Wednesday, 26 March 2025 (10.00 am)

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Well, good morning, everyone.

And good morning especially to the family and friends of the victims of this terrible tragedy. They are watching online or they are here with us in London. As you know, over the next day and a half we will receive evidence about those who died, from their loved ones and those closest to them.

I said from the very outset and it continues to be the case that we have always sought to keep them at the centre of our work and give a direct voice to those affected by the tragedy. I now call on Rory Phillips, King’s Counsel, who is counsel to the Inquiry, to tell us about the structure of the day.

Introduction to family impact evidence by MR PHILLIPS KC

MR PHILLIPS: Thank you, sir.

The structure of these days will be as follows: we will hear 27 accounts in total; 19 today and a further 8 tomorrow.

Each account has been recorded in the original language by, or on behalf of, the statement maker.

The recordings will be followed in each case by a member of your Inquiry team reading an English language version of the relevant parts of the statement.

And the recordings and readings will be accompanied by images on screen of those who died or remain missing.

Two further introductory points, if I may.

As I have said, in some cases, the original language recording has been made by someone other than the statement maker and on their behalf and, secondly, in some cases, more than one statement has been made in respect of an individual and where either of those circumstances applies, I will make that clear.

Before the first recording is played, I should give a warning. What we are about to hear over the next two days may be distressing to those in the room or to those following on the livestream and if so, they should leave the room or look away, as the case may be.

The first two recordings and statements you will hear are made by the brother and cousin of Halima Mohamed Shikh who was born in 1988. The original language you will hear is Somalian.

Statement of MR ABDULLAHI MOHAMUD HASSAN (in Somalian) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Abdullahi Hassan, the brother of Halima Mohamed Shikh. Halima was my younger sister, she had three children. Before Halima left Somalia, she was spending her time looking after her children. She lived in Mogadishu with her children until she left Somalia some time in 2019. While Halima was still in Somalia, we used to spend a lot of time together with our children and other family members.

Halima left Somalia because of the political instability and violence. I heard about the incident of 23-24 November 2021 from my cousin Ali Areef. I cannot recall exactly when Ali called me to say that Halima had been in an accident and that she had died trying to cross the Channel from France to the UK, but it must have been around the last days of November 2021.

I recall that Ali said the bodies had not yet been formally identified, but that he was almost sure Halima had died in this tragedy.

After Ali told me this information, I called my mother to tell her what I had heard. I started looking on the news to see if there was anything about the incident. I watched some footage on the BBC and read about the incident. I learnt that many people had lost their lives.

At this time, the bodies had not been identified and there was no information about Halima. It was only on around 14 December 2021 that I received a photo of Halima’s face from the morgue. Halima was my only full sibling and I loved her in a way that I have never loved anyone else. I find it so painful thinking about what happened to her. Every time I am asked about her or I try to remember specific details, I just start to cry uncontrollably and I cannot find the words to talk about her.

It is better for me not to think about it too much, as I feel overwhelmed by the emotions. My entire family are still grieving the loss of Halima. My mother is unable to speak about Halima without breaking down emotionally. Halima’s children continue to suffer the loss of their mother, but we are doing everything we can as a family to support them and give them the love they need.

And we will next hear the recording and statement made by Halima’s cousin.

Statement of MR ALI AREEF in Somalian (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Ali Areef, the first cousin of Halima Mohamed Shikh. I am originally from Somalia. However, I left Somalia in around 2008 and am now a Norwegian national. Halima is my paternal cousin. I had not seen Halima since she was five years old until I met her in Paris in early November 2021. I had known Halima and her family, including Abdullahi when I was a child.

We spent a lot of time together when we were growing up in Somalia. I met her again in Paris in 2021 because I happened to be in Paris to visit some friends of mine, including my brother-in-law. I was in Paris for around a week between 4 and 11 November 2021. I saw Halima several times when I was there. During those days that we spent together we were mostly reminiscing with each other about our childhoods and catching up about our families.

Halima had three children who are now 13, 11 and nine. They are currently all still living in Somalia.

I remember that when we were together in Paris I felt worried about her. She seemed very low and worried all of the time.

I first heard that Halima might have lost her life around two or three days after the incident because a friend of Halima’s contacted me. I had already seen in the UK news that many people had lost their lives in the Channel on 24 November 2021 and then I was told that it was possible this was the boat Halima was on.

I remember that I was completely shocked by this phone call. The entire thing seemed unbelievable. I had just seen Halima about 10 days before, having not seen her since she was five years old and suddenly I was told that she might have died.

The woman who had informed some of mine and Halima’s friends about the incident also explained that there was a Somali survivor from the incident who was in the hospital. I was given his number, but was told that he was in a critical condition and that it might be difficult for him to speak to me. I called him a few days later. Mr Issa Mohammed spoke to me on the phone and he explained to me what had happened.

I asked him if he could confirm whether Halima had been on that boat and if she had died. I sent a photo to Mr Mohammed of Halima and I in Paris the week before and he confirmed that she had died. He told me that he was with Halima until she died and that he had heard her last words before she died.

He heard her shouting, “Help me, I don’t want to die” after the boat capsized and she was in the water. I now know that Halima was not able to swim.

I knew that I had to share this information about Halima’s death with Halima’s mother and the rest of her family in Somalia. I know that Halima’s mother was completely broken by the loss of her daughter and that she continues to suffer every day.

Looking back now. There are many questions that I did not ask Halima about her life when we met in Paris, which I now wish I had. It had been a long time since we had seen each other and we were getting to know each other again. I was so shocked and confused when I first found out she had died.

I could not really understand it at first. I still fixate on this cruel coincidence. She had just come back into my life and we had reconnected and then suddenly she was gone.

It is painful to think about her three children losing their mother in such a tragic way. I do not know how much they really understand about what happened. When I spoke with her mother, she told me that Halima’s youngest child still thinks that she might come back one day and that he will see his mother again.

Abdullahi has told me that he and the rest of the family in Somalia are grieving every day. His mother still cries every time that Halima is mentioned. It has been extremely hard for her and she is now the main carer for Halima’s children.

Halima was a good person with a good character. She was loved by those around her and kind to everyone. Fate has taken her away. We must learn to accept it but it is very hard.

I will never take a ferry across the Channel again or go to Paris. This tragic incident is never far away from my mind and it makes me feel sick to think about crossing the Channel in a ferry where others including a member of my family lost their lives because there was no other way to cross.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Yassin, the father of Rezhwan Yassin Hassan. Rezhwan was born in 2002. You will hear two voices on the recording. First Yassin’s and then that of his daughter, who has recorded the statement on his behalf. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR YASSIN HASSAN HAMAD (in Sorani) (Audio, read by daughter, played to the Inquiry)

MS ONABANJO: I am Yassin Hassan Hamad, the father of Rezhwan Yassin Hassan and the distant cousin to two of the other victims, Mohammed Qadar and Zanyar Mustafa. I live with my wife and our four remaining children. I have two daughters and two sons. Rezhwan was our second oldest child. He lived with us before he left Kurdistan. Rezhwan was 19 years old when he left Kurdistan. Rezhwan was a kind and clever young man, he loved spending time with people and he was always respectful.

Before leaving Iraq, Rezhwan was a student at school. He was one of the top students at his school and he really wanted to carry on learning anything he could. I remember he was good at everything at school, anyone who met him would immediately sense how intelligent he was.

Rezhwan and I were very close. We were not simply father and son but also very close friends. Every evening we would come together and joke around about the events of the day. Without this, Rezhwan would not go to sleep. This is what we both looked forward to during the day.

Rezhwan left Kurdistan on 20 October 2021. He had gone for about a month and four days when the incident happened. I was in contact with Rezhwan throughout his journey via WhatsApp. We would exchange messages and have calls. I spoke to him almost every day.

My last contact with Rezhwan was around 8 pm Kurdistan time, 6 pm GMT on 23 November 2021. He was mostly calling me rather than his mother because whenever his mother heard his voice she would start crying. I was the last person from the family to have contact with my son.

I first heard about the incident when I was watching the news on television at home in the late afternoon on 24 November 2021. As soon as I saw the news, I had a bad feeling. About 10 days after the incident, an organisation contacted us about providing DNA samples to be sent to France. They contacted us to say they were contacting all families who had loved ones missing to determine if their loved ones were victims from 23 to 24 November 2021.

It was another 10 days, 20 days after the incident, that we received confirmation as a result of the DNA match that Rezhwan was one of the victims. Rezhwan’s body was repatriated to Kurdistan with the other bodies on around 26 December 2021. I remember that we went to the airport two or three times to meet his body, only to be told that there was some delay. I do not know why this happened.

With brought Rezhwan’s body back to Qadrawa and we had a burial ceremony for him at the mosque near our home in late December 2021. Rezhwan is buried next to Mohammed Qadar. Until very recently, I would go to visit Rezhwan’s grave every day.

I am currently suffering with some health issues which means I have very little energy and so I can only go every two days or so.

The impact has been massive. I do not know where to start. I mostly isolate myself and I am suffering from poor health now. I do not have energy to go to work. My wife is also very tired because of the grief and we are both suffering. From the day that this happened, everything changed. My home used to have a different lively atmosphere and now we do not socialise with people anymore.

I barely have energy to do anything, not even work. My other children are going through similar feelings and when we heard about the incident, they stopped going to school because of the grief. We are all still suffering.

