired that it was not a translation of his statement but rather a fabricated confession that he had brought the tyre filled with drugs over the border from Iraq. Gareth had not been given access to an independent interpreter or an English-speaking lawyer at this stage.  

A trial was held during which Gareth was not able to testify. There was no clear or correct translation provided during the proceedings.

The trial ran for a period of approximately six months, Gareth made only eight, very brief, appearances, the longest lasting for around ten minutes. Gareth was given an UK embassy appointed lawyer who consulted with Gareth for no more than 40 minutes throughout the entire case; the lawyer was not even present at all the court appearances.

An appeal was held two months after the initial verdict: a life sentence of 25 years. Gareth made an appearance lasting 7 minutes; his lawyer did not consult with him at all for the appeal appearance. There was no opportunity for testimony, no witnesses were called and no evidence was presented. The outcome was the same, a life sentence of 25 years in Kuwaiti prison.

Gareth has been in prison in Kuwait since 2008 following these two very questionable trials.

We wish to raise a voice of appeal to the Emir of Kuwait, the Kuwaiti Government, the UK Government and the UK Prime Minister.

This case needs to be properly investigated and Gareth must be released.

Status as at End 2016

To whom it may concern
So many caring friends

Thank you most kindly for your care and interest with this long drawn out humanitarian and legal miscarriage.
I hope my below listed  responses are sufficient to better explain to you, some of the most common queries regarding this unfortunate incident.

Current Status

I was arrested 18thsept 2008 in Kuwait city centre, in broad daylight.. and have been in jail ever since.

I was tried in a court of Kuwaiti law.. and convicted of trafficking in drugs and liquor.

I was initially sentenced to life in jail (or 25 years.) This was reduced by 10 years, to 15years... for good behaviour.

I have completed 8 years and have 7 more to go, until 2024.

This has mercifully been reduced by a further 4 years to a remaining 3 years... also marked by good behaviour...Which is marked on my file as around about 2020.

The exact protocols for my mail and packages are as follow.. 
Including the liaison person(s) for status updates on mail and packages.

We dont encourage sending of  any parcels,  as authorisations are very difficult and all packages dissapear.

c/o Ms Caroline le Quesne
Vice Consul
British Embassy Kuwait
(Detainee Gareth KCP)
P.o.box 2
Safat 13001
Kuwait

Uk Embassy 00965 22594320

Caroline le Quesne
00965 22594358

caroline.lequesne@fco.gov.uk
sahar.mohseni@fco.gov.uk

Ambassador
Matthew.lodge@fco.gov.uk

Until now, we have recieved no responses from any Kuwait gov parties or official courtesy.

Prisoners Abroad in london are supportive and will assist relocation.. money..registration.. accommodation and documentation when I arrive safely  back to London after my release.

They have had a file on me since 2008.

Fairtrials International declined to review my case.. (rebecca shaeffer) but they also have a file on me .
My lawyer was unavailable  when FTI tried to contact him...and Embassy advised against contesting the verdict set in stone.

Amnesty International in S.A. reviewed my case under Dr Thinus Coetzee.. They regarded my case as criminal, and as such, they felt it had no grounds for a human rights appeal. 

The very extensive file,  was consequently referred to Amnesty International in London and ignored. 2014.

Walkfree organisation also ignored all approaches.

BBC London declined to comment or,  as we gather, they were concerned that publication of these gross legal and human rights infractions could jeopardise the sensitive diplomatic relationships between the UK and Kuwait.
This could ultimately insult the Kuwaiti sovereign judiciary.

My present position here is as a common criminal prisoner sentenced to life (25yr).imprisonment  .. for trafficking in hashish...(49 kg),  hidden inside a spare tyre in my cargo load.

2014 Reduced sentence to 15yrs... for being a good model prisoner.

2016 reduced further four years...for academic achievements...and
Cancellation of all fines.

I am a British citizen and have always carried a valid passport.

I was born of British parents in colonial Kenya 1959.
I am South African and have dual nationality with permission from home affairs..

Date of marriage and children.Married Cape town 19 Dec1989
Only child 1998

The actual dates of my employment leading up to my incarceration 2008.
My last employment term was  Sept 2003 to my arrest Sept 17th 2008.

My title as Operations Maintenance Manager included tasking in Iraq for five years as Senior field operations manager for Inchcape Shipping Services,  trading as KMMC in Kuwait...administered from London and Dxb.  

