THE POWER OF GENEROSITY AS A LIFELINE FOR A BRAVE FAMILY IN NEED

Two years ago Yassin Al Noor, a Sudanese citizen who worked in Nigeria for a renowned American humanitarian organization (MercyCorps) was kidnapped, held captive, beaten, and threatened with his life for over three weeks, his whereabouts unknown and the reasons for the abduction unclear. His eventual release, recounted below, was as perilous as his captivity.

Mere weeks after his release he learned he no longer had a job (due to the curtailment of U.S. foreign assistance). The employer for which he loyally risked his life for 10+ years refused any transitional support and he, his wife and three children were immediately required to leave Nigeria, while being unable to return to their home in Sudan because of its destruction during the brutal civil war.

This GoFundMe campaign was begun to help Yassin and his family navigate the emotional aftermath of his abduction amidst the complete upheaval of their lives and loss of financial livelihood. It is only through the GENEROSITY of Yassin's friends, former colleagues, and the MANY who, without even knowing Yassin, have responded to his family's plight and this campaign, that this family is surviving and the three children have been able to continue their education. It has truly been a lifeline, and the outpourng of generosity that has enabled this is only surpassed by the depth of gratitude felt by Yassin and his family.

But their situation remains precarious, with their life savings dwindling (even with all of the external support) and their temporary legal status in Kuwait under constant threat. Those closest to Yassin are focused on helping him try to secure work with another international organization, which is ultimately the only solution for the family since they cannot return to Sudan.

Your generosity, of ANY amount, can help sustain the lifeline for this family. It is beyond shameful that a multi-million dollar American "charitable organization" would turn its back on a longtime employee, knowingly throwing him and his family into a dire situation without any offer of assistance. Fortunately, it is individuals like all of us who have the power and will to exercise generosity and compassion.

Our goal remains to raise $22,000 to serve as a lifeline for Yassin and his family until Yassin is able to find work, and to ensure that his three children are able to remain in school.

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Please consider a donation as large as feels reasonable for you! All funds raised will be first be directed to Yassin's friend and former Mercy Corps colleague, David Holdridge, who currently resides in Massachusetts. David is organizing support for Yassin, has set up a direct link with Yassin's bank in Kuwait, and is in touch with him regularly. Updates on Yassin's situation will be provided via this GoFundMe page.

In the words of Yassin himself, “I don’t know what to say, but I am truly overwhelmed and humbled by all of the kindness and the support my family and I are receiving. I honestly don't know where we would be without it. May God always bless you.”

YASIN'S ACCOUNT OF HIS KIDNAPPING:

One Year After the Darkness

On this day, December 5th, 2024, exactly one year ago, my 3 colleagues and I walked out of captivity after enduring suffering I could never have imagined. We were held deep inside a forest, surrounded by swarms of mosquitoes, reptiles, insects, and an endless darkness that swallowed all sense of time.

For days, I lost all sense of time, only a faint light hinted at daytime, and complete darkness signalled the night. No conversations were allowed, only whispers. We lived in constant fear of intoxicated guards armed with cocked rifles and machetes, their eyes heavy with violence. Hunger, thirst, and the constant threat of beatings became part of my everyday reality. I endured slaps, kicks, and torture with sticks until terror felt woven into my very body.

The makeshift shelter where we were kept was built from weak wooden posts and torn plastic sheets. It was so small that there was barely room to lie down. We spent most of our time squatting, afraid to move without permission. even stepping outside meant stumbling over the bodies of my fellow captives. The ground was uneven and covered with roots, turning every attempt to sleep into agony. For 20 long days, I did not see the sun, only faint traces of light slipping through thick branches above us.

On the morning of December 4th, the kidnappers’ leader announced that we would be released. I did not believe him. I was convinced I would be excluded because I had refused to cooperate by giving my wife’s contact number, even though, in reality, they had already forced it out of me. Under threats, guns, a machete at my neck, and an empty liquor bottle used as a weapon, I had given them everything: her name, the number, even a WhatsApp message sent under extreme duress. But my mind had become so broken by fear that I could no longer distinguish memory from nightmares. I kept thinking I had refused, that I had not complied, and that this meant I would not be released.

Before dawn on December 5th, we were suddenly ordered to move. Guards with rifles lined us up and marched us through a narrow muddy path surrounded by tall grass and trees. We walked barefoot, slipping and falling on the wet ground. We crossed ponds of water up to our chests and pushed through thorns with our bare feet. We did not know where we were being taken or whether this was truly freedom or another cruelty.

I fell many times, my body completely drained. At one point, exhausted, I felt my body give up. I decided to lie down on the cold, wet grass and accept whatever came, snake bite, bullet, or silence. My mind was numb and ready to stop. But my colleague, Lucky, refused to let me die. He lifted me onto his back and carried me for a distance. When we reached another deep pond, the cold water revived something inside me. Soon after, I collapsed again, and another colleague, John, put my arm over his shoulder and dragged me until we reached a small post where the kidnappers finally allowed us to rest. I squatted down, placed my head on my knees, and immediately fell asleep.

Half an hour later, we were forced onto a boat and taken across a lake. Strangely, the guards told me to board first. Once on the other side, a pickup truck arrived and all eleven of us climbed into it. Moments later, a station wagon appeared and one guard singled me out, instructing me to move to that car. Four of us were squeezed into the middle seat, two in the back, with an armed guard in the front. We covered our eyes with our shirts as ordered. I felt the vehicle speeding over rough, unpaved roads, stopping and starting sharply. Through the thin fabric, I saw flashes of light. I may have drifted in and out of sleep; I can’t be sure. Eventually, the car stopped.

When we opened our eyes, we found ourselves standing in the centre of a small town. The vehicles had vanished into the darkness. Only then did we understand we were free.

Today, my heart is full of gratitude. To every person who stood by me and my family through prayers, messages, phone calls, sleepless nights, and even attempts to travel to be close to the situation, thank you. To those who carried the burden of my case day and night until the very end, thank you. Your compassion, courage, and unwavering faith guided me back to life.

My sincere hope is that no human being, anywhere in the world, should ever endure what we endured.

Yassin Mohamed

Kuwait, December 5, 2025