Adel Altamimi
Warrior of Love
“If I am not forgiving them, I am still in a destructive relationship with them.”
—Dr. Henry Cloud
In 1998, when Adel Altamimi was nine years old, he made a discovery that would change his life forever. Riding his bike home from school in his hometown of Baghdad, he came upon a dojo, a martial arts studio, filled with rows of men rehearsing karate forms. Adel was a strong child who enjoyed challenging himself, so he was immediately drawn to the crisp, disciplined movements of the men. He soon joined the dojo and dedicated himself to the art of karate. Over the ensuing years, he developed a deep bond with his sensei Moyed, a bond that resembled a father-son relationship. Then, in 2003, the United States invaded Iraq. Adel recalls going to visit his sensei at his house, as he often did. He opened the door to find Moyed’s family members distraught and covered in blood. They told him that Moyed had been killed in a bombing at their local gas station. The bomb had killed four hundred people in the vicinity. This was Adel’s initiation into the horrors of war, and into the journey of forgiveness.
In 2004, Adel and his brother decided to channel their anger over Moyed’s death to help rebuild Iraq. At this point, Iraqis had to choose between joining the Americans in their fight to forge a democracy or joining al-Qaeda. Adel believed in the American vision, so he, his brother, and his cousins began working alongside the Americans as convoy drivers. Every morning on his way into work, he passed dead bodies along the roads. He kept Moyed in the back of his mind as he adjusted to this new reality. During this time, the terrorist group was on the lookout for Iraqis helping the Americans. One day, Adel’s mother saw her son’s name on an al-Qaeda list of suspected collaborators. She sent word to Adel, who was in hiding, not to go outside—not even to come home. He understood that he was risking his life when he decided to make his way back to his family. On his way home, he came upon a fake checkpoint. Al-Qaeda insurgents shot into his car, but he made it home unharmed.
In 2005, when Adel’s brother was leaving the U.S. Marines base, an al-Qaeda sniper shot him in the head. He was transported by marine helicopter to a military hospital. The surgeons saved his life, but he lost both of his eyes and his nose. Adel’s family wanted him to quit his job, but he was determined to continue. A few months later, Adel, his two friends, and one of his friend’s brother were leaving work when they came upon another fake checkpoint. The insurgents questioned them, then ordered them out of the car. When they inspected his car, they found the U.S. Marines badges. They beat Adel and the others. Then they put plastic bags over their heads and threw them in a car to transport them to a secret location. Adel felt sure he would be killed. He thought of his family: his oldest brother, killed by Saddam Hussein; his other brother, blinded and disfigured; his mother, father, and younger brother, waiting for him at home. Adel and his friends were locked in a room and the plastic bags were removed. They were seated in front of a camera. Masked men began yelling at them, calling them terrorists for helping the marines. Their captors told them they were going to kill them for their involvement with the Americans. They grabbed his friend Ahmed and Ahmed’s brother, and placed them in front of Adel. Then they began decapitating them while Adel watched in shock. “I was really feeling like, ‘I’m going to die—this is my end.’”
The horror was impossible to process. Only moments before, Adel had been hanging out with Ahmed, laughing and joking, and now his lifeless body was propped before him. The terrorists then brought the severed heads over to Adel, taunting him. He remembers becoming emotionless at the sight of the blood. In that moment, the only thing that came to his mind was his mother, father, and his sensei Moyed. He recalled thinking to himself that he would finally be seeing his sensei soon in the afterlife. He remained calm, knowing that soon he would be among loved ones. He began praying to God. As Adel prayed, he heard loud gunshots all around him. U.S. Marines burst into the building. They shouted for him to run up to the top of the building for safety. “‘Don’t worry—we got you. We got you!’ And they cut us free. It was like a dream.” Adel and his friend were the only two rescued by the marines that day. Shortly after, Adel returned to work.
Throughout 2006 and 2007, conditions in Iraq deteriorated. Adel and his family moved to Lebanon. Then Adel’s father decided that they needed to move to the United States. After enduring such extreme trauma, Adel found arriving in America to be jarring and surreal. He was grateful to be in a safe place, but he felt isolated and guilty for having made it out alive when so many of his friends and family members had not been so lucky. His brother also struggled to adapt, trying to navigate a new world without his vision. He fell into a deep depression and attempted suicide several times. Adel, too, became profoundly depressed, plunged into a dark place—unable to sleep, overwhelmed by stress. Like his brother, Adel attempted suicide. “I was really angry, like really pissed. Anxiety, I can’t sleep. I was breaking everything. It’s not me.” Adel wanted to leave America and return to Iraq to die. He remembers his dad sitting him down and saying, “You’re just going to give up? You believe in God, and He saved you. He brought you to this beautiful country. You have to fight. Back to training—back to fighting. That’s what you love. Remember Moyed.” His father reminded him that his true passion lay in his ability to fight. He told his son to do it in honor of his sensei. This reignited the fire inside Adel.
