My father always promised victims he would clear his name because they deserved justice more than anyone
Son of the only man to be convicted of the 1988 atrocity on his battle to prove his dad’s innocence and what it was like growing up in Scotland as a child of the Lockerbie bomber
TODAY, on the anniversary of the Lockerbie bombing, the son of the only person convicted of the atrocity has told how he is still gripped by sadness.
In January 2001, Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed Al Megrahi was sentenced for the deadly 1988 bombing, in what many now believe was a miscarriage of justice.
For his son Ali, the anniversary is a time to reflect on the worst terrorist atrocity ever committed in the UK and the 270 people killed when Pan Am flight 103 exploded over Lockerbie.
His father died aged 60 in 2012 of prostate cancer after he was controversially released early from his 27-year prison sentence on compassionate grounds.
Ali, now 24, still grieves for him – and the fight to clear his dad’s name goes on.
Speaking from his home in Libya, Ali said: “My father always promised the victims that he would clear his name because they deserved more than anyone for justice to be done. He felt so sorry for them and so do I. I told my dad on his death bed that I would fulfil his promise and I am 100 per cent certain that we will.”
He is named, with Megrahi’s wife Aisha and 27 relatives of British victims on a legal application led by lawyer Aamer Anwar calling for a posthumous appeal to be referred to the courts.
Ali was a small child when he became the son of the Lockerbie bomber and life for him, his mother Aisha and his three brothers and a sister changed forever. He said: “It was devastating when my father was blamed for the bombing. It was hard for us, especially for my mother, who had to be both mother and father to us at the same time. It was a heavy burden for her.”
He remembers as a six year-old being held by the hand through security on a visit to his father in Camp Zeist, the former US Air Force base in the Netherlands where a special Scottish court had been set up for the trial.
Ali said: “We were small children and sniffer dogs were all around us, up close, smelling us. I remember crying because I was terrified of the dogs. My mother tried to calm us but we were all frightened. In Camp Zeist they saw us not as children but criminals.”
The family were led into a stark visiting room, where his father welcomed them.
Ali said: “He was trying to smile, to comfort us but I could see how pained he was. He hugged and kissed us. He was always loving and affectionate to us. He lived to see us.”
The trial lasted nine months and Megrahi served the first part of his sentence in Glasgow’s Barlinnie prison, where he was kept in segregation.
In 2005, he was moved to Greenock prison, where he mixed with other lifers and where Ali said his family were always treated with respect.
The Megrahis settled in a quiet street in the Glasgow suburb of Newton Mearns, where Aisha tried to create a bubble of normality for her children.
Ali said: “She always tried her best to make us happy, to take the sadness from us. She told us constantly that our father
was innocent. We believed it with all our hearts.
“Sometimes I would see her crying and she would say she was watching a sad film. Now as an adult I know she was crying for my father.”
Growing up, Ali longed to have his dad with him, to talk to him, to love him.
He said: “At parents’ evenings at school, I was jealous of other children having their father there. My father didn’t come to pick me up, a taxi driver did.”
At school, the other kids didn’t know who he was and on advice from the Libyan Embassy, Megrahi was dropped from his name while he was there. He fitted in easily and had lots of friends.
He said: “The other children were very friendly to me but I never spoke about my dad. I was treated no differently to anyone else. I was always worried that would change if they knew.”
But his father was regularly in the news and Ali would hide in the house when he was in the headlines, fearing his picture would be taken and his identity exposed.
There were regular attacks on the family home – eggs were thrown at the windows and security cameras smashed.
He said: “We were scared and I used to sneak into my mother’s bed because I couldn’t sleep at night. I was worried people would come in and get us.”
Despite patches of hostility, Ali has great affection for Scots and he considers the country as much his home as Libya.
But he does not have the same regard for our justice system, which he claims has failed the victims’ families.
The family were back in Tripoli when his father was released in August 2009, by justice secretary Kenny MacAskill.
Megrahi had served just over eight years of a life sentence but had terminal prostate cancer and doctors said he had only three months to live.
Ali said his father was pressured by the Scottish Government to give up an ongoing appeal to secure his release. They deny the claim.
He said: “He had a choice, to die in prison or be with his family. It was tough for him to give up the appeal but I agree with his decision.”
Megrahi received a hero’s welcome on his return to Libya but for Ali it was all about having a father at last.
The cloud of his illness hung over the family but Megrahi survived for another two years thanks to chemotherapy and radiotherapy.
He said: “In the last four months I barely left his bedside. I wanted every moment with him. I watched him go downhill every day and even his skin became so sore I could barely touch his hand. I cried a lot. I knew he was dying.”
In his final days, Megrahi spoke of his vow to clear his name and now Ali spends his days, with regular calls to Anwar, working on the appeal.
If his determination pays off, he hopes for a normal life – no longer just the son of the Lockerbie bomber.
He said: “I will always think of the victims but I want to move on from Lockerbie, to be just an everyday person with an everyday life.”