I was sitting down watching the coverage about the release of the latest Brummie Guantanamo victim, specifically Azmat Begg talking about his son Moazzem, when my mom chirped up with the following revelation.

Apparantly, in a bungalow just around the corner from my mom’s house, there once lived a little old Pakistani woman. She was in her 90s, according to my mom, and a frail but independant and very pious woman, indeed she had been to the ‘Hajj’ many times already and she constantly prayed for her family. They would meet each other out in the neighbourhood and exchange greetings as good neighbours do.

One day there was a knocking on my mom’s door and upon opening it my mom found the little old lady standing there in a distressed state. Naturally, she was ushered in and seated and given a cup of tea. When she had calmed down she told my mom of her woes – some youths had been relentlessly harrasing her at her bungalow and she was at her wits end – she was frightened, (she lived alone), and had come to my mom for help.

My mom got hold of my brother and he called the police. When they appeared they asked a lot of questions and found out as much as they could and then eventually made an arrangement that would get the police over to the little old lady’s bungalow as soon as there was a sign of trouble from these sick youths.

And that’s it as far as that anecdote goes! A little old lady was helped out by a good neighbour and an understanding local police. So what was the Guantanamo connection? – the little old lady was Moazzem Begg’s grandma.