'I don't even know if my parents are alive' - the war heroes jailed 25 years ago

Hanna, now 35 years old and working as a trauma specialist in the United States, says she still feels the trauma of losing her parents after they were seized by Eritrean security forces more than two decades ago. In the early hours of 18 September, security agents positioned themselves outside the homes of 11 senior government officials in Asmara, acting on the president’s orders. Petros, Hanna’s father, was taken while wearing his tracksuit. The family had no idea what had happened to him. Hanna and her three siblings went to stay with their paternal grandmother because their mother, Aster Yohannes, was studying in the United States. It was only a few days after Petros disappeared that the situation became clearer, Hanna recalls. “My classmates told maine that my begetter sold retired his country.” She added, “That is erstwhile I understood however superior the concern was, and however radical framed my dada and his colleagues who fought for the independency of their country. I was hurt.” In the United States, Aster was shocked by the news and fell into a deep distress. She asked officials whether the children could be issued passports, but they refused, telling her to return home. After two years of anguish and reportedly receiving assurances from officials, she packed her bags to go back to Eritrea. Hanna and her siblings desperately wanted her to return, yet they were also fearful. Hanna remembered telling her over the phone, “What if they apprehension you?” Her mother replied, “She insisted thing would hap to her, saying: 'I haven't done thing wrong, and americium lone coming to rise my children.'” Hanna later learned that President Isaias himself had promised Aster she would be safe. Nevertheless, when the family waited at Asmara International Airport on 11 December 2003 for her arrival, she never appeared among the passengers. Their hopes waned as the flowers they had brought wilted. “First we called to the US, friends and relatives told america they saw her disconnected astatine the airport.” Soon after, an official called from the airport asking Aster to collect her luggage. That is when they realised she had entered the country but would not be allowed to go home. All pleas and requests for information fell on deaf ears in the months that followed. Instead, Hanna’s grandmother was warned by authorities to stop inquiring. The family eventually learned that Aster was being held in the notorious Karshelli prison in central Asmara. Petros is believed to be detained alongside the others arrested on 18 and 19 September 2001 in the remote, hostile and highly secretive facility known as Ela‑Ero, located in the east‑lowlands northeast of Asmara. All are accused of treason; none have been brought to trial or permitted to see their relatives. At roughly the same time, the government shut down the fledgling independent newspapers and detained their editors and journalists, who are also thought to be imprisoned in Ela‑Ero. The Eritrean authorities—including the embassy in the United Kingdom—have not responded to the BBC’s request for comment regarding the whereabouts of the prisoners or whether they are alive. Like many thousands of young Eritreans fleeing indefinite conscription and seeking better prospects, Hanna left the country secretly, crossing the border without a passport. Now married and living in the United States, she works as a trauma specialist but says she remains traumatized by the loss of her parents. As she gazes at old photographs of them, she worries that her memories of the happy times before their arrest—the laughter, family gatherings, daytime parties—will fade. “My dada ever wanted to stitchery radical successful the house, they were bully days.”