Ghassan and Zahraa were not an exception. Like everybody else, they heard about the calls and mobilisation for the February 14th rally, but without too much expectation. However, it is not the expectations that make major events. Rather, it is the actions and reactions that either contain or expand those expectations. This is exactly what happened since February 14th. 

“We heard about the call for a Day of Fury from our children. My son Mohammad came to tell me that there was a call on FaceBook inviting people to gather for a grand protest rally, similar to what happened in Tunisia and Egypt. I told him to ignore it because those calls would not get any response,” Zahraa says. Then she adds, “Ghassan was in his clinic, and I was at home when I heard about the killing of the first martyr Ali Mushaime’. I called Ghassan and told him about the fall of a martyr. Then we began actually following news on WhatsApp and FaceBook.”

For Ghassan, who was not preoccupied with politics, and mainly focused on his profession and family life, the

 evening of February 15th was his first moment of curiosity. “I received in my clinic some patients who were at the Pearl Roundabout. They told me how the spot radiated with freedom and security, a place where one inhaled the feeling of being free and able to express one’s opinion without sounding like a threat to the others; where only the flags of Bahrain rising up high, flapping with love and spreading the colour of freedom.” Ghassan continues, “their description of the place moved in me the desire to see it.” At the same time, Zahraa was facing Fatima’s, her eldest child, urging appeals to take her there. She had heard that the place carried the fragrance of grass and morning dew, and pervaded by the oxygen of freedom. Zahraa became excited.

The family agreed to go to the Pearl Roundabout after clinic hours. “People were inhaling the fragrance of freedom as if they were reconciling with it fro the first time. The place was surrounded by Bahraini spontaneity and peacefulness. No one felt any worries nor has any suspicions” Zahraa says.

The second day a medical tent was erected. There was a need for volunteering doctors. Ghassan hesitated. He thought that there was no need for a medical tent since the Pearl Roundabout was so close to the Salmaniya Medical Centre. However, he put his name down as a volunteer. He considered taking the 17th February night

shift,but Zahraa was not in favour of the idea, so he left the place at 11:30 p.m.

“Before the dawn of February 17, Ghassan and I woke up for our usual night prayers preceding the dawn prayers. However, that was not a night like any other night. Ghassan was disturbed by a call from the physician on duty at the Salmaniya Hospital. She called him to go to the hospital immediately.” He did not know he had a rendezvous with events that would, later on, change his life’s direction, his perception of things and his political interests.

Ghassan says, “I asked the physician the reason for her call. It never occurred to me that the call had anything to do with the Roundabout. She told me she didn’t know what went on outside of the hospital, but the emergency department was abuzz with scores of casualties.”

Ghassan informed Zahraa, who decided to join him. He left and she followed him in her own car. “All the way from my house to the hospital, I was preparing myself for what I might see there. I never thought what I was going to see would be far more hideous than I could ever imagine. Finally I reached the outside hospital building and tried to park my car at the Emergency Parking area but it was full. I tried AlFateh parking area, but to no avail. I just parked in an unrecognisable place and hurried to the Emergency Department.”

“When I went in, I was blundered with surprise” Ghassan says. “I couldn’t take in what was going on. The hospital was flooded by casualties. There were so many people with wounds and injuries. Everyone was emotionally stirred, relatives in tears, nurses struck with surprise, people leaning against the walls engulfed in grief. What would you do if you were a doctor facing a sight you have never thought you would ever see one day? Would you rush to the casualty section? To the outside clinics? To the wards? Support the relatives? Comfort the injured? Calm down the raging crowd? The burden of that day was extremely heavy, but I did what my conscience, my profession, humanity and my sense of duty dictated on me.”

Ghassan continues with a sigh. “I had not yet recovered from my initial shock when someone abruptly said: “Dr. Sadiq Al-Ekry is wounded.” It never occurred to me that I would find any of the medics among the casualties. Did they hit at the medical tent amidst the chaotic mess? Unbelievable!”

Ghassan searched for his colleague Dr. Sadiq to find him in Ward 11. It was a nightmare. He felt he must act with prudence, intuition and humanity. He examined his colleague and discovered that he had fractures in the face, a severe injury in the eye and two more injuries in the chest and the abdomen. Ghassan asked for him to be seen by an ophthalmologist and the staff in the ward called the consultant on duty. The ophthalmologist refused to take the case and told them to call someone else. That was another shock which Ghassan failed to grasp: a colleague in a critical condition, and an associate unethically dodging her duty to help someone badly in need for her attention. It did not occur to him that ‘betrayal’ would grow even larger and larger to become the main character during the National Safety period and far beyond.

Ghassan continues his story. “That morning we received verbal orders via the hospital’s paging system to close all clinics and go to Emergency. There were no written instructions because the attack on the Roundabout occurred at dawn and there was no time to issue any circulars. Everyone went to the Emergency Department. The hospital administration had no experience in crisis management and that caused an immeasurable havoc.