It has almost been three years since his death and the pain is still there all the time. My wife feels that a part of her is dying every day. Nothing could ever replace him and the pain will never go away because nothing can resolve the pain of losing a child.

He will be missed forever and we are changed forever as people and as a family.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Ahmed, the father of Afrasia Ahmed Mohammed. Afrasia was born in 1994. You will hear two voices on the recording. First, Ahmed’s and then that of his son, who has recorded the statement on his behalf. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement by MR AHMED MOHAMMED AHMED (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MR BROWN: I am Ahmed Mohammed Ahmed, the father of Afrasia Ahmed Mohammed. My wife and I had nine children including Afrasia; four daughters and five sons. My wife and I live with three of our sons. Afrasia was very smart. He graduated from high school in 2015. He applied to university, but he did not get accepted so he tried to find work instead. Life is very difficult here. He left Iraq on 26 October 2021.

To identify the body, we were asked to send DNA samples to France and they confirmed that my son was dead. I cannot speak in detail about these events as it’s very traumatic.

For one month after my son’s body was returned to us, all I could do was cry. I cried so much that it affected my vision. My family had to help me find the bathroom because I could not see. My wife fainted when she heard that Afrasia was dead and she fainted again when she saw the body in Erbil Airport.

Every week, I go to his grave in the Rania Cemetery and I cry. All the happiness has been taken from our lives. My wife cannot cope with the grief. She cries every day for our son.

We have suffered a terrible loss and we have suffered more in the three years since the incident, when it felt like the French — the UK and French authorities were not taking action. Nothing can take away the pain from the loss of our son.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by the father of Zanyar Mustafa Mina, who was born in 2001. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR MUSTAFA MINA NABI (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS WOODS: I am Musafa Mina Nabi, the father of Zanyar Mustafa Mina. I live with my wife. We have five children together; three of them live with me in Kurdistan. Zanyar was the second eldest of my children; he was 20 years old when he left Iraq. Before he left Iraq, he had been very active and was healthy. He often played football and went swimming in the local lake with his friends. He was very energetic and smart and loved by his family and friends. He was a very kind person and he always wanted to help people. He had gone to school until he was 17, Year 12, but did not graduate.

On 22 or 23 September 2021, he left Kurdistan. My last photo of us together is from Erbil Airport. My last contact with my son was a phone call on 23 November 2021. Zanyar sent me a message at 8.34 pm Iraqi time saying, “I am leaving now”. I never heard from him again.

I tried to call Zanyar and Rezhwan during the night, but they did not answer. When we saw the news on TV that a boat had sunk and people had died, I was worried that I still had not heard from my son. I was able to keep in control of my emotions because of my background in the military. I am used to witnessing horrible things and I have had to cope with very difficult situations, so I was able to stay calm.

I tried to convince my wife that it could not have been the boat Zanyar was travelling on. For three days we tried to convince ourselves that Zanyar had been rescued and was detained by the British authorities. We kept on top of the news and we tried to call Zanyar. My wife still had doubts, but I held out hope that Zanyar would contact us.

On 28 November 2021, two TV channels in Kurdistan broadcasted a report which talked about the boat and how most of the South Kurdistan victims were from our area. My wife had already been scared because we had not yet heard from Zanyar and she became more and more worried that our son had been on the boat.

In early December 2021, we were asked to provide DNA samples for the French authorities identifying the bodies from the shipwreck. On 14 December, there was some kind of meeting with representatives from Lootka and the Kurdistan Regional Government in Paris, where they announced the list of names of the victims. Lootka published a list of the victims and Zanyar was on the list.

They gave the names of all of those they had identified and also those they believed were on the boat but had not yet been found. Zanyar was one of those classed as missing. Zanyar is still missing.

We have never received any formal communications from the French or English authorities regarding efforts to locate Zanyar and the other missing victims and we do not know what the coastguard did to locate them at the time.

I have been in contact with various organisations who have contacted us, including a European human rights organisation, but I do not remember the names. No one has been able to provide me more information about this.

What happened was a big tragedy. Everyone loves their children, but I believe the pain for us is greater than those who have had the bodies of their loved ones returned, as at least they have been able to provide their loved ones with a resting place and are able to have some sort of closure. Not knowing what has happened to my son has been awful and no one has found his body, which makes it even worse.

My wife keeps saying she wishes his body had been brought back. She would rather know for certain that he has died than not knowing anything at all. Whenever we visit Rezhwan’s grave, my wife says there is an empty space and that she wishes that she could visit Zanyar there.

Sometimes my wife will get up in the middle of the night and start praying for Zanyar to be found. She has been traumatised by losing our son. She cries constantly and is always really sad.

She has days where she is unable to do anything. I am probably doing better than most other family members because my experiences in the military mean I have been through a lot and seen a lot, which has made me more emotionally resilient to the trauma that we have all experienced.

It has affected my other children a lot. My oldest child still in Kurdistan is 18, but he has a mental disability which means he thinks like a child. The loss has affected him enormously as he was very close to Zanyar. He does not really understand what happened.

My youngest child keeps asking questions about Zanyar, where he is, and why my other son cannot get him from France. We try to distract him and change the subject, but he keeps asking questions.

That line of questioning has been really hard for me and my wife to answer and deal with. My daughter keeps herself busy by helping to look after my youngest, but she often gets very upset. I am very upset that no one has told us what they are doing to locate those still missing. In three years we have been given no information.

I want to come to France and England to look for my son. Sometimes I still believe he could be in a hospital or prison somewhere.

Not knowing is the worst part and my family and I hope that the Inquiry will investigate properly what happened to those still missing. We will not rest until we know what happened to Zanyar.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by the father of Mohammed Hussein Mohammedie, who was born in 2002. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR HUSSEIN MOHAMMEDIE (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Hussein Mohammedie, the father of Mohammed Hussein Mohammedie. I am an Iranian national born in 1968. I fled Iran in 1988 aged 20 and came to Kurdistan.

We have suffered financial hardship as a result of being refugees. I live with my wife and my daughter. She is 23 years old. Mohammed was the middle child of three; he lived with us before leaving Kurdistan.

Mohammed was 19 years old when he left Kurdistan. I received his body back on his 20th birthday. Mohammed was a special child. He was always listening and did what I asked him. I can remember he had a bicycle. Whenever I asked him to get or do something for me, he would cycle there right away.

At school he was loved by everyone, especially the teachers. They would tell me that my children had a different upbringing to other youths, that they were so polite. All his teachers from Year 1 until Year 12 came to our house after they heard about his death and told us how much they loved him and how sad they were to hear of the tragedy.

Mohammed was often complaining that I had not been brave enough to leave Iraq. He wanted to be different, he wanted to be brave. He was a very good son and was very good to me and his mother. He never gave us any reason to be angry or upset with him.

Mohammed was very close with his siblings and was always helping them out. We had a motorbike and Mohammed and I would take turns to bring his youngest sibling to school. Before leaving Iraq, Mohammed was helping me with the farm.

He had completed his Grade 12 education and passed his exams with flying colours.

Mohammed left Kurdistan on 18 August 2021. I recall every second of it. I was in regular contact with my son through WhatsApp calls throughout his journey. The evening of 23rd November 2021 he called me at 8.35 pm Iraqi time and told me they were travelling as a family. I know he was with Shakar, Harem and Twana. He spoke to every member of our family that night at 8.35 pm.

We gathered around the phone to hear from him. His sister was crying because she missed him. I had no contact with Mohammed after he got on the boat. The 8.35 pm call was the last time I spoke with my son.

On the evening of 24 November 2021, we knew Mohammed was on the boat that capsized. There is a Kurdish journalist in Europe who works on issues to do with asylum seekers, so when the news broke, he had gone to see the bodies. We contact him during a live broadcast and sent him a photo of Mohammed and he confirmed that Mohammed was amongst the victims.

I cannot describe how we felt. What can one do when hearing such news?

We were asked to provide a DNA sample to France which we sent. We were never formally told anything about Mohammed, but after that, they issued the death certificate and the bodies were sent back to us.

We were not contacted by anyone as an individual family. There was one person who worked on repatriating the bodies; this process took about a month. We buried Mohammed in Kurdistan.

I spoke to the Kurdish survivor shortly after the incident happened. The survivor said that people in the water started taking the life-jackets off. Because of the cold and the pain, they wanted to sink and die, but not my son. He wanted to live.

I was told by the survivor that my son was the last one alive before they rescued the survivor. He told me that if they had rescued them half an hour sooner, then my son would be alive.

It has affected us in a way that we will never forget. Imagine your child gets into trouble in the water and you are not there and cannot help him. Imagine he stays in the water for 12 hours and no one comes to his rescue.

This is what we are always thinking about.

It always stays in the front of your mind, the effect is there always. It makes life more difficult. When you lose someone, you will always remember the grief, it hurts a lot.

If what the survivor told me is right, had the coastguard arrived 30 minutes earlier my son would have lived. This I cannot bear and can never forgive.

I will never forget the people in the water. They were there for 12 hours. Their organs stopped working because of the cold. Why were they not rescued?

We have lost our loved one. Mohammed became a victim. I have no expectations from anyone anymore.

MR PHILLIPS: Shall we have a break?

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: A 10-minute break. Thank you very much. (11.02 am) (A short break) (11.16 am)

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Mr Phillips.

