Seizing has turned into a developing issue in Libya, where three governments and a few local army are competing for power. “My dad was seized yesterday.”
Not exactly the instant message you hope to get from a dear companion on a Friday morning. I called to affirm that it was not a merciless auto-adjustment and surged over to her place. She looked surprisingly formed yet depleted. Here, in the solace and security of neighbouring Tunisia, the weaknesses inundating Libya appear like a universe away.
She gets another call, and another, around twelve in under 60 minutes.
She stands, glaring, and grasping the telephone, attempting to understand what was being conveyed to her. She paces, kicks the kitchen seat, and in the end takes a seat serenely once more.
Over the previous month, I have watched Lina obsess about an examination that frequently involves conversing with individuals she questions. The family has a pool of contacts she is calling, yet they are outsiders.
On occasion, she seemed as though she was going around in circles and gradually being sucked into a vortex of deception.
“You don’t have foundations that you can swing to that are there to secure and serve the natives. So the truth then turns into that the natives need to take matters into their own hands,” she lets me know.
“Yet, in the meantime, there’s a solid interpersonal organisation that sort of replaces that, and that is the means by which Libyans have been managing everything,” she says.