By Aditi James
On July 16, 2013, I was out to dinner with my family, celebrating my uncle’s birthday. Usually, Sunil, my husband, is the kind of guy who never forgets anyone’s birthday — even though he was away at sea with the merchant navy. But he never sent congratulations. I didn’t worry too much at the time. I thought he probably had weak network or was just busy. Two days later, I learned that his ship, Ocean Centurion, had been attacked.
The pirates — they’re now thought to have been a Nigerian gang — kicked open Sunil’s cabin door, blindfolded and beat him. When Sunil, the captain, and his crew came to, the ship had been ransacked. The pirates were gone, but the ship was now drifting aimlessly at sea. Using nautical charts, Sunil guided the ship to the nearest port, Lome in Togo. But there, officials (who couldn’t speak English) made Sunil and two of his fellow sailors sign statements in French (a language they didn’t know). And then: Sunil and the sailors were jailed on suspicion of colluding with the pirates. It turned out that I was his only hope.
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Source: ozy.com