MR PHILLIPS: Sir, the next recording and statement is made by the father of Muslim Ismael Hamad who was born in 2002. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR ISMAEL HAMAD KHUDHUR (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Ismael Hamad Khudhur, the father of Muslim Ismael Hamad.

I was born and raised in Soran and have lived here all my life. I presently live with my wife and our five younger children. My son Muslim Ismael Hamad Muslim, born on 14 January 2002, was the second oldest of the seven children I share with my wife Asmar.

Muslim was an Iraqi national and prior to his departure from Kurdistan in October 2021, he lived in our family home in Soran with my wife and the rest of our younger children.

Muslim was a beautiful boy. He was an active child, he played sports from a young age and was a good swimmer.

Muslim and I were very close. We shared a special bond from when he was a young boy. As a child, Muslim was energetic and fell of dreams. He loved to play outside with his friends. He loved school. He would always tell me that he wished to be a doctor or an engineer. He was extremely good at his studies.

My wife and I were very proud of him.

Muslim was a remarkably kind and caring boy. From when he was a young child, Muslim was very protective of his younger sisters and brothers and took care of them in any way he could.

He felt similarly protective of his mother and would always help her around the house and look after her when she was tired or unwell.

As he grew older, he began to recognise the financial problems that our family struggled with. He made the difficult decision to drop out of school after completing Year 11 when he was around 17 years old to help me with my work trading ceramic tiles in the market.

I remember when he made the decision. He told me that it was impossible to work and study at the same time and that he would rather put his dreams on hold so that he could contribute to our family’s income.

His aim was to help provide for us all and in particular, for his siblings.

When Muslim started working with me, we spent almost every day together. Our relationship, which was always close, evolved into a sort of friendship. Muslim and I shouldered the difficulties of providing for our family together and I felt as if I had a partner to help me through my worries and my troubles.

I remember him telling me that he wanted his younger siblings to have a better life, to go to school and be educated and to not be reliant on the help of others. We would get up every morning at about 7 am, walk to the market in Soran and spend the whole day working together.

In September of 2021, Muslim sat me down and told me that there was something he wanted to discuss with me. He told me that he wished to travel to the UK. On 31 October 2021, Muslim boarded a flight from Erbil Airport. Our entire family, including my wife and all of Muslim’s siblings, went to Erbil Airport to see him off.

It was an emotional event. He had never left home before and we did not know when we would see him again. We took photos and videos and said tearful goodbyes to him.

Muslim would video call me almost every day, to update me on where and how he was. I spoke with Muslim at around 2 pm GMT on the afternoon of 23 November 2021. That was the last time I spoke with Muslim.

I tried to call him again a few hours later, but his phone seemed to be switched off.

At approximately midnight on 24 November, Kurdistan time, I was at my friend’s house in Soran and his TV was showing Rudaw, the main news channel here in Kurdistan. It was reported that a boat had sunk in the English Channel.

I had a bad feeling. But I hoped that Muslim had not been on that boat and that he had made it safely to the UK.

In the days and weeks that followed, I kept holding out hope that Muslim had arrived safely in the UK and that he would contact me. I would tell myself that Muslim had just been unable to get hold of a phone and that he would call me any second now. I remember always keeping my phone close to me. I felt unable to put it down and was checking it constantly.

As the days went on I continued to call Muslim’s phone repeatedly, but my calls went unanswered.

A few days after the incident, I attended the mourning of Maryam Noori Ameen, held by her father who is my friend. I knew from Noori that Maryam was one of the first people identified as having been on the boat which had sunk trying to cross the Channel.

After that, my wife and I travelled to a hospital in Suleymaniyah, where my wife gave a DNA sample for testing.

There was no news for a number of weeks after that. During that time, I kept telling myself, my wife and other children that Muslim was merely finding it difficult to get a phone in the UK and that at any moment I would get a call from him and everything would be all right.

One evening a few weeks later, my family and I were at home. We were watching Rudaw. They interrupted their broadcast to announce that the French authorities had finished testing DNA samples, provided by a number of families in Kurdistan, against the bodies recovered in the English Channel on 24 November 2021.

They began to announce the names of the people whose bodies had been identified. When they announced Muslim’s name, I remember that we all broke down. My wife and children were crying and I felt stunned and in disbelief.

I do not remember much about the hours and days which followed, except that I still could not believe that my son was dead.

Shortly after the announcement on Rudaw, I received a letter from the Kurdistan Regional Government with instructions as to how and when I could go to the airport in Erbil to collect Muslim’s body. I travelled to the airport with one of Muslim’s friends and we waited at the airport for over 24 hours for the bodies to arrive.

All the other families and I were taken to a large hall in which there were a number of boxes labelled with names. One of the boxes had Muslim’s name on it. It was at that point that I realised my son was gone and that he was never going to return.

Muslim is buried close to our home in Soran where he spent his life. Muslim touched many hearts in his short life and there was not one day during the mourning period that our home was not filled with people who came to mourn him.

The pain which losing Muslim has caused to me and my family is indescribable. It feels as if we are broken and that we will never be whole again.

Muslim lives on in our memory and he will never be forgotten. We visit his grave as a family every Thursday and we pray for him.

My children have been severely affected by Muslim’s death, my 12-year-old son was recently diagnosed with diabetes and the doctor examining him came to me after the appointment and told me that something was seriously affecting my son’s mental health. I know that it is the loss of his older brother.

My youngest children, who are three and eight years old respectively, are too young to understand exactly what happened, but my 8-year-old in particular will often ask after Muslim, which breaks my heart.

My wife has been devastated by this loss. She looks at photographs and videos of Muslim constantly and tells me that one day he will return to us. Muslim’s bedroom has been untouched since the day he left Kurdistan and his things are exactly as he last left them. The door is locked and she allows no one to enter or even to touch the doorknob. My wife is suffering profoundly. She tells me that every corner of our home is filled with memories of Muslim’s life; the chair on which he used to sit, the kitchen which he would insist she leave so he could do the washing-up, and the spot where he would hug her goodnight every evening. My wife has begged me to find us a new home and I am doing everything in my power to ensure this.

We cannot continue to live in the home where Muslim was raised as it is much too painful for us all.

For my own part, I feel as if I have lost not just my son but also my best friend and the only person with whom I could share my troubles and my burdens. Muslim was a really special person. Like any parent, his dreams were my dreams and I wished for him to achieve everything that his heart desired. It pains me deeply that he was unable to do so.

Muslim’s dreams, as well as mine, died with him that night in the Channel.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Qadar, the father of Mohammed Qadar Awla, who the Inquiry believes was 18 years old when he died. You will hear two voices on the recording, first, Qadar’s and then that of his son who has recorded the statement on his behalf. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR QADAR AWLA (in Sorani) (Audio, read by son, played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Qadar Awla, the father of Mohammed Qadar Awla.

I am getting older and I have been struggling with my memory.

The death of my son and the events of 23 and 24 November 2021 have caused me a great deal of trauma and I struggle to talk or think about it.

I live on a small farm in rural Kurdistan. My wife and I had five sons, Mohammed was the second youngest. At the time of Mohammed’s departure from Kurdistan, he also lived in the family home with me, my wife and his youngest brother.

Mohammed was 18 years old when he left Kurdistan. Mohammed had lots of friends and he was popular as a person. People liked to be around him. He wanted a good future and he wanted to look after us, his family. Those were his ambitions. He was a very kind person.

Mohammed attended school up until the final year of high school. He loved school and he was a really good student. Mohammed worked alongside attending school. He would often help my wife and me at the farm after school. I do not remember the exact date that Mohammed left Kurdistan. I think it was in late September or early October 2021; it was around two months before he died.

Whenever he had a chance, he would call. This would sometimes be multiple times a day and sometimes once a day at night. On the night of the crossing, Mohammed called me whilst he was on the boat. That was the last time I spoke to my son. He left one voice message during the journey that he was okay and that he was almost there. He said he would hopefully call me later.

I do not remember the exact time that message was sent, but it was very late at night.

The next day, I woke up and had not heard anything further from my son. I spent the whole day worrying. That evening, I saw on social media that a boat had sunk. The uncertainty was horrible. I kept having terrible dreams for the weeks following this, until I discovered what had happened. I still suffer from nightmares.

As more time passed, my wife and I had a really bad feeling. We knew something was wrong because we had not heard from Mohammed for weeks but we only had confirmation that Mohammed was dead one month after the attempted crossing.

My wife was asked to send a DNA sample to France in order to identify whether Mohammed’s body had been found. It was a match and it confirmed the body was our son’s.

When it was confirmed that Mohammed was among the dead, it was the most difficult thing I have ever had to come to terms with in my life. I was devastated. The French consulate arranged for the bodies to be repatriated. It was an extremely difficult time. On three occasions we were told that the bodies would be arriving. We travelled to Erbil Airport, only to be told there was some delay and Mohammed was not there.

It was only on the fourth attempt we were able to travel to collect Mohammed’s body. Mohammed was buried in Qadrawa. The memorial service was 12 days long. We were surrounded by family that whole time. He had so many friends who wanted to mourn him.

When you lose a loved one, the pain never goes away. We are still suffering today and my family are not doing well. The incident and the length of time we have had to wait for justice has had a terrible impact on us. My wife has not been the same since Mohammed died. She is always sad and cries a lot. She can only think of our son.

