By Donnie Lama

Donnie Lama continues the story of his Saudi ordeal where he was imprisoned and tortured because in private he led a liturgical service for his fellow Christians. Part three in this issue tells of his final, almost miraculous, release. Read on...

The Long Wait to Freedom

It was already November 16, 1996, more than a year after my imprisonment. The court summoned me again. Their first question to me was: “Have you now become a Muslim?” With my new found courage, I answered, “I am not a Muslim. I will never be a Muslim.” It angered the judge. “You are bad!” he said. I was rejoicing to be counted for Jesus. In my heart I was saying that whatever happens, I will stand up for my Christian faith. I had been imprisoned for being a Christian. My imprisonment will not be in vain. The judge pressed on, “Where is your license for being a priest?” as I had declared over and over again, I replied, “I am not a priest.” Then the judge said, “Okay, we will still study your case.” Meanwhile my friend Dermot O’ Niel, who works with my previous employer and who was also a brother in the Lord, had already learned of my plight at his time, started appealing my case through the American Embassy with support from the Canadian Embassy with the Ministry of Interiors. But still, it was not for another month that some progress came for my case.

The Sentence

December 16, 1996, I appeared in court again. The judge asked me, “Are you a Christian?” I replied, “Yes.” The court sentenced me to serve prison for one and a half years with 70 lashes. Upon hearing the sentence, I did not know whether to cry in agony or to cry in joy. I was sad that I had to serve this relatively long and heavy sentence compared to the sentence of three to six months received by other ‘religious’ who were convicted of the same crime. But I was also happy that at last the court had set a limit to my imprisonment. I only had to serve for four more months.  “Do you wish to appeal?” the judge asked. “No.” I said firmly.

And so I waited. I was hoping that I would be included among those who would receive pardon from the King, which he normally gives during the Ramadan, which is a 40-day fast being observed by the entire Kingdom. The Ramadan came and went the following month. There was no pardon for me. I accepted that I had to complete my term.

Letters that Sustained Me

It was at this time that I received letters from all over the world. Unknown to me, my case came to be known by the Open Doors Netherlands through another Dutch organization, which published my name as among those languishing in jail without just cause. Open Doors Netherlands put me in the roster of Christian prisoners for correspondence by their supporters for encouragement. Some 200 letters came to me in prison. I would receive them opened and screened by the Saudi jail officer. I did not mind receiving them opened. The words of encouragement would still reach me whole. In fact, I was amazed that they even came through at all despite the screening. There were cards and letters with Christian messages, Christian images, Bible verses. It was like fresh rain in the desert land of Saudi and an oasis in the drier, parched land inside prison walls .the verses, which were written on cards, I used for my exhortations. I myself had carefully read each card and letter. I even took note of the designs and found meaning in every single illustration. I filled up my lonely nights answering some of them. I sent them either through Filipino prisoners who were going home or smuggled them out through my visitors.

70 Lashes

Exactly one month before my supposed release, however, the court ordered me to return to the police station where I was first arrested to secure clearance and claim the things that were confiscated from me. I also needed to secure my plane ticket from my employer before I could return to Malaz Jail for final release. It also meant receiving the second part of my sentence, which was the seventy lashes. It was February 2, 1997, wearing a T-shirt and jogging pants, I came toward the solid, circular wall and braced myself for the seventy lashes...