Adel moved to Los Angeles, where he began training at a gym and working at a restaurant washing dishes. He taught himself English by watching movies and TV shows, and slowly he became more comfortable in his new home. He excelled in the world of mixed martial arts, impressing everyone who saw him train. The journey wasn’t easy: he lived out of his car, slept in a gym, and trained day and night to improve his fighting skills. He fell in love and had his heart shattered, but he always managed to pick himself up and fight on. Each day he grew stronger, faster, and more dangerous inside the ring. In 2019, Adel signed as a professional MMA fighter with Bellator, an American mixed martial arts promotion company, and his career has continued to flourish.
When Adel speaks about the hardships that he has endured, he does so with a practicality and confidence that show his ability to rise above the past. The key to his survival—the source of his hope—has been his relationship with God. Every time he felt like giving up, he would talk to God and be reminded of how many obstacles he had overcome and how many blessings he had received along the way. His faith that God guides his destiny gives him the strength to absorb the blows and fight on. Despite all he has suffered and all he has lost—the family and friends who have been killed—Adel holds no bitterness. “I never hate someone. I never hate.” And he is committed to sharing his faith with others. “I always want to be someone people look up to and believe in—believe in my life, and believe in God. That’s why I always talk about God.”
In a sport often blinded by materialism and ego, Adel wants to be a beacon of hope and humility. “I want the new kids to come, too. I don’t want to be that person who tries to make money from it. I want to be someone people look up to. This is who I am. I feel like God’s with me.” The faith that guided him through the war-torn streets of Baghdad, the faith that lifted him after the loss of his sensei, the destruction of his home, and the murder of his closest friends—this is what sustains Adel today. “God is first; he wants me to stay alive,” he says. Adel pours his heart into rebuilding, never focusing on revenge; his goal is always to make the world a better place. And in this fight, the greatest weapon is love: “I just love my family, love people around me, love anyone. I just try to help people wherever I can. As a human being, we need love. God is all about love.” And love, for Adel, is the essence of forgiveness: “If you read the Bible or the Koran, He talks always about love and forgiveness, and forgive like it doesn’t matter that we have been hurt—it doesn’t matter what you do. Always, God opens His door for you. If somebody hurts me? I will forgive. This is me in life and in God. It’s love.” Adel knows that he wouldn’t have been able to get through all that he has survived without the presence of God in his life. “Put God in your life and you will be saved. What I went through—because I believe in Him, He saved me. And that’s why I love this country, because it saved me, too.”
Despite everything that Adel has survived, he knows that tomorrow is never guaranteed. He wants people to know that they should “always show love and forgiveness. Never hate someone.” If he ever came in contact with the man who took his brother’s sight, he wouldn’t seek revenge. If the man asked for forgiveness, he would forgive him. Adel recalls how his father never harbored hate toward anyone. If someone stole from his father, he would tell Adel that it was okay—that person obviously needed the money more than they did. He was raised reading the Koran and being taught the importance of forgiveness. That’s why, for Adel, the only way to escape the hatred and violence that consumed his homeland was through forgiveness. Forgiving and loving all has become his life’s mission, for which he credits God and His teachings in the Koran. “Forgiveness is just love. God is all about love, and it’s any culture, it’s any religion.”
Adel may get knocked down, but he always rises again with a full heart, ready to forgive, eager to spread love, committed to overcoming hatred. Few have lost so much and yet had so much to give. Adel’s story shows us all that each day is a gift, every hardship is a lesson, and every breath we take should fill us with hope for a brighter tomorrow.
Of all the stories in this book, Adel’s was the most difficult for me to hear. The horrors he experienced were unimaginable, and yet he is able to reflect on them with a sense of calm and clarity that is hard to fathom. Like so many of the other people with whom I spoke, he credits his faith with his resiliency. When events transcend our ability to comprehend, a belief in a higher power can keep us strong and help us to restore hope.
When I was talking to Adel about his story, I was stunned by his positivity. Most of us will never experience anything remotely like what he has endured. After interviewing him, I left reconsidering various parts of my life in a new light. Situations I once felt were so challenging and almost impossible to deal with, I now saw as mere speed bumps instead of roadblocks. Sometimes, when we are able to shift our perspective by taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture, it changes the way we might act—and react—moving forward. I wanted to include Adel’s story not to minimize the challenges anyone reading this book might face, but rather to exemplify that by shifting our attitude and outlook, we can prevent our past from dictating our future.