The sorrow in my heart will be with me for the rest of my life until my dying day. Nothing can bring Mohammed back or take away the pain. No matter what they do, my son is irreplaceable. Not all the wealth in the world could fix this. He did not deserve this fate and my family and I will love, mourn and miss him forever.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Mohammed, the father of Hasan Mohammed Ali. Hasan was born in 1984. You will hear two voices on the recording; first, Mohammed’s and then that of his son, who has recorded the statement on his behalf. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR MOHAMMED ALI ISMAIL ALI (in Sorani) (Audio, read by son, played to the Inquiry)

MR DAVIES: I am Mohammed Ali Ismail Ali, the father of Hasan Mohammed Ali. I live in a town called Qaladiza, which is near Sulaymaniyah in the Kurdistan region of Iraq. I am retired now. I live with my wife, Khaj. Together we have had 13 children; 12 sons, including Hasan, and one daughter.

Hasan lived with us before he left Kurdistan. Hasan was unmarried and did not have any children. Before he left Iraq, he was working in the Peshmerga like I had. He had been in the military for 20 years. He worked often with his brother who was also in the Peshmerga. In his spare time, Hasan spent time with his family at home or with friends. He had a lot of people who loved him and liked spending time with him.

Hasan was a lovely man. He was very gentle and kind-spirited. He spent a lot of time with me and we used to work together before I retired. He had a strong bond with his siblings and his mother. His siblings thought he was very brave and strong. He was always respectful towards other people and wanted to help people where he could.

We miss him very much. Before he left Iraq in 2021, Hasan tried to leave Kurdistan once before, in summer 2019. I do not know exactly what happened or where he went, but I believe he returned voluntarily because his mother had been really upset and was suffering without him.

She had fainted three times out of fear and worry for him. When he returned, Hasan remained in Kurdistan for two years. I believe he had wanted to give Kurdistan another chance.

My wife and I were very upset that Hasan decided to leave. He was a very good son and we were extremely close. I wanted him to stay.

He was so lovely to me and his mother and we were sad not to have him close. We did have faith he would be going somewhere safe where he would be protected. We thought he would still be in communication even if only by phone or video. Nothing could have prepared us for losing our son.

Hasan left Kurdistan on 12 October 2021. I spoke with Hasan only a few times on his brother’s phone whilst he was on his journey, but he was in relevant contact with his brothers. He spoke with them on the phone and they messaged frequently. On 23 November 2021, my wife and I received a phone call from Hasan in the late afternoon.

This phone call was the last contact I had with my son. At no point during the night of 23 to 24 November 2021 was I aware that Hasan’s boat was sinking or that he was in danger. I was not aware that anything had happened until I saw the news the next day.

I saw on Facebook that a boat had sunk attempting to cross the Channel. I had not heard from Hasan, so I was very worried. My family and I felt helpless. We did not know what to do being so far away. Shortly after the incident, an organisation called Lootka got in touch with us. They asked us to give them DNA samples. A few weeks later, they told us they had identified Hasan’s body. Up until this point, we had been hopeful Hasan was alive. We were distraught I have struggled to speak about how I felt receiving the news; it is too painful. The pain of losing my son has been too much to bear. Just thinking about losing Hasan makes me cry.

The whole family went into shock hearing what had happened to Hasan. I cannot explain in words the impact on our family. We are still in mourning three years on. I do not think we will ever recover from this loss. No parent should lose a child, no matter their age. Everyone has been so upset and I do not think the grief will ever leave us.

Hasan’s mother still cries all the time. I try to be strong for the family, but I am an old man and I cannot bear to think what my son went through. Going on living without him is a struggle every day, the sadness is overwhelming.

The world is less bright without Hasan. I do not feel my family has lost a relative — just a relative, we have all lost a true friend and caretaker.

We miss him every day. I miss laughing and talking with him in the family home and watching him interact with his mother and siblings. He had lived with us for his whole life and his loss is felt deeply.

Hasan’s body has been brought back from France. I think the Kurdistan Regional Government paid for this and we are so grateful for this.

We have been able to give Hasan a proper burial and have a grave where we can go when we wish to be near him, but nothing will ever bring my son back. I am so devastated that this was able to happen and no-one came to rescue my son and the others who were in the boat with him.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Karim, the brother of Bryar Hamad Abdulrahman. Bryar was born in 1998. You will hear two voices on the recording; first, Karim’s and then that of the reader who has recorded the statement on his behalf. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR KARIM HAMAD ABDULRAHMAN (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MR BROWN: I am Karim Hamad Abdulrahman, brother of Bryar Hamad Abdulrahman.

Bryar was one of eight siblings; six brothers and two sisters. I am the eldest sibling and Bryar was the second eldest. Bryar was a very kind and happy person who got along well with his family. Bryar attended school until he was 14 years old in Year 8.

He really enjoyed school but he was not able to continue because of financial difficulties. My father and I funded his education. We told him that we would work and pay for him so he could continue going to school.

However, in Year 8, Bryar told us that he understood that it was too expensive and that we could not afford it. My family did not have to pay school fees for Bryar, but the costs of going to school, such as buying clothes, books and paying for transport, were difficult to afford.

My family could not afford to pay the bus fair to school and so Bryar had to walk an hour each way. Life is difficult here because of poverty. Bryar left Kurdistan on 12 July 2021.

He mostly spoke to my mother on his journey across Europe and he called her almost every day. I would speak to him two or three times a week.

I last spoke to my brother on 23 November 2021. He spoke to everyone in the family shortly before he got in the boat. It was a video call. He told me he missed everyone. My youngest brother and my son were asleep. He asked us to wake them up because he wanted to speak to everyone.

We were not aware at that time that the boat was in difficulties. The next night, Bryar’s uncle came to visit us. He informed us that he had heard that a boat had sunk between France and the UK. We waited to see whether we would hear from Bryar and we were very, very worried.

After two or three days, I knew something was wrong. When we called Bryar, his phone was off.

We then called Bryar’s friends who told us that they had not heard from him either. We came to believe that Bryar was among the victims from news reports. Before we received the DNA test results back, we knew that it was likely that Bryar had died.

As a family, before the DNA results came back we decided to keep what we heard from the news from my mother. We kept the news from her for about 10 days as we were concerned about protecting her health. She was already in a poor state because she was very worried.

Since losing Bryar, my mother says she wishes she was dead. She has been destroyed. If it was not for my wife, my mother would not be able to look after her other children. The whole family has been destroyed by this as we have lost an enormous part of our lives. We are all saddened. My family has been suffering since the loss of my brother.

MR PHILLIPS: Sir, that completes the evidence for this morning.

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Well, shall we break until 1.15 pm. So, thank you very much. (12.12 pm) (The Lunch Break) (1.14 pm)

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Mr Phillips.

MR PHILLIPS: Sir, before the first –before the first of this afternoon’s recordings is played, I should repeat the following warning: what we are about to hear may be distressing to those in the room or those following on the livestream and if so, they should leave the room or look away, as the case may be.

The next recording and statement is made by Rasul, the father of Pshtiwan Rasul Farkha Hussein. Pshtiwan was born in 2003. You will hear two voices on the recording; first Rasul’s and then that of his son who has recorded the statement on his behalf.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR RASUL FARKHA HUSSEIN (in Sorani) (Audio, read by son, played to the Inquiry)

MR DAVIES: I am Rasul Farkha Hussein, the father of Pshtiwan Rasul Farkha. I live with my wife and four of my children. My wife and I have four daughters four sons in total including Pshtiwan.

My youngest daughter lives with us because she is ill. She was born with a heart defect and she needs surgery to correct this. However, this surgery is very expensive.

My daughter’s heart condition requires someone to be available all the time to look after her.

Pshtiwan went to school from the age of six to nine years old. He did not like school. From a very young age he was thinking about finding a good job and earning money. He wanted to help support our family and to take care of his sister.

When his teachers found out that Pshtiwan wanted to leave school to earn money, they did not force him to stay because they knew about his sister.

Pshtiwan left school at nine years old to find work.

He started working as an assistant in a vegetable shop. He had several jobs like this from the ages of nine to 15. He learnt how to buy and sell vegetables. Eventually when he was 15, he started a small vegetable selling business himself.

He helped to support our family with his income.

Pshtiwan was so caring in the way he wanted to help support us. He liked helping others too, which he did quietly and without wanting praise.

If a young family was struggling, he would bring them milk or fruit to help them. It brought him peace to help others.

It was this attitude that made him want to leave Kurdistan for the UK, to make a better life for us as a family and for his sister, in particular, to get the medical treatment she needs.

However, sometimes I wish we had all died from hunger rather than let Pshtiwan leave.

On 14 September 2021, Pshtiwan travelled alone by plane from Kurdistan. After he left, we spoke daily usually via Facebook Messenger. Sometimes we would talk in the morning, sometimes at night. We would speak on the phone, but also send voice notes and text messages.

He would not just talk to me, but also his mother, his sisters and his brother.

On 23 November 2021, Pshtiwan spoke to me once from the boat by video call. When I did not hear from Pshtiwan again, I spent the next five days trying to find out what had happened and whether he was safe.

After five days, I found out that the boat had sunk.

When we heard that the boat had sunk we were very distressed. My wife collapsed in shock and damaged her back. She still suffers with chronic pain from this fall. My wife can only think of Pshtiwan and whether he is safe in the UK. There is no happiness in our lives. We can only wait for Pshtiwan to come back.