These contracts were in turn, subcontracted to Kellogg Brown and Root.(KBK UK) also headed from Leatherhead HQ in London.

Contracted in turn by U.K. Ministry of Defence.. in support of British troops in Iraq and coalition efforts.

My dear old mother died very prematurely of overexertion because of my lack of attendance.. and undet a cloud of unbearable shame ..Nov16 2014. R.i.p.

My 87 yr old father is weak and needs me badly.. but is fading fast too.

I have repeatedly sent letters to the amir of kuwait who is the only authority permitted to free me, or to  make any  adjustments to my status.

Even my old father has written numerous personal appeals to the Amir ..also all unanswered.

I have a long established case of PTSD and have recieved limited treatment for it here.
I have the medical documentation on my file.

I have been well cared for, and protected by the British Foreign Commonwealth Office (FCO) via British Embassy in Kuwait.

They are only ever a phonecall away.. and respond immediately if ever i have a situation.
They deliver cash to the prison which gets sent to me from various close friends.. via electronic transfer as per fco.gov.uk website.

Parcels are declined now as embassy feel they exceed their limitations by requesting repeated  special authorisations,  when delivering goods to the prison for me.

I have become ever more confident and well convinced of our detailed legal approach and credibility throughout this campaign.

The impact of this campaign will be most effective while i am in jail.

I need therefore ..to continue with as much public exposure as possible before my captors release me surreptitiously.

My stance remains courteous and regretful.. but it has to be assertive confident and absolutely honest.

My new global petition comes out soon and is well underway for christmas.

So .. as much as we are all outraged and incensed by the extent of the complex and sensitive limitations by embassy .. lawyers and business collegues.. we remain most cautious and discrete.. because we need them on our side... perhaps for years to come.

I have resolved to persevere with this campaign because so much effort has been expended over the years, and much has been achieved.

There is no stopping now as it  would be a tragic waste and a great dissapointment to many..

Many strangers have joined with us here and stand strong and vocal.
Every one a treasured friend forever.

One last thing i am most pleased to mention.. is, that I  alone...am so small and weak,  and insignificant in the scheme of things..
but our success  together over these wealthy and powerful political elements, is a victory for truth and justice in this messed up world.

Your passion...your outrage.. your care.. did this.

Many many thanks..

http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/appeal-to-the-authorities-and-the-emir-of-kuwait?utm_medium=email&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=thank-you

Queries regarding Diplomatic Intervention

It is my pleasure to clarify some of the undercurrents.
My lawyer 2009.. apparently approached the british naval attache at the embassy.. to get confirmation of my flight bookings night of 17sept 2008.

This would have proved that I did not drive across military border post.. and that all my alibis were truthful.
Apparently...British military stood back and stated categorically that at the time of my arrest,   I was operating alone in kuwait, out of their care as a civilian contractor.
As such, it was a civilian matter and nothing to do with them.
If I had been on a military transport or official escort , as was normally my practice.. it would have been in  their interest to assist.

So it was a justified response by them , because I was on my way home on leave and had left the shelter of the military the night before.

I had to settle for this,  understanding the extreme sensitivity of the high security military relationship that was being threatened.

Embassy warned me about this politely.

What I had caused ,was an appalling shame.. an extreme embarrassment and it was my duty and obligation to keep myself and this debacle as far away from my company..Inchcape and KBR,
the associated British M.O.Defense  primary contractors.. and the british forces ... as possible.

I did that.

Asking Tony Blair or his office for advice or influence ... once, is a knock on the door.
Twice, a second time... they  might open to see whos there....

Thrice they ask your name.

Four times they might look at your letter... and suggest trying the neighbours.

Thats how it works..or doesnt..
Persistence has a better chance....

I am attending a religious school.
It is the most insidious brainwashing mechanism put in place to reorientate the most evil criminals in the country.
I am compelled to participate for obvious reasons.
They love having me in there.

For many of the poor criminals in here,  it is a very good thing...as for the first time in their criminal lives they get sight of social values and some self discipline... no spitting.. no killing...no more raping..and...
the alternative is too sad for me to explain here.

I am one alone here in this jail..
a single, educated, white, english  speaking, still christian, British Citizen.

I tried swimming against the flow initially.. but it was futile.
They scorned my religious fortitude and broke my wooden cross.. lured me to their heathen ways. Threatened me and attacked me twice.
They rubbed my nose into their precious sacred dogma and cajoled me into faux conversion rituals.

