Sweden – Expressen, Oct. 27, 2025
Twenty-four years ago, the Swedish journalist Dawit Isaak was imprisoned in Eritrea.
His daughter, Danait Isaak, writes about the longing and worry on his 61st birthday.
Today, my father Dawit Isaak turns 61. Yet another birthday he will spend behind bars. Yet another birthday where I, my siblings, and my mother are not allowed to celebrate him with cake, songs, or presents.
My dad, who has been imprisoned for 24 years.
Today, my heart feels heavy. These are years that feel endless, filled with longing, worry, and unanswered questions.
Many know his name, but to me, he is not just a symbol or a voice for press freedom and freedom of expression. He is my father—a man I love and miss every single day.
I was only three years old when my father was imprisoned. Though my memories are few, they are precious.
I remember his warmth, his love of books, and how we shared a simple joy in something as ordinary as cheese.
These small details remind me of who he was—a calm and reassuring presence who perhaps gave me the quiet strength I carry within me today.
When my father was briefly released in 2005, I remember our conversation planning his return home. He promised he would come back. But that promise was broken when he was taken again.
Yet despite years of silence and prison walls, my family and I in Sweden refuse to give up hope.