Pshtiwan’s body was — has never been found and it is the only thing I can think about. I am certain he is alive. I believe that he will be found and brought back to me. I have to hope or else I will not survive.

He was in cold water surrounded by dead people for so long, it may be the case that he has lost his mind and does not know that he should call his parents. If someone finds him and he contacts us, our lives would be saved and filled with joy.

Lootka confirmed that my son was not among the dead bodies they recovered. Later the same day in the evening, the deceased names were published on the news and Pshtiwan was still not among them. I was thrilled and relieved. We still had hope.

Before that moment, we had heard all the people on the boat had died.

It’s hard being so far away from where the incident happened. We feel like we cannot do anything from here. I have one thing to say to the person hearing this: if you were in my shoes for 30 minutes, you would probably understand what feeling we have as a family. We do not know where our son is. It has been three years and we are still just waiting.

Me, my wife and our children we are all praying that we will reunite with Pshtiwan. I am hoping the Cranston Inquiry will find Pshtiwan because I know he is alive somewhere. Only when we hear his voice again will we find peace.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Rizghar Hussein, husband of Kazhal Ahmed Khidir Al-Jammoor, who was born in 1975, and father of Hadiya, Mubin, and Hasti Rizghar Hussain, who were aged 22, 16 and seven when they died.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR RIZGHAR HUSSEIN (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Rizghar Hussein Mohammed, father of three of the victims of the 2021 tragedy, Hadiya, Mubin and Hasti Hussain, and husband of Kazhal Ahmed Khidir Al-Jammoor, who was also a victim of the tragedy.

I lost my wife and children in this tragedy. My first wife, Kazhal, was 46; my youngest child, Hasti, was seven; my son, Mubin, was 16; and my oldest child, Hadiya, was 22 years old when they died in November 2021.

My wife was a housewife before she left to make the journey to Europe. My children had all been educated in Darbandikhan. Mubin and Hadiya spoke perfect English and wanted to follow their dreams in another country.

My daughter Hadiya dreamed of continuing her studies in the UK and becoming a doctor. All I ever wanted for my family was for them to be happy.

My family left Kurdistan in August 2021. I spoke to them on the phone almost every night of their journey. We usually called through video so that I could see their faces. I still have some of the photos of them on their journey and a few voice messages. I have kept these because they are the last memories I have of them.

The last conversation that I had was with my eldest child, Hadiya, at around 10.00 pm in Kurdistan on 23 November 2021; 8 pm GMT.

She called me from the boat to tell me that they had just started the journey. She asked me to pray for them. On 24 November 2021, I heard the news about a shipwreck on NRT news.

The news did not say anything about the identities of the victims, but that a boat had sank in the Channel carrying 30 people. I had a terrible feeling.

I had not heard anything from my family since 10.00 pm the night before. I started making phone calls to see if I could find out any information.

I felt sure that my family had been part of the shipwreck I had seen on the news and that they were among the victims. They used our DNA to properly identify the bodies that were recovered on 24 November 2021.

This is how we confirmed that Kazhal, Hasti, Hadiya and Mubin were among the victims.

It was very hard for me when my family left Kurdistan because I missed them so much every day. I stayed behind on my own, hoping that they would find happiness.

It’s not possible to describe the impact that the tragedy of the 23 and 24 November 2021 has had on my life. I miss my family every day. Wherever I look, I see them. I miss them to the point that I cannot really do anything else. I cannot make decisions or plans in my life. For 22 years I was looking after my children with my wife.

I would do anything for them. I would wake up in the middle of the night just to make sure that they had a blanket. I wanted to make sure they were safe in life. I miss my wife and children in all parts of my life. Every week I go to their graves to speak with them. I am a completely different person since this tragedy happened.

Sadness has taken over my life. I cannot see any happiness anymore and I am just learning to accept that I will probably feel like this until I die. After I lost my family, my world ended. My life has been destroyed. I have had to start again from zero, both financially and emotionally. I often think that I wish I had died the day I found out about the news about my family.

I wish I had died rather than having to go through this. However, for some reason God has kept me alive in order to be sad and so this is what I must do.

Otherwise, I really wish I were dead. Losing one person is hard enough, but I lost the four people in the world that I cared most about. Over the last three years, I have tried to build myself back up, but I cannot.

It has ruined me.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by the brother of Shakar Ali Pirot, who was born in 1991.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR SHAMAL ALI PIROT (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS ONABANJO: I am Shamal Ali Pirot, the brother of Shakar Ali Pirot. I live with my wife and our three year old. I have three brothers and two sisters. Shakar was my third brother and was born on 29 August 1991.

Shakar was 30 when he left Kurdistan. Before he left, he was living with my parents and two of our siblings. Shakar was very calm. He was a good listener and a good person. He had a very good relationship with his siblings and he always listened to our parents.

He never complained and was not demanding and did not create any problems for our parents.

Shakar spent most of his time at home with our family and would also spend time with other relatives such as our cousins. He was not extroverted person. He did not have a lot of friends and preferred staying at home.

He liked technology and was always busy on different apps on his phone. He was interested in video games and played PlayStation.

Shakar studied at school in our city and was a good student. After finishing school, Shakar went to the University of Sulaimani, where he studied geology. He graduated from university in 2014.

After graduating, Shakar spent four or five years trying to get the sort of jobs that he really wanted. He tried to find a job in his field, such as working as a geologist at an oil company, exploring for gas. However, in Iraq, these jobs are only really for people with influence and no matter how hard he tried, he was not successful.

I could see in Shakar’s face that after years struggling to find employment, he felt he was getting older, but had not achieved anything for himself.

As time went on this became worse and he appeared depressed. I think he felt that there was nothing for him in Iraq.

Shakar left Kurdistan on or around 15 September or 16 September 2021. I cannot remember the exact date. We were mostly talking through phone calls, via Facebook Messenger and WhatsApp during his journey. This gave our family an opportunity to find out what Shakar was doing and where he was.

He mostly spoke directly to me, but would sometimes speak to other members of the family. I would sometimes leave him voice notes to check that he was okay. We spoke once every two to three days.

The last time I spoke to Shakar was 21 November 2021. On the night of the 23 November 2021, Shakar was in communication with Sirwan’s father and sent him a voice note. It was 13 seconds long and in the recording Shakar says, “If you do not hear from us, then we have arrived in UK.”

On the morning of 24 November 2021, I saw a Facebook post that there had been an — attempted crossings overnight and one boat had sunk. News started to spread on social media that there were many victims. Despite hearing about a boat sinking, we were waiting for good news and hoping that Shakar had successfully crossed the Channel.

After around five days, I was contacted by an organisation called Lootka. They asked if Shakar was my brother. I confirmed he was and they said that he was one of the people who had died when the boat had sunk. When they informed me of this, I was shocked and devastated. But I was not quite sure if it was true as we had heard different stories, including that seven people survived and were in a hospital in Calais.

Because of this, we could not be 100% sure who was alive and who had died. So I did not tell my family that Shakar was definitely a victim.

Things stayed like this for around one month and we did not have any new information. Then each of the victims’ mothers were asked to provide DNA, as some bodies could not be identified.

After we sent a DNA sample for my mother to France, we waited for almost a week and then one night on TV they stated that all — they stated all the names of the victims. Shakar was included in the list.

This was before we had been formally told anything.

That was the moment when my family found out that Shakar was definitely a victim. The news of the tragedy felt very sudden at this moment and we were devastated. Even though we had heard what happened, that Shakar was a victim, we did not want to believe it.

From 25 December 2021 we were awaiting the return of Shakar’s body, but there were various technical difficulties which caused a delay in us receiving his body. After waiting for seven days, we finally received Shakar’s body. We went to Erbil to collect his body at the airport with the families of the other victims. We all checked the bodies carefully in order to identify each victim.

It was a really difficult experience. We collected the bodies at 3.00 am Iraqi time and then dedicated ambulances took the bodies to their respective home towns. We arrived home in the early hours of the morning and many people came to our street to show sympathy.

We had a funeral for two days and many people attended both the cemetery and our family home.

This tragedy has impacted my family significantly. We miss Shakar. He was loved so much by our family and relatives. At dinner times my mum will always ask, “Where is Shakar?” We then struggle to finish our food. My father has had a lot of health issues since my brother died. My mother has struggled mentally and has developed health conditions such as Alzheimer’s.

Even though time has passed, you can see the impact which the tragedy has had. We are sad because if Shakar saw a future here in Kurdistan, he would not have left.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by the brother of Serkawt Pirot Mohammed, affectionately known as Harem, who was born in 1992.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR SARHAD PIROT MOHAMMED (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MR DAVIES: I am Sarhad Pirot Mohammed, the brother of Serkawt Pirot Mohammed. Harem is the name we all called him from when he was young. My mother chose it as a pet name.

I live with my parents and my younger sisters. I have two other sisters and an older brother. Harem was the third oldest child. Before leaving Kurdistan, Harem lived in our family house.

Harem had very good relationships with my parents and his siblings, he was like a friend to us all.

Harem was very kind and helped my parents a lot. If something needed mending around the house, he would always offer to assist and never expected anything in return.

He had many interests and was intelligent. He was also very sporty and played a lot of football with his friends. Harem looked after his family and friends. He always supported his family, whether emotionally, financially or with any other favour.

When my sisters or I were sad or down, he was a shoulder to cry on.