I found my safe middle ground and have only become stronger.. more resolute and my support groups have burgeoned.
They commend me and inspire me to keep going.. hoping....
And we are doing it..many of us now...

I have a limited protection amongst some "friends"  in here, who respect my individuality and the consistent good example I have set... they cannot be seen to be too sympathetic or to be following too closely in my infidel ways....but weve survived thus far and it remains always ..
that  I  am alone here..

 And my smile every day hides my constant torment.. an effective facade against my, once failing resolve.

No matter how much I have tried to assimilate.. I could never become quite like any of them.
I couldnt.. i tried..

I joined the mosque and attended all the classes as I applied myself to the language .. culture.. religion and social practices....and ive enjoyed it and I am proud of my  modest achievements there.

After all the years .. I had no choice, but to go with the flow, and martyrdom is not my track.
I made the best of it .. but its been so hard and so humiliating.

I learnt other things.. more and better !
I swam obliquely downstream and found my compromise..
I learnt how to grab a hold on the riverbank.. but i will  still never be one of them.

I am alone here ...and frozen out of their groups because of my continued loyalty to my roots and my heritage.

Embassy seemed to be dissapointed in me because of these Muslim affiliations.. though I cant yet quite isolate their exact  attitudes or sentiments but i will learn more at my next meeting with them.

Even the kuwait church groups scorn my entanglement with the web of islam and the clutches of its spinners.

I am so alone.
In order to get through every day where embassy are compelled by their diplomatic limitations,  and keep their polite distance from this worthy cause. .. I have to make my own path through this cultural and political minefield.
But they will soon be on board with us.

I am compelled to do anything that will afford me the briefest reprieve and even as Embassy fco are so respectfully cautious still..they will soon see the reasons for my apparent  disloyalty or ingratitude.

I am alone here.

Nobody needs a sad sack..
I am  not that..

Im fine..
Better,  stronger ..
And maybe learnt a tutch.?

But please dont be deceived by my faux bravado or stoic smiles.
This torment is such a continued trauma. 
This trumped-up punishment is a gross violation of my human rights.This has been ignored for all the above reasons.

The matter of my exoneration or immediate release has been constantly avoided..because the authorities all see that I am in good health and monitored under maximum security.... but they will never know the sadness.. horror.. trauma that I have so well hidden year after year.

Im not doing that anymore..
Im not going to conceal the  twisting blade they've already driven so deep.

My dear mother died in the clouds of shame and sadness alone without my hand at her side because of this.
My old dad ailing now in his last years, waiting too.. in vain.

Even as i have made these empassioned appeals to embassy and various government agencies on all sides... they have all stayed well aloof and impotent.

Some basic personal items, sent to me from far away at enormous expense and great effort.... dental floss. Underpants.. marmite.. bedsheets and covers.. lay untended .. unaddressed for over a year at embassy... as diplomacy failed. The prison beurocracy seemed to be inflexible.
Six registered packages  addressed to british embassy kuwait , were stolen at kuwait postal depot.
Dissapeared.!

Nothing was said or done..
I fear so much causing any ill to my tentative relationship... even now,  too afraid to phone them.
I am so alone ..

All this should have been suitably resolved diplomatically long ago.
It was sadly such a great trauma and dissapointment .. specially to all those caring friends that sent them...a travesty of compassion.. but I forgive them.

I know that when I do get out  of this jail one day,  to address the offices legally.. and in my detailed  publications. .. that they will scoff saying "why ?".. "for goodness sakes Gareth.. didnt you say something sooner..?" "
You poor fellow..""we had no idea"
"Oh we gave you everything we could Gareth... but ignored your mistrials for political sensitivities.."
"So sorry you didnt point this out eight years ago Gareth.."
"We needed only to phone the Amir... you should have written more clearly Gareth"
"You seemed so happy Gareth"
"Our hands were tied"
"Gareth ..you must understand that Fco may not intervene in a  sovereign criminal judiciary...especially as political tensions are so strained globally."

And we respect that...

Well .. Ive been saying all this for a  long time but have been  continuously rebuffed.
There are thankfully crowds of thousands who have now  witnessed this spectacle.

All it would have taken, was one phonecall..
It could have been settled long back..

Still..and I am ever grateful to them for having come this far under the circumstances and, though years delayed... they will join with us in the success of  this long concealed truth and its justice.

http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/appeal-to-the-authorities-and-the-emir-of-kuwait?utm_medium=email&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=thank-you