Front Burner - Weekend Listen: Bloodlines

Episode Date: November 4, 2023

From BBC Sounds and CBC Podcasts. Syria. 2018. ISIS is on the brink of defeat. A toddler disappears in the chaos. In London, his grandad needs answers. Poonam Taneja investigates. More episodes are available at: https://link.chtbl.com/XSnmvZ1n

In the Dragon's Den, a simple pitch can lead to a life-changing connection. Watch new episodes of Dragon's Den free on CBC Gem. Brought to you in part by National Angel Capital Organization, empowering Canada's entrepreneurs through angel investment and industry connections. This is a CBC Podcast. Hi, Damon Fairless here. We have a special bonus episode for you today from the brand new podcast, Bloodlines. It's a co-production between BBC Sounds and CBC Podcasts. And I'm really excited to share it with you because I've been part of the team that's been working on it now for over a year. Let me tell you a bit about it.

It's 2018 in Syria, and ISIS is on the brink of defeat. in Syria, and ISIS is on the brink of defeat. Amid the bombardment and the chaos, a two-year-old boy named Salman disappears along with his mother. And in London, Salman's grandfather is desperate for answers. After the war against the Islamic State was won, what became of the children of its fighters? Children born into or brought into one of the most dangerous regimes in recent history. There are thousands of kids like Salman, with roots in Canada, the UK, the US, and beyond. Many of them are still trapped, without a way back home, paying for the decisions their parents made. My colleague at the BBC, Poonam Taneja, is an investigative reporter who's covered ISIS for years. In Bloodlines, she sets out on a dangerous journey to find out what happened to Salman

and all the other kids like him left behind in the Syrian desert. Here's the first episode of Bloodlines. Have a listen. Say, hello. Say hello. I love you daddy. And time I watched this video. There's a little boy. He's about two. He's super cute and he has these huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's smiling and giggling as his mum coaxes him to say a few words.

His name is Salman. words. His name is Salman. It's a phone video for Salman's grandparents, his daddy and dadu. They're thousands of miles away in England. It was a rare and precious glimpse of their first grandchild. And? Come on, come on. And? Salman, Salman, and? They had never met Salman. Not in person. Videos like this one, a few photos, a few phone calls and messages,

were all they had. And so they treasured them. Salman and his mother Aisha, that's her in the video, were in Syria, a country being ripped apart by war. This video was one of the last

Salman and Aisha sent. Not long after it arrived, the messages stopped. No more videos, no more photos, no more calls. No one knew what had become of Salman. No. That was late 2018.

It's now been almost five years. And still, no one knows. Right, OK, so... I'm going to take the vest, the helmet, the ballistic glasses and the trauma kit? Yeah, that's correct. OK. That's the highest protection you can get.

OK, oh God. Blimey, they are heavy. Out in the Syrian desert, there are two sprawling camps. Tent cities, surrounded by barbed wire and guarded by armed soldiers. They're remnants of one of the most brutal regimes on earth, the so-called Islamic State, IS, what the world once called ISIS. The terror group was largely defeated in 2019. Thousands of its members were killed. The men who were captured were imprisoned.

And most of the women and children were placed in these camps. I think when I get home, I'm just going to try it on again. Yeah. So I can get it on and off really fast. I'll just get used to taking it on and off. I think that's what it is. It's the weight of it. I know know exactly. I've reported from these camps before. What struck me most were the children, thousands of them, children from all corners of

the world, some born into IS, others brought there, all now imprisoned for the actions of their parents. I'm preparing to go back to these camps, to visit these kids again and report on what they're living through, to find out what will become of them. And if Fulman is to be found, if he's still alive, These camps are the place to start looking. OK, so it's a trauma kit, helmet, ballistic glasses and a vest.

I've kitted up like this before, but this trip, it's going to be different. Yeah, that's going to be different. Yeah, that's great. Thank you, Gizzy. Have a safe trip and any issues, give us a call. Yeah, thank you. OK, see you then.

See you later. Along with my flat jacket, my helmet, my recorder and notebooks and maps, I'm also carrying an envelope with photos of a little boy no one has heard from in nearly five years. My name's Poonam Taneja. From BBC Sounds and CBC Podcasts, this is Bloodlines. Well, I just want him back home and just to be a normal grandparent to him, to love him, cater for him.