Harem discussed his plan to leave the country with our family around one year before he left. We were all very worried when he told us, especially about his plan to cross the Aegean Sea as we knew how long and dangerous this journey was likely to be.

Harem left Kurdistan on 17 September 2021. I last spoke to my brother around 10.30 pm GMT on the night he and the others died. I received a call from him and he said that he was getting onto a boat to go to the UK, and asked me to pray for them to arrive safely. I did not speak with Harem after the boat got into trouble.

At around 8 pm the next day, I saw the news on social media that a boat had capsized in the Channel and that most of those on board were Kurds. We tried calling my brother, but the phone did not ring.

Two or three days later, we were told that it was our loved ones in the water. My family and I were devastated. It came as a shock to us even though we had not heard from Harem for several days. We had initially thought that Harem was successfully made for the journey to the UK, which made the news all the more painful and shocking.

My brother’s body was recovered from the sea. We had to send a DNA sample to Lootka and they sent it to France in order to identify him as one of the dead.

We received confirmation, through this organisation, that Harem was among the dead around four to six weeks after the incident. They confirmed this by sending a message to a WhatsApp group which the families of the victims were in.

Harem’s body was repatriated to Kurdistan to be buried. After the bodies were returned, we had a funeral for Harem. Each body was returned to the victim’s place of birth. Harem was buried beside his friend Shakar. Harem’s friends and family attended the funeral and people visited us in the days afterwards to express their sorrow.

The news has completely devastated our family. Harem was a huge part of all of our lives.

A number of the victims were from Ranya, so our whole community was completely shocked. My brother’s death is a loss that we will never forget. It is the saddest thing that has ever happened to me. It is always on my mind.

I still find it hard to believe that he lost his life in such tragic circumstances. My siblings and I are all devastated, but we try to remain calm and composed to protect my parents. My parents are still grieving and are suffering from illness because of the sorrow. My mother has high blood pressure and diabetes, which has worsened because of the emotional toll of losing Harem. My father is also struggling with depression following the incident. He isolates himself more and does not leave the house often.

The last three years have affected our family enormously. It breaks our hearts that Harem was not able to achieve his dream and be happy. The news of losing him was very difficult and we are still suffering from the sorrow.

We miss him all the time. The cemetery where Harem is buried is about an hour away from our house and our mother still visits his grave every single evening.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Zana, the brother of Twana Mamand Mohammed who was born in 2003. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR ZANA MAMAND MOHAMMED (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MR BROWN: I am Zana Mamand Mohammed, brother of Twana Mamand Mohammed. I live in a house that is around 500 metres away from my parents’ home. My brother Twana was living in my parents’ home before he left Kurdistan. I am the oldest sibling in our family and Twana was the second youngest.

Twana was born on 30 March 2003. He was 18 years and seven months old on 23 November 2021.

He was a slim and tall young man. He was very energetic and spent most of his time exercising. He loved playing football, going to the gym, and practising Taekwondo. He was a black belt in Taekwondo and the best performer in Hajiawa.

Twana was still going to school in Hajiawa before he left Kurdistan on 10 August 2021. He had just completed 10th Grade and he would have been starting 11th Grade in September 2021. Twana was very intelligent. He wanted to become a football player or Taekwondo practitioner.

Twana was 14 years younger than me, but we were still extremely close as brothers and friends. As I live very near my parents’ house, I would go over regularly to see him. I was excited for what Twana was going to do with his life because he was such a motivated and energetic young person. I felt protective over him as his older brother and I wanted him to have the best life possible. Twana would often come to me when he was a young teenager asking me to help him speak to our father about taking trips around the country to play football.

Our father wanted Twana to focus on his studies, but Twana was devoted to sport.

I would go and speak with my father to explain that Twana was dedicated to improving his skills and this helped my father to understand. I believe that Twana and I supported each other a lot. He always listened to me and he was a very respectful brother. I felt like we communicated openly and we didn’t have any barriers between us.

It was an incredible relationship and one which meant so much to me.

I was very anxious when Twana explained to me that he had made his decision to leave Kurdistan. I told him that he could only go on one condition: he had to stay in contact with me every step of the journey, so that I knew he was safe and so I could keep my parents informed.

I understood that he was determined to leave, but I have always been very protective of him. At the same time, I believed that the more I knew about each step of his journey, the safer he would be. I now know that I did not really have any control over the situation, but it felt like the only way I could help and keep looking after him.

Twana’s friend called me at 02:05 Kurdistan time on 24 November 2021 and we spoke briefly on the phone.

I also spoke with Twana during this call. Twana told me there were no problems, that I should go to sleep because it was late in Kurdistan.

At 02:40 GMT, Twana’s friend sent my sister a message saying they were in British waters and that they should not worry. My sister told me that she and my brother-in-law tried calling back 10 minutes later, but they couldn’t get through and they didn’t hear from Twana again.

On 24 November 2021, I was initially told that the boat had crossed safely. In the late afternoon when I was in my parents’ home, I received another call and I was told there had been a GPS tracker on the boat and that they had traced it. The GPS tracker showed that the boat was in the UK. My mother was listening to me on the phone and she asked me to tell her what was happening.

I explained that it sounded as though Twana had crossed safely. She said we should celebrate and so we sat down together for some food.

I left my parents’ home that evening — sorry, that afternoon feeling pleased, but my worries had not gone away because I knew that their boat had been in trouble that night. I started to receive many text messages and phone calls from friends. People were seeing reports of a boat sinking in the Channel on the news.

I drove back to my parents’ home and we watched the news together at around 19:00 Kurdistan time. The days following 24 November 2021 were extremely difficult because we didn’t have any certainty about what had happened to Twana or anyone else on the boat.

I made a WhatsApp group for all family members who were missing someone and who were worried that their loved ones had been in the incident.

On 14 December 2021, one of the doctors from the French hospital contacted my sister to tell her that Twana’s body was not there. Very soon after my sister received this information, the organisation Lootka released a list of names identifying the bodies of Kurdish victims from 23 November 2021, which included Twana’s name because he was listed as a missing person, meaning his body had not been found.

I was already in contact with two organisations in Calais and Dunkirk called Utopia 56 and Care4Calais. They had been very helpful in terms of offering their support after we had heard about the incident and so I asked them if they could assist with finding my brother as his body was missing.

But I don’t think they were able to work on this.

Someone from the Red Cross in Kurdistan visited us about assisting with finding Twana’s body, but this also did not come to anything.

Neither the British nor the French authorities ever contacted me about finding Twana’s body and I do not think they ever carried out a further search to look for my brother.

Losing Twana has been indescribably painful for my whole family. We all miss him every day and we continue to struggle with a slight hope that he might still be alive somewhere because his body has not been found. My mother is holding on intensely to this hope. She believes that he must be alive somewhere out there. Every day she thinks that she might suddenly receive a message from him or hear something from a distant friend that would confirm Twana is alive.

It’s been three years since the incident and I carry around this anxiety with me every day. I do not rationally have hope that he’s still alive somewhere, but it plays on my mind and it wears me down. Because there is a tiny chance that he’s alive somewhere, this stops me from truly having closure or being able to grieve properly for my brother. I do not carry any hope anymore, but I feel that I need to see his body back in Kurdistan in order to start the process of recovery.

I desperately wish there were a way of finding Twana’s body. This would at least bring some peace to my mother, my father, my siblings and myself after this tragedy.

MR PHILLIPS: Sir, would that be a convenient moment?

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Yes, shall we have 15 minutes?

MR PHILLIPS: Yes. (2.21 pm) (A short break) (2.36 pm)

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Mr Phillips.

MR PHILLIPS: Sir, the next recording and statement is made by the brother of Sirwan Alipour, who was born in 1998. The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR SAMAN ALIPOUR (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS LE FEVRE: I am Saman Alipour, the brother of Sirwan Alipour. I am providing this statement on my family’s behalf because of my parents’ mental health. My parents would still be unable to cope emotionally with providing a statement and have agreed that I should provide a statement instead.

I grew up in Sardasht, Iran and lived with my brother and parents. Sirwan was my younger brother. He was younger by one year and nine months. Because of the small age gap, we played together a lot as children and whilst growing up.

We got along very well and our relationship was always close. He was taller than me, so everyone always thought that he was the older brother.

Sirwan loved football as a child. When we group up and I decided that I wanted to study, he continued wanting to play football. Sirwan studied until he was 17 years old and then left education.

Sirwan always achieved good grades and was a strong student. I think he was bright enough to have continued in education if that was what he wanted, but he decided to focus on getting a job instead.

Sirwan was living with my parents until he left Iran.

He was a very good-looking man. As a person, Sirwan was very easygoing. Through his job as a mechanic, he made connections with many people in our town. Everyone in the town knew him. He was very funny, always making jokes and he had a lot of friends. He often played football with friends after work.

Sirwan had been thinking about going to the UK for some time. My father managed to stop him for a few years, but in the end he decided to go. Sirwan left Iran on 11 September 2021, when he was 22 years old.

Sirwan and I had a group chat on WhatsApp with a close family friend so we could stay in touch while he was on his journey. My father was in touch with another member of Sirwan’s group, a man called Hasan. Hasan was older than the others, so my father asked him to look after Sirwan and treat him like a younger brother.

On 23 November 2021, I was at university as I had an exam the next day. This meant I was unable to stay online with Sirwan throughout his journey. The family friend who was in the group chat with me and Sirwan agreed to stay online. My father was also in contact with him separately via WhatsApp.

