Kidnapped and tortured on an infamous migration route to Saudi Arabia — Global Issues

When Jamal, an Ethiopian man in his early thirties, set out along what has become known as the eastern route, he was not chasing work, wealth, or status.

He was looking for his sixteen-year-old nephew, who had vanished while attempting to reach Saudi Arabia through one of the world’s most dangerous migration corridors.

Each year, tens of thousands of Ethiopians travel this route, crossing arid stretches of Ethiopia and Djibouti, the Gulf of Aden, and war-torn Yemen.

Many flee conflict, displacement, poverty, or climate shocks.

Others are pulled by false promises spread by traffickers who profit from desperation. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), the eastern route has become increasingly violent, marked by kidnappings, extortion, and systematic abuse.

Jamal’s nephew was one of those taken. Kidnapped in Yemen, the boy’s captors demanded a ransom. The family paid, but the boy was never released.

So Jamal followed went looking for him.

“I had no choice,” he says. “My brother had no other children. I had to go after him.”

In search of the traffickers

In Yemen, Jamal deliberately placed himself in the path of traffickers, hoping they would take him to the same location where his nephew was being held.

The plan worked. He was reunited with the boy, though he pretended not to recognize him to avoid suspicion. As Jamal began planning their escape, he helped other captives flee. Before he could secure his own escape, he was caught.

The punishment was immediate and brutal.

Jamal was forced to watch as other captives were beaten, mutilated, and burned.

Then it was his turn. His captors wrapped his feet in plastic and set them alight, again and again. The burns left permanent damage, affecting how he walks, how he sleeps, and how he lives with the memory of that night.

Their escape came only because fighting broke out between rival trafficking groups. Amid the chaos, Jamal and his nephew ran.

After months in Yemen, surviving by washing cars to earn enough money to leave, Jamal eventually reached Djibouti. There, he was referred to an IOM Migrant Response Centre in Obock, where he received medical care for his injuries and psychosocial support to begin processing what he had endured.

For the first time since his ordeal, he says, someone asked not only where he came from, but how he was coping.

Today, Jamal is preparing to return to Ethiopia.

He has not yet told his mother what happened. Even now, his concern is for her, not himself.

“She saw me leave in good health,” he says. “I am worried about her seeing me like this. I will have to explain it to her gently.”