The story goes on. “It was a long and tiring morning. Casualties kept coming until 9 a.m. Cases ranged between the simple and the very serious. We saw all kinds of injuries and in every part of the body. Some cases needed immediate surgery; others needed treatment at the Emergency wards. The place was getting too crowded. Some received treatment in the corridors.”

At quarter to nine, it was the time for a new shocking experience. Ambulances were prevented from leaving to rescue the wounded. Casualties were brought in to hospital by doctors, paramedics, nurses, and passing-by drivers. “Could anyone imagine that ambulances would be prevented from rescuing a casualty, no matter what their crime was?” asks Ghassan disapprovingly. “There was no time for contemplation. One felt torn between the pain of the reality on the ground and the pain of the reality behind the scene. However, the fact was that ambulances were prevented from rescuing the wounded while the security forces assaulted the paramedics and

nurses who were heading to get them.”

“After the fits of anger expressed by the medical staff and the relatives, a group of doctors and I managed to convince the Assistant Undersecretary, Dr. Ameen Sa’aty, to call the Minister of Health to coordinate with the Ministry of Interior to give us permission to go to the area of the Pearl Roundabout to rescue those who might be trapped there and in need of some help. Indeed, at 11:40, we managed to go there.”

“I was in one of the cars going to the Roundabout. We passed through many check points where we were met with offensive insults. The military and security men pointed their guns at us and interrogated us. When we finally got to King Faisal Road near the Roundabout, the place looked like a war zone: bricks, gravel and stones were all over the place. The tents and all their contents were destroyed, food scattered everywhere, and the grass, the green grass was painted red with blood.”

Ghassan breathes deeply as he recalls those terrifying and painfully disturbing moments. “It was a very, very, very horrifying sight.” He goes on, “The ambulances continued their tour around the Roundabout, passing by the Dana Mall and the Sanabis village, and then returned to the hospital carrying with them the wounds made by those sights in the in the hearts of the seers.” On arrival at the hospital, and amidst all the events that took place in the Emergency Department, an unplanned gathering of people started growing spontaneously in the emergency courtyard outside of the hospital. 

Zahraa was in no less of a shock than Ghassan as she saw the scores of casualties being rushed in to the hospital. “I was in the operating theatre, and the injured were brought in like slain birds. Some were carried without an ambulance trolley because they were brought in by car. Ambulances were prevented from going to their rescue. The sight I would never forget was when I saw Ali Al Mo’min being carried to the operating room and his blood leaving a wide red trail behind him, all the way along the corridor.” 

“The scene was so horrifying that I wasn’t able to enter the operating room with him. I collapsed and lost all my strength and perseverance. I called my mother to find out what was going on outside of the hospital. We had left early in the morning, in response to a terse telephone call, and suddenly we found ourselves at the heart of the events without knowing what was going on out there.”

It was Friday, February 18th. More than 5000 of the medical staff participated in a sit-in in the parking lot outside of the Emergency Department. “There were no slogans, nor any calls for overthrowing the regime; only condemnations for failing to give ambulances permission to leave for the rescue of casualties, and for the assault on medical staff. Fortunately, we were there [at the hospital]” Ghassan confirms. “The protesters who marched to the Roundabout after the closing funeral of Martyr Ali Mushaime’ were shot at. Had it not been for the large number of medics present at the time to take care of casualties, the death toll would have been in the dozens. Many casualties were taken directly to the operating theatre. When he was rushed in, martyr Abdul Redha was immersed in his own blood. His state was terrifying. Everyone went hysteric when they saw him. Everyone in the medical staff attempted vigorously to save his life: doctors, consultants, nurses, radiologists, everyone. I was with Martyr Abdul Redha from the beginning till the end. I pushed his trolley from one section to the other, I ran along the corridors to get blood bags. We strived in every way to save his life and the life of others, but we failed. That was an extremely traumatic experience. We would never forget how painful it was.”

Things calmed down, On February 19th, after the Crown Prince ordered the withdrawal of the military and security

 forces from the Pearl Roundabout in preparation for the dialogue which was yet to be. However, on March 13th there was a new flare, which hadn’t subsided since. “We were functioning normally and calmly in the hospital until Sunday, March 13th. That was a critical date that brought with it the memories of February 17th. Ambulances were again prevented form responding to distress calls for rescue. Casualties were rushed to the hospital via civil vehicles. We took one ambulance but we were stopped. We saw people running from the direction of Al-Razi medical Centre. We took some of the casualties with us to the Salmaniya hospital. The place there was crowded with casualties and their relatives. The crowds were in a deplorable state” Ghassan recalls.

Zahraa adds “At that moment, I was in the operating room, Ghassan was performing surgery on a shoulder, and I was with Dr. Aqeel operating on a knee. While we waited for the next patient, we were told that the security forces blocked the Financial Harbour area and all the roads surrounding or leading to it. Patients could not get to the hospital because of military blockades, and we didn’t know what was going on out there. Later we went down to the Emergency Department and calls of distress started coming from the Financial Harbour area and later on from the University of Bahrain.”