That's Salman's grandfather, Ash. He's a bus driver from East London. This is from a TV interview with him, shortly after the videos and photos of Salman stopped arriving. What is your concern at the moment about Salman? Concern is locating him and finding out his well-being, where he is, if he's by himself, where he is if he's by himself, unaccompanied. At the time, coalition forces were bombing the last remaining territory IS held in Syria,

exactly where Ash believed Salman and his mother Aisha were. Ash was certain Salman was still alive. He could be lying injured in hospital bed or a camp or whatever. Ash was worried his grandson was lost in one of the desert prison camps. At the time, they were filling up with orphans and widows. And so back in London, he was doing everything he could to get people to care and to help him find his grandson. I've covered IS for the BBC for the past decade. Stories of young people from the UK who travel to the region and join the group. And I was one of the first to report on Ash's story, Salman's story. It got some play for a while,

this cute kid lost in the chaos of war. A few papers picked it up, but interest whittled away pretty quickly. There just wasn't much sympathy for Ash or his missing grandson. And so, before long, the world moved on. And actually, most of Ash's family moved on too. But Ash? Ash never did. Hey, hi Ash.

Hello, good to meet you again. How are you? night. Nice to meet you again. How are you? I'm good to see you again. Are you comfortable being here and chatting here? It's a bit of a secluded park. It's quiet though. Yeah, yeah, take a seat. It's a Friday night in mid-November 2022.

Ash looks older, more tired than I remember. The park we're meeting is cold and eerie. Meeting here, on a bench in the dark, is Ash's idea. He doesn't want his wife, or anyone in his family, to know. How have you been? I've been good. I've been good. Just waiting for some good news to come through. Ash has his phone in his hand. And soon enough, he's showing me photos of Salman. Salman in traditional Arab dress,

another in a blue T-shirt with a shark on it. He's a smiley, happy kid. But then Ash swipes to another photo. Salman's smile is gone. There's a bandage on his forehead. He looks scared and emaciated. to another photo. Salman's smile is gone. There's a bandage on his forehead. He looks scared and emaciated. This is the one I have, yeah.

I've seen it before. I've seen most of these photos before. The videos too. Ash has shared them with me. But today, there's one I haven't seen. Silman, look at me. Where did the donkey go? Where did the donkey go? Where did it go? No, it didn't go to Jannah. Where's Baba?

Silman is lying in a cot, draped with a mosquito net. And what he's saying is that Baba, his father, Ash's son, is in Jannah. Jannah is paradise in Islam, the afterlife. Really? Baba Jannah. Really? Baba Jannah. Baba Jannah. Really? When you look at that, how do you feel?

Yeah, that's my son's son and he looks exactly like him. Ash's son, Salman's father, was named Haroon. Haroon grew up here in East London. Right here, in fact, he played in this park as a boy. We used to come here, we done rollerblading here, we done play tennis here. And generally, yeah, like on hot days, we'd have ice cream. I remember when they were really young. But in 2013, Haroun secretly left the UK for Syria, where he ended up fighting for IS. He also met Aisha, who had traveled there from Canada.

travel there from Canada. They married, and Aisha gave birth to Salman in 2016. Later that year, Haroon was killed by a sniper in Syria. He was 21. Ash and his wife tried to convince Aisha to leave Syria with Salman, but she didn't. I've covered a lot of stories about British citizens who've become foreign fighters. But the Brits who left for Syria and Iraq to live under IS,

it was like nothing I'd seen before. Nothing anyone had seen. IS had this knack, this savvy ability to sell the idea of a perfect Islamic utopia and it appealed to a lot of young men but also a lot of young women and sometimes even entire families

when we first met back in 2019 it was about February, March, I think, and it had just been recently that you'd lost touch with your grandson, Salman. Yeah. So I remember chatting to you, and you were convinced at that time that Salman was alive. Yeah. What about now?

was alive. Yeah. What about now? The thing is, until somebody says otherwise, nobody's stated, shown a body. Yeah, that's proof. And that's clear cut to say, well, you know what, all your efforts, they're going to be in vain. But we've not come to that stage yet. But time has gone on. Do you not think that if he was alive, you would have known by now? Well, the thing is, the reality is, I don't really know. I'd accept it if somebody gives me clear-cut proof.