On 24 November 2021, we tried to contact Sirwan’s WhatsApp, but the phone was offline.

I was sending messages in our group chat throughout the day, but we received no response from Sirwan. My father said he had not heard from Sirwan either. Initially, I still thought we would hear from my brother. Then at 18:32 GMT on 24 November 2021, I saw the news that a boat had sunk in the Channel. That night I could not sleep and I received a call from my father.

He asked if I had any information, as a friend of his had called him and said there had been an incident in the Channel. He was worried too, and wanted to check if I had any updates.

On 26 November 2021, we had still not received any news about Sirwan. I was very worried. I was in university in Ahvaz and I was alone and away from my family. I decided to go back to Sardasht and visit my parents and took the coach. Around 18:30 GMT, while I was still on the coach, I learnt through Instagram that there were only two survivors. One was being interviewed on Rudaw TV, a Kurdish news channel. He was talking about the time he started his journey and when the incident happened.

From this, I felt certain that my brother had been on the same boat and was among the victims.

I can only describe this as the worst time in my life. Some time later, my mother and father provided DNA samples, which were sent to France to formally identify the body. Sirwan’s body was then returned to Iran. The funeral took place 27 days after the incident and on 20 December 2021, Sirwan was buried at Sardasht graveyard.

Losing Sirwan was very — was extremely unexpected and this has all been a big shock for my family.

I believed he would come back to Iran again one day. On the boat to Italy, he was travelling on the water for six days and we were very worried. But then they arrived safely and we thought they had gone through the most difficult part of the journey.

This is partly why what happened in the Channel is so hard to deal with.

For me and my family, just like all the families affected, losing a loved one is extremely difficult. It does not matter how you lose them, it is always very hard. It is impossible to explain how this incident has affected my family, but it has definitely impacted us all, mentally and emotionally.

For my parents, I think it was even more difficult as I was not with them at the time. I was at university living 18 hours away. They needed someone, but I could not always be near them to offer my support. After the incident I felt guilty and somehow I blame myself for not stopping him from leaving Iran.

It has been three years now and I still feel the same. I still feel guilty.

Finally, I want to say that when you lose a loved one in a family, nothing can bring them back and nothing can replace them. Nothing we can do will bring my brother back. But what I can do now is ask people to look at migrants seeking a better life as humans. They risk their lives to move and it is not just because they are happy to do it or because they just want to; they do it because they have to.

All we can ask is that you help those migrants instead of making things difficult for them. We ask you help them out so that a tragedy like this never happens again.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by Bayan, the mother of Mhabad Ali Ahmed, who was born in 1989. You will hear two voices on the recording, first, Bayan’s and then that of her son who has recorded the statement on her behalf.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MS BAYAN HEMEDEMIN SALEH AHMED (in Sorani) (Audio, read by son, played to the Inquiry)

MS ONABANJO: I am Bayan Hemedemin Saleh Ahmed, the mother of Mhabad Ali Ahmed.

My daughter, Mhabad Ahmed Ali, born on 21 November 1989, was the second youngest of the eight children I shared with my late husband.

Before she left Erbil in 2021, she lived with me in my home in Erbil, along with her two small children who, as of November 2024, are five and eight years old.

Ever since she was a little girl, Mhabad made an impression on everyone she met. She was warm and open-hearted and cared deeply about everyone around her. As an adult, Mhabad was a wonderful person; kind, patient, loving and extremely beautiful.

People who met her would always comment on her calm, serene presence. As the youngest daughter, Mhabad was the baby of our family. She was adored by her older siblings who would take care of her and protect her. She was very close to her younger brother and growing up, the two of them were inseparable. I have sought long and hard to find the right words to describe Mhabad, but it is impossible to articulate who she was and the impact she had on those around her.

She was the heart of our family and we have never been the same since we lost her. Mhabad was married to her husband in 2014. When he asked her for her hand in marriage, Mhabad was overjoyed. I was happy for her as she told me she loved him and that he loved her. However, part of me was very sad because I thought that once they were married, Mhabad might leave to be united with her husband in the UK and I could not bear the thought of my precious daughter being so far from me.

Despite my fears, Mhabad lived with me for almost seven years after her marriage, raising their children with my help in Erbil.

In the seven years during which Mhabad lived with me following her marriage to her husband, we became closer than ever. Until the day she left, we spent every day together at home, cooking for the family, cleaning the house and spending time with her children.

Mhabad was a wonderful mother and was attentive to her children’s every need. Her children adored her and could not bear to spend a moment away from her. Mhabad was a caring daughter and was keen to take as much pressure off me as possible.

She would always say to me, “Mum, just sit down, let me take care of it”.

We would sit together in the kitchen for hours talking about everything imaginable. We were inseparable in those years and did everything together.

Mhabad was my best friend and my closest companion. Mhabad left Erbil in either late October or early November in 2021. As she was leaving, I was busy with her daughter and could not say goodbye to her properly. We spoke almost every day.

What I recall is that Mhabad’s focus, in each of those conversations, was her children. My last conversation with Mhabad was over WhatsApp video call at about 2 pm Kurdistan time on 23 November 2021.

During the night of 23 to 24 November 2021, Mhabad sent me a photograph of herself on the boat. I did not see this photograph until later on in the day on 24 November. This was the first time I became aware that Mhabad had left France for the UK.

I now understand that by the time I saw the photograph, Mhabad was likely already dead.

I understand that Mhabad’s husband and brothers discovered from the news that a boat had sunk in the Channel and that Mhabad was likely to have been on that boat. I know now that they feared the worst, but did not wish to worry me until they were certain one way or the other. On Friday 26 November 2021, I was told by my son that the boat Mhabad had been travelling in had sunk in the Channel.

I was devastated, but I held on to hope that Mhabad had survived. I don’t remember much about the weeks that followed. I recall going with my son to a hospital here in Erbil to give a DNA sample to an organisation called Lootka. I understand that that sample was sent to France, where it was compared against DNA taken from the bodies retrieved by the French Government.

A few weeks later — a few weeks after I gave the DNA sample, I received a letter in the post which told me that Mhabad was among the victims of the incident. Mhabad’s body was brought back to Erbil shortly after I received the letter. We brought her back to our home so she could be buried here in Erbil.

After Mhabad’s burial, we had a three-day memorial for her. The number of people who came from all around Erbil and even from other cities and towns in Kurdistan to express their grief and their sympathies are testament to Mhabad’s warmth and kindness and the profound impact she had on those around her.

All those who came to her memorial spoke about her character and shared their shock at her death. Her death was something everyone seems to struggle to understand. She was such a special person and her death was so violent and sudden.

The impact of losing Mhabad has had on our family is too immense to put into words. Mhabad’s children lived with me for approximately nine months after Mhabad’s death until about midway through 2022.

At the time of her death, Mhabad’s daughter was old enough that she could understand that her mother had left us and that she would not come back. I think her mother’s death has had a profound impact on her mental health. I remember in the aftermath of Mhabad’s death her daughter was always talking about her mother and would tell people, even those she just met, that her mother had left and would never come back.

Her son was just a toddler when Mhabad died and he was not old enough to understand what happened. It breaks my heart to think of his confusion and the questions he will inevitably have as he grows older. It causes me immeasurable pain to think of Mhabad’s two children living in Kurdistan with no mother or father to look after them.

Mhabad’s death altered their lives irrevocably and robbed them of a mother who loved them more than anything else. Mhabad’s siblings have been shattered by her loss. She was the youngest girl in our family and was loved and cherished by us all. All her siblings, like the rest of our family, remain in shock and find it very hard to accept that someone as wonderful as Mhabad lost her life in such a terrible way.

I cannot express the pain which Mhabad’s loss has caused me. I am not a stranger to loss. My husband was murdered in 2015 and my other daughter died in a fire in 2012 at the age of 23. However, Mhabad’s death has absolutely devastated me. In the weeks that followed, I would listen to old voice notes Mhabad September over and over again just so I could hear her voice. I would cry all the time. Things got so bad that my son took my phone and deleted all my conversations with Mhabad because he felt that what I was doing was not good for my well-being.

Not a day goes by where I do not think of Mhabad’s beautiful face, of her sweet voice, of her kindness and generosity.

I feel as if part of myself has been ripped out, and as if the wound will never heal. More than anything else, it breaks my heart that her children will grow up without their mother and that they have lost the opportunity to experience her love and her care.

I think constantly of the last time I saw Mhabad in person and the request she made for me to look after her children until she could take care of them again. My mind is consumed with thoughts of what her final moments must have been like and how afraid she must have been.

It breaks my heart to think of her alone and frightened waiting in ice-cold water for help which would never come.

I am consumed by the thought that my precious daughter waited for help for so long that her organs stopped working because of the cold. I think about how her life could have been saved and how her children could have grown up with their mother.

I am grateful to the Cranston Inquiry for investigating the events of that night and specifically why no rescue boat was sent to help Mhabad and the other passengers on the boat. It is my hope that the Inquiry finds some answers which can ensure that no other parent has to lose their child in the way that I lost my precious daughter.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by the father of Bilind Shakir Baker, who was born in 2001.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR SHAKIR BAKER BRINDAR ZEWKI (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS WOODS: I am Shakir Baker Brindar Zewki, the father of Bilind Shakir Baker.

My first wife sadly passed away in 2005. We had eight children together; six sons and two daughters, including Bilind.