Ghassan adds more details. “While we were taking the casualties of the Financial Harbour to the hospital, we received calls telling us about numerous casualties in the University of Bahrain. We rushed there to find that we were the first rescue team to arrive at the place. We were attacked and beaten at the entrance to the University and at other check-points. We arrived at a place where we saw a youth lying on the ground in a lake of blood. He was hit by a sword and surrounded by a group of masked thugs, armoured with swords, clubs, sticks and sharp tools. They attacked us but we managed to rescue the youth and carry him with a few others to the Salmaniya hospital. We went there again to rescue another group of casualties. We were not allowed in at first, but with so much difficulty and after so many attempts and the intervention of some security men, we managed to get in. Again we were assaulted by thugs carrying sharp tools. However, we managed to take some of the injured. I alone carried three injured youths to the ambulance. On the way to the University gate, a group of armed thugs stopped us and pulled one of the injured down from the ambulance and beat him in front of us. We were scared to death. We didn’t know how far those thugs could go. Later we succeeded in transporting the last of the casualties to the Salmaniya hospital.”

Ghassan’s story continues. “As we arrived at the Salmaniya hospital I got a call that some of the medics were trapped in the University and that they were being assaulted by thugs. I immediately went to the Assistant Undersecretary, Dr. Ameen Al Sa’aty, and told him about the call I had just received. For a moment, he showed no reaction. However, after much insistence and pressure from me and from a group of my colleagues, he went to the University and freed the trapped medical staff and brought them with him. They were all wounded. Amongst them were Drs. Majeed Khalaf, Fatima Haji, and a group of male and female nurses. 

That long day had yet to come to an end. “On that day, scores and scores of armed thugs were set loose in different parts of Bahrain to turn the country into a chaotic muddle. We had news of thugs attacking the village of Dar-Kulaib. I went there with an ambulance and treated a group of casualties. Another piece of news came in the evening from Manama and we also went there. Clashes broke out between the thugs and the angry youth who reacted in defence of their areas. The confrontations were violent, and the thugs, were Asians. We carried the injured from both groups to the hospital. At the entrance of Emergency, crowds were furious because those Asian thugs were purposely dispersed to assault the people in their own localities, and some tried attacking them. However, with great difficulty we managed to control the situation and take the Asians for treatment in the Emergency Department.”

“That evening, I personally transported many Asians as well as Bahrainis from Nuaim Medical Centre to the Salmaniya hospital, from Al Makharga quarter to Salmaniya, and from Nuaim quarter to Salmaniya. We were trying to rescue people in as many ways as we could, regardless of who they were: Asians, Bahraini protesters, or security forces.”

On the other hand, the thugs were systematically and purposefully attacking the various areas. “Soon we got news that the thugs were seen in Tubli, then in A’ali, and then in many areas which were populated by the opposition majority. We continued all night moving from one area to the other, rescuing the wounded and helping the injured, and transporting them to the hospital. I couldn’t sleep that nigh despite the long, tiring day. Almost at dawn, my whole body collapsed. I couldn’t go on any further. So, I left.”

That was the Syrian police officer, whom Ghassan, with the help of others, was accused of kidnapping and detaining. So, what was his story?

It was Monday night, March 14th, the Saraya area. Misha’an was firing bird shots from his gun at the people in Saraya. He was attacking the area with a group of masked thugs in civilian clothes. One of his shots found its place in the head of Martyr Majeed Abdul A’al, who remained clinically dead until his death was announced later on 30th June.

A group of angry and furious youth intercepted Misha’an’s way and beat him vigorously until bleeding, then took him to hospital and left him there. Drs. Ghassan Dhaif and Nabeel Abdul Hameed examined Misha’an and immediately admitted him for treatment from head injury. “I left the hospital after giving instructions for follow up treatment. The next day Dr. Arif Rajab took the case and sent Misha’an, who upon his own request and after making the necessary arrangements with hospital administration, was referred to the Military hospital. My reward for taking care of Misha’an was that I, and some other doctors, were accused of abducting and detaining Misha’an against his will.” Ghassan laughs bitterly. At the time, the local TV programme Al-Rasid (the Observer) was being aired every night. The programme purposefully targeted doctors and medical staff, especially Ghassan Dhaif and Ali Al Ekry.

Ghassan continues his story. “I called Head of the Department, Dr. Arif Rajab, on Tuesday, March 15th, and told him I needed to take a three-day-leave. I was extremely exhausted. I didn’t go to work during those three days, despite of the tragic seriousness of all that was going on there. That showed the absurdity of the accusation. How could I detain anyone while I was out on leave?”

Zahraa continues Ghassan’s story. “On March 15th the state of emergency was declared. The military forces were deployed and armoured vehicles spread everywhere. I had just finished my duty and left for home when the news came that the military forces launched an attack on Sitra. We kept following the news via social media and TV channels that broadcast news of Bahrain. I totally lost control of myself. I was in a hysteric fit of crying. I said to Ghassan, “I must go to the hospital” and stood up to leave. Ghassan grabbed my hands and held me back. “They will kill you,” he said.