Up until then, you live in hope when you have ambiguity it's it's a chance it's not 100 it's not zero there is a chance so you're living on that chance and and other children have been rescued, that's factual. So that's kind of like supporting the chance that you're willing to take, because that's your blood. And you know you'd do anything and everything for your blood. there's a detail i should mention shortly after salman went missing ash's family got a strange text it said aisha had been killed but it was from a woman ash had never heard of before a complete stranger and it was suspicious too because it was encrypted and there were absolutely no details, including no mention of Salman. It wasn't nearly enough for Ash to give

up hope. He knows that children did survive, even when their parents were killed, and many of them ended up in these camps I'm going to. Some of the women in these camps have even told me they've looked after unaccompanied children, or know women who did. So is it unlikely I'll find someone? Yeah, probably. Is it totally impossible? No.

I do absolutely not want to get your hopes up. I really don't. I will ask around. I'll do whatever I can. But it is, and I have to tell you, it's going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Yeah. So we'll just leave it at that

and just go with the right motivations and do your best and then we'll just see what comes off it that's all we can actually do because you're willing to go out there and i'm i'm very grateful and not too many people do that. So I can't thank you enough. And then we'll see what your efforts bring about. I can't promise to find Salman, but what I think Hash is hoping for, what I think he really needs, what I think I have a better chance of helping him find,

is just to finally know what happened to his grandson. Going up. Please mind the doors. Doors closing. Going up. Please mind the doors. Doors closing. Going up. There are thousands of people like Ash. Grandparents whose sons and daughters ran off to live under IS. And whose grandchildren are now over the world. Britain, Canada, Trinidad, Australia, Belgium, China, Tunisia, Sudan. Floor three. Door eight. I've spoken to a lot of them.

There's so much shame and fear within these families and so little sympathy outside them. So Ash, talking to me on the record, he's an exception. And so is Charlene. Hi. Hi, Charlene. How are you? I'm all right, thanks. Not too bad. You looking good?

Thanks. Charlene Jack-Henry is an emergency nurse. She lives on the edge of a council estate in West London. I've been speaking with her for the past few years too. We'll be closer. We'll be closer. So close. So close.

Charlene's been cooking her favourite dishes and her flat smells absolutely amazing. On one wall, there's a photo of Charlene's eldest daughter, Nicole. She's wearing a blue shift dress and long white evening gloves. Nicole looks like a young woman who's going places. But her life took a dark turn. The doorbell rang and I answered the doorbell and then it was like three police officers and they said, oh, just can we come in? So they came upstairs and then they told me that

they had information that she and the whole family were in Cyprus and they thought that they were going to Syria. Nicole told Charlene she was moving to Somalia with her husband and their four kids. Really, they were on their way to live under IS. She's been gone for so long now. Charlene hasn't seen Nicole or her grandkids in more than seven years. And today, the day I'm visiting her flat, is especially poignant. I think it just got to me and that it's another birthday passing. And she's 36 years old today. Wow.

You've missed a lot. Yeah, I have. So much. Because when she left, she was in her 20s. Now she's in her mid-30s. her mid-thirties. There are pictures of Charlene's grandkids on her walls too, from when they were much younger. If the tragedy for Ash is not knowing, the tragedy for Charlene

is knowing too much. She knows exactly what happened to her grandkids. They're stuck in one of the camps along with Nicole. That's no place for them kids to grow up. And my fear is that leaving them there will only create a bigger problem for this world. Because if you leave kids in a place where violence and that is normalised,

then you'd just be creating a big problem. Shalene hopes that talking to the media, talking to me, might put pressure on the British government to bring them back. I want them out of that place, but it seems so hopeless. It seems that they've just been abandoned by the British government. But what preoccupies Shalene most of the time are the day-to-day worries. What her grandkids are eating, the lack of clean water and sanitation, the lack of health care, one of them needs an EpiPen,

the constant risk of violence, and the fact that all of this is getting worse, and quickly. You know, sometimes I think, maybe I'll never see them again. Maybe they'll just die out there. The last time I was in Syria, I interviewed Nicole and her kids. This time, I'm hoping to do the same. Charlene, do you want me to pass a message on? Just tell them that I'm here.

If they can't speak for themselves, I will always speak for them. And if it comes to fighting for them, I will fight for them. I have that in me too. Because it seems nobody else is willing to, but I'll do it. As I leave Charlene's flat,

I'm struck by all the other families here in London whose bloodlines have been stolen by IS, who don't want to speak out about it or feel they can't. Charlene's neighbourhood was home to one of the group's most brutal cells. That image you have of a masked executioner standing behind a kneeling prisoner, that man was part of a group of men who lived just a couple of miles down the road. Their hostages called them the Beatles because of their British accents. Together, they were responsible for beheading several journalists and aid workers. And they came to symbolize the barbarity of Islamic State Group.