In 2006, I remarried. We have five children together; one son, and four daughters, who are all living at home with us.

My son, Bilind, was born on 1 January 2001. He was a very quiet and kind child. He was always well behaved and never caused any problems for me or anyone else. Bilind had a strong relationship with his siblings and was always very good with them. He was especially loving and caring towards his siblings in the years after his mother passed away.

Despite being young, he was always there for them. This shows the kind of person Bilind was. He was so loving and because of this, everyone else loved him.

Bilind did not like school very much and so he only went to elementary school. He left education around Grade 6 when he was 11 years old. After this, he spent most of his time socialising with friends and relatives. Bilind loved to swim. There is a river that goes through Zakho and a famous bridge that crosses it. Bilind would go there every day to swim with his friends during summer and spent as much time in the water as possible.

He would sometimes swim at indoor pools, but always preferred to swim outside.

Bilind never swam competitively, but he was a strong swimmer. In fact, when I heard that there were two survivors of the shipwreck in November 2021, I was initially telling myself that Bilind would be one of them, as he could swim so well. Sadly, this was not his fate.

When Bilind’s mother died, I do not think he fully understood what was happening because he was so young. As he grew up, it was difficult for him to remember his mother properly, but losing a parent was still very hard for him. After remarrying, my second wife became a mother to my eight children, including Bilind, and she loved them very much.

Life is hard here in Kurdistan. There is often conflict going on and as Kurds, we are not truly free. After the death of my first wife, I felt like I had to be Bilind’s mother as well as his father. This was incredibly hard and I think it made his decision to leave even more difficult to deal with.

I begged Bilind not to go and I did everything I could to try and make him stay. However, he insisted and insisted, and on 24 October 2021, Bilind left Kurdistan.

While Bilind was on his journey, we would speak regularly on phone calls via WhatsApp. On 23 November 2021, I spoke to Bilind several times. At around 2100 hours GMT on 23 November 2021, I had my final phone call with my son.

I did not speak to Bilind again after this. Then, at around 2000 hours GMT on 24 November 2021, I heard, on Rudaw TV, a Kurdish channel, that a boat had sunk whilst trying to reach the UK.

I checked other TV channels which confirmed what had happened. At this point, I did not know whether Bilind was alive or not, but I was telling myself that he must have made it.

This was the most difficult time for me and my relatives. I can honestly say it was the hardest period of my life.

It felt like everything in our lives stopped. Time froze, and we were just waiting to find out what happened to our loved one.

Around one month after the incident, I travelled to Sulaymaniyah, Iraq, where the DNA samples were being taken. Some time after sending the DNA samples we finally learned that Bilind was one of the victims, when we saw it confirmed on a Rudaw TV broadcast.

Then we had to wait for his body to be returned.

I remember going to Erbil Airport several days in a row to receive his body, but each day we would find out that the flight was delayed. This made the experience even harder and prolonged the pain of waiting to see Bilind’s body.

It is hard to describe the impact of this tragedy on our family. It has affected us a lot emotionally and mentally. Imagine losing someone, a loved one who has passed away. You would typically be able to start mourning as soon as it happens and begin making arrangements for a funeral. Although it is still extremely difficult, I think in this situation, you can start to accept what has happened.

After the tragedy in 2021, we had an awful period of uncertainty where we did not know whether Bilind was alive or not. We did not know what to do and we could not stop thinking about it day and night.

Then after finally learning that Bilind was a victim, we had to wait again to get his body back. The uncertainty and delays at every stage made the experience even more painful.

If I am honest, there were times when I wished I was dead. I would have preferred to have died than go through what we went through.

After we received Bilind’s body, it was initially difficult to find somewhere for mourners to come and express their condolences because of Covid. In the end, we managed to find a warehouse and we set up between 200 and 300 chairs. Over two days, there were so many people that came. And then for many days afterwards, we were still receiving visitors at our home. This period was incredibly hard.

I remember that on the morning we buried Bilind, it was so cold that the ground was almost frozen. I vividly remember how cold it was.

We still miss Bilind every single minute of our lives. Every night, every day, we are always thinking about him and missing him. Every member of our family still has a picture of Bilind as the background on their phones so that we can see him every day.

My son has also named a son after Bilind. Whenever I hear a story on TV about a boat sinking and people drowning, it takes me back to what happened. Every few days, I will go on a map and look at the Channel where Bilind died and the area that he was staying in before he made that last journey. As I do this, I live through it all again.

I think about how I wish that I could travel there, to where he was before he died. Some people say that when someone passes away their spirit remains where they passed. I know it would be extremely difficult to go to a place where your son spent their final moments, but I would like to go.

I hope that the tragedy of November 2021 is the last tragedy like this. I hope no other people become victims in the way that my son did.

MR PHILLIPS: The next recording and statement is made by the father of Maryam Noori Mohammedameen, who was born in 1997.

The original language you will hear is Sorani.

Statement of MR NOORI MOHAMMEDAMEEN HASSAN (in Sorani) (Audio played to the Inquiry)

MS ONABANJO: I am Noori Mohammedameen Hassan, the father of Maryam Noori Mohammedameen. I live with my wife and we have six children together; five daughters and one son, including Maryam.

Maryam was born on 21 March 1997. She was 24 years old when she left Kurdistan.

Maryam was incredibly kind and used to take care of everyone. She was a very good girl and everyone from our family would agree with this. She was remarkably caring towards her mother and looked after her in any way that she could.

Maryam was — also had a great relationship with her siblings and was very much loved by the whole family.

She was such a lovable person. Maryam was smart and completed her high school education. After finishing school, Maryam spent much of her time with her mother. She would help around the house in any way that she could. Maryam also loved spending time with her cousins; they would visit each other all the time and enjoyed hanging out together.

In 2021, Maryam met and then got engaged to her fiancé. After their engagement, Maryam planned to travel to the UK so she could live with her fiancé. On 1 November 2021, Maryam flew from Erbil. We were in regular contact with Maryam throughout her journey from Kurdistan to France. Our family was in contact with Maryam every day and night.

She spoke to me, as well as her mother, sisters and brothers. However, around one and a half days before taking her final journey, Maryam completely stopped communicating with us. The last time I spoke to her was on 22 November 2021. When I then tried to call Maryam later, on 22 November and then 23 November 2021, her phone was switched off and we were unable to speak with her.

As we had not heard from Maryam since 22 November 2021, we had no idea that she had attempted to cross the Channel. Then on 24 November 2021, we saw in the news that a boat had sunk while attempting to reach the UK.

In the days after this tragedy, Maryam was then named as a victim on the news. This was the darkest moment of my life and the saddest day of all our lives. It is difficult to describe how hard it was. Firstly, hearing the news, but then also not being there, where it had happened.

At that point, I thought we would never see her body again which made the experience even more painful.

Nothing is worse than losing a loved one, especially one’s child. It is a huge loss. I do not know what I can really say about this or how I can explain it. The tragedy in 2021 has had an enormous impact on our family.

Since losing Maryam, my wife has suffered very badly with mental health issues and she has also started suffering from epilepsy. We cannot leave her alone and either I or my son must be around to look after her either.

As soon as my wife heard the news about Maryam being named as a victim, she passed out because of the shock and we had to take her to hospital.

It is now three years later and my wife still has a photograph of Maryam on her phone which she looks at constantly; this continually makes her cry.

For me, whenever I talk about Maryam, it all comes back to me. In these moments, it feels like I am burning inside, but then I think: what can I do? We are all so devastated by what happened, but what can we do?

We just hope the Inquiry can do something positive.

The victims of the tragedy are gone, but there are people, friends and family, who have suffered mentally and emotionally since then.

I hope that the Inquiry can help those people in some way.

MR PHILLIPS: Sir, that concludes the evidence for today.

SIR ROSS CRANSTON: Well, thank you very much. It has been a very moving day for all of us. I want to thank you everyone for their respectful attention. We meet tomorrow at 10 o’clock. Thank you. (3.40 pm) (The Inquiry adjourned until 10.00, on Thursday, 27 March 2025)

I N D E X

Introduction to family ………………………….1

impact evidence by MR PHILLIPS KC Statement of …………………………………..2

MR ABDULLAHI MOHAMUD HASSAN (in Somalian) Statement of …………………………………..4

MR ALI AREEF in Somalian Statement of …………………………………..8

MR YASSIN HASSAN HAMAD (in Sorani) Statement by ………………………………….11

MR AHMED MOHAMMED AHMED (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….13

MR MUSTAFA MINA NABI (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….17

MR HUSSEIN MOHAMMEDIE (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….21

MR ISMAEL HAMAD KHUDHUR (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….28

MR QADAR AWLA (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….32

MR MOHAMMED ALI ISMAIL ALI (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….36

MR KARIM HAMAD ABDULRAHMAN (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….39

MR RASUL FARKHA HUSSEIN (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….42

MR RIZGHAR HUSSEIN (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….46

MR SHAMAL ALI PIROT (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….50

MR SARHAD PIROT MOHAMMED (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….54

MR ZANA MAMAND MOHAMMED (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….60

MR SAMAN ALIPOUR (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….65

MS BAYAN HEMEDEMIN SALEH AHMED (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….71

MR SHAKIR BAKER BRINDAR ZEWKI (in Sorani) Statement of ………………………………….77

MR NOORI MOHAMMEDAMEEN HASSAN (in Sorani)