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Last winter, in preparation for a new project I read a dozen of books about British missions to Central Asia to ascertain the fate of Her Majesty subjects who had either been imprisoned or had allegedly been beheaded by the savage rulers of Transoxiana.

In the end I got carried away by a completely different theme and wrote a completely different book.

I thought that I would never return to those studies once I had given up on that unwritten book, but I was wrong.

In the last week I have been to Tajikistan to establish the situation of my colleague Urunboy Usmonov - who has been detained on charges of contacting the members of the outlawed Islamic party Hizbut Tahrir.

Hizbut Tahrir is an Islamic party, propagating the idea of an Islamic chalifate or the Islamic state uniting all Muslim countries. It's banned in many Central Asian countries, including Tajikistan, though it is allowed to function in Britain.

I not only recalled the somehow archaic word 'ascertain', but while I was in Tajikistan - again and again - I re-remembered all the perseverance and difficulties those historic missionaries encountered.

I started at Dushanbe - the capital of Tajikistan - to meet officials from the Ministries of Foreign and Home affairs, to learn their thoughts and their position on the detainment of Urunboy, because until recently they had been silent on the matter, despite the international uproar and protests. I was also there to express the ³ÉÈËÂÛ̳'s position.

The latter is clear: we have no reason to believe the charges brought against our reporter.

He is lawfully accredited and was carrying out his journalistic work and therefore must be released immediately.

It is noticeable that the officials have been quite annoyed with the international pressure, saying that it is harming the image of Tajikistan to the outside world.

They also have indicated some willingness to resolve the issue sooner rather than later.

But they repeatedly said that according to preliminary investigations there is "serious evidence" of Urunboy's links with Hizbut Tahrir (I'll be back to that "evidence" below).

While I was in Dushanbe I also met some diplomats and rallied round the local journalist association with a simple message: every one of us, could find himself in the place of Urunboy.

In fact it wasn't just a message. By that time it had turned into a rather obsessive state of my mind

In the sleepless nights - whether it was in a reasonable hotel in Dushanbe or later in the UNDP compound in Hodjent - I was constantly tormenting myself with a single thought: while I'm enjoying the comfort of my bed, Urunboy is... I didn't know what exactly was happening to him those nights - another interrogation, sleeping rough in the cell, being bullied by criminals - but in any case I was sure of the unbearable duress of his nights and days.

We came to Hodjent, where Urunboy is being kept prisoner, over the weekend after a six or seven hour car journey through the mountains.

The Monday following the weekend was a national holiday - called Day of a Unity.

Hodjent: pain of the family

Hodjent is an ancient city believed to be built on the banks of Syrdarya by Alexander the Great and in other circumstances I would have enjoyed its beauty over the long weekend. But not this time.

Together with a colleague we shuttled between places: settling down, going to the office where Urunboy worked, seeing the lawyer, laying the ground for an appointment with Urunboy himself.

All of that was necessary and somehow routine business.

However the evening when we went to see Urunboy's family was heartbreaking.

His wife, his grown up children - three daughters and his son - were shocked and devaststed.

Two weeks ago they were a happy family looking forward to celebrating their dad's 60th birthday.

Urunboy is an acclaimed writer and a poet and - in recognition of his service to the community - the local government issued a decision to celebrate his birthday publicly.

And all of a sudden - like lightning out of the blue there was his arrest, a terrifying search at their house the next day. A day when Urunboy said goodbye to all of them, adding that he can't survive another night like his first in captivity.

The family have been allowed to see him just once, and they are still sharing between themselves every single detail of that meeting: how he looked, what he said, how the security officers were alerted and pre-emptive...

All I could do was to reassure them that we - his colleagues - feel as strongly as them, that we are also like a family and will do everything we can, to get him out of the prison.

Meeting Urunboy

Despite of the long weekend we met many people including our lawyer - Faiziniso Vahidova.

Going though the investigation documents with her I saw that there's nothing that constitutes a crime: yes, Urunboy met several members of Hizbut Tahrir, yes, he interviewed some of them, yes, he kept in his computer some files related to that outlawed party.

But he is a professional journalist, accredited by the Tajik Ministry of Foreign Affairs as a reporter for ³ÉÈËÂÛ̳, which expects him both to report and be on the top of any local issue, including a religious issue.

Even the Tajik law distinguishes between an ordinary citizen and a journalist as a subject of norms and regulations.

As if answering our doubts and concerns, at that time the investigator decided to drop two charges one relating to Urunboy's alleged membership of Hizbut Tahrir and the other that he propagated their ideas.

But the the charge that he did not inform the security services about his contacts with the members of Hizbut Tahrir remains.

The real issue now is the unwillingness of the investigation team to drop the charges at all, because the group that detained Urunboy in the first place, the investigator who initiated the criminal case and the prosecutor who sanctioned it - should all answer for their acts - though that is my belief. The investigation is still ongoing.

That was my understanding of the situation when finally it was agreed that we could come at 8 o'clock last Tuesday morning to the provincial headquarters of security services called KNB.

At 8 we were in front of the long two-storey building, which KNB inherited from the Soviet and ominous KGB.

Too many associations went through my mind.

Outside I met a mother in her late 40s who said that - in vain - she had been trying to see her young son who was arrested two months ago.

And her son's charges were the same as Urunboy's.

I left her and Urunboy's son behind, when an officer with short hair and metal in his eyes invited me inside.

I felt somehow guilty: I can meet Urunboy, whereas Urunboy's son can't do the same.

We entered the KNB building and were invited into the first room on the right: a smallish faceless space with two tables and six chairs.

Apart from the security officers there were already two local journalists.

After a while they brought in Urunboy.

We hugged each other and I deliberately tried to touch his body: would he feel any pain.

It seemed to me that he had shrank since the last time I had seen him.

He sat in front of me on the other side of the table.

I said to him that everyone is behind him, that we are doing everything to get him out of here, that we firmly believe he hadn't done anything wrong, that he was carrying out his journalistic duties.

He kept silent.

His eyes were fixed on the security officers.

When I repeated that he hadn't done anything wrong and therefore should not sign any papers, the investigator shouted: "Stop! Stop! You are instructing him!" I replied that I'm just expressing the ³ÉÈËÂÛ̳'s position to him.

I repeated everything to Urunboy again, because I felt somehow that he is listening, but not hearing me.

I asked him whether he had read what had been written in support of him.

(The lawyer had said earlier that she had passed onto him a digest of support statements and letters).

He nervously said: 'No I didn't, I can't read now, nothing goes into my head'.

Then all of a sudden he burst into a tirade: 'A journalist shouldn't go after the sensationalism, but should remember his citizen's duties!' (a phrase I had heard so many times over the last few days from so many Tajik officials, including the security officer)

Then without any link he continued: 'I believe in the just and modern society, which our President builds and I'm sure that the people who are appointed by the President (he pointed out at security officers) will do justice!'

That was the end of our meeting.

I deliberately won't go into my feelings of horror, which I made clear to the security officials afterwards, but thinking over and over again all the details of that short meeting I came to an unconsolable conclusion - he might have thought: 'He came, he supported, he goes, but I'm staying with these investigators, in this cell, in this country...'

And that was the most unbearable thought that goes through my mind...
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