OK, see you in three weeks, darling. Love you. Love you too. Thank you, sweetheart. That's one of my boys. It's the night before my flight. I've just reminded him where the paperwork is. That's the euphemism I use for my will. This is one of the hardest parts of a trip like this.

OK, and I'll send you pictures if I can. Yeah, same thing. And you do the same. Yeah, I will. OK, see you, darling. Yeah, same thing. And you do the same. Yeah, I will do. OK, see you, darling. Take care. Bye. Love you.

Love you. We have a family WhatsApp group. I'll check in daily and post photos on the road. Quirky stuff, light stuff. But I probably won't speak with my boys for the next few weeks. And I definitely won't tell them about any near misses and skirmishes. It always feels a bit dysfunctional, really, compartmentalising my two lives like this.

I call it going into reporter mode. It's a coping mechanism. And it's kicking into high gear in the hours before I fly. Good morning. Morning. The 11D is right here. Thank you. And there's a screen up there for all your luggage. Good morning, dear guests.

Welcome aboard of Austrian flights to Vienna. It's going to be a long couple of days. From Vienna, I'll fly on to Erbil in Iraqi Kurdistan. From there, I'll cross the border and meet up with my team in northeast Syria. We'll be there for more than three weeks. It'll be me, a local journalist who will also be our driver, a medic who was once with the special forces, and my producer, Juwan Abdi.

Driving to Hasek city, which is the main city of the province, Hasek, northeast Syria. Juwan's based in Europe, but he's originally from Syria. And he's covered the rise and fall of IS extensively. He's left ahead of me to meet Kurdish security officials. We need their permission to access the camps where children are being held. It's a small team.

We need to be agile. And we don't want to stand out. We are now ready for takeoff. Please fasten your seat belt and pull it tight. Make sure that the back of your seat is in its proper position. A few hours later, I touch down in Vienna. I'm checking my phone, and there's a text from Ceylan. In the last few hours, Turkey has launched airstrikes into Syria, targeting the Kurdish forces which guard the bombing. Oh, no.

Yeah, and now they're kind of, you know, emergency things here. The bombs that was near the rig is about, like, 15 kilometres. So nine people got killed. One of them is a local journalist, also 300 people. So just to keep you posted about this. Yeah, no, absolutely. Thank you for doing that. So it's 15 kilometres from where we were going to stay and where you were staying, right? Yes.

OK. All right then, Joanne. OK. Keep me updated. Have a good flight. Yeah, thank you. Keep me updated. OK.

Bye. Bye. I hang up the phone, trying to figure out what this means for the trip, for the story. Then it really hits me. Nine people dead. Three injured. Not far from Joanne.

Just before we take off, I call Joanne back. But it goes to voicemail. Hey, Joanne, just a quick message to you. We're just about to board. Listen, please do be very, very careful. Don't take any risks out there for this, OK? It's all fine. Okay. Speak soon. Next time on Bloodlines.

It looks like actually hundreds of children are buried here. You know, I'm lost for words, actually. It really is a race against time to bring them back. You've been listening to Bloodlines from BBC Sounds and CBC Podcasts. The series concept and reporting by me, Poonam Taneja. It's written and produced by Fiona Woods and Alina Ghosh. Our investigations producer is Jawan Abdi and our contributing producer is Michelle Shepherd.

Fahad Fattah is our field producer. Our sound designer is Julia Whitman. Original score by Phil Channel. Thank you. Producer and story editor is Damon Fairless for CBC Podcasts. Executive editor for BBC Sounds is James Cook. The executive producers of CBC Podcasts are Cecil Fernandes and Chris Oak. Tanya Springer is the senior manager of CBC Podcasts and Arif Noorani is the director. Claire McGinn is the executive director of BBC's Creative Development Unit. BBC Commissioner is Ahmed Hussain, Head of the BBC Asian Network. Thank you for listening to Bloodlines.

That was an episode from Bloodlines. You can listen to more episodes right now on the CBC Listen app and everywhere you get your podcasts. You can listen to more episodes right now on the CBC Listen app and everywhere you get your podcasts. For more CBC podcasts, go to cbc.ca slash podcasts.