‘We got one of the last flights out. With a sigh of relief, we were free’

Fergal O’Connorfrom Lisselton, Co Kerry, spent the last six months teaching in Tripoli. Here he tells of his battle to exit Libya

RETURNING to Libya from Malta on Saturday evening, everything seemed normal. We knew the second city of Benghazi had fallen to the people, but that was 1,000km away and Tripoli was understood to be very much pro-Gadaffi, with reports that he appeared himself on the city’s main street, to wild support.

We went to teach at school as normal on Sunday and everything seemed to be calm as we expected.

That evening while out at the shop, I noticed something strange in the atmosphere. Shops were full of customers filling up trolleys with provisions. On the streets men were gathered in groups as if they were discussing something serious. I just knew something big was coming.

Later that same evening we heard chanting from an organised mob, who were beginning a march 200 yards from the school compound, in the Western suburb of Gorghi. This was accompanied by loud fireworks and what I am sure were gunshots. Watching the BBC and Al Jazerra it was reported anti-government protestors were clashing with police throughout Tripoli.

At 2am I was awoken by a friend in Malta to advise me to stay safe and to make arrangements to evacuate in the morning. After this call I heard the sounds of another march again on Gorghi. We were worried the school could be a target as the government had taken control of it by installing a military general. Watching the interview by Saif Islam Gadaffi at 3am when he ranted about civil war and bloodshed left us all shaken.

A kind Libyan friend had arranged for us to be removed from the school grounds and taken to her house in the countryside. We had planned on making a break for the airport but had heard reports of disturbances in that area. We sat it out, discussing our options, unable to call home as mobile signals were cut.

Watching the various news reports it was becoming obvious we were in a very dangerous situation.

In a dictatorship it is hard to separate fact from fiction. We heard reports that 8,000 criminals had been released onto the streets to claims military jets were firing on civilians. We also heard Gadaffi had planned to bomb the city of Benghazi. The next morning we made for the airport.

Outside the airport was chaotic. Several hundred swelling to thousands were attempting to gain access through the departure gates. Airport security could not cope with the masses so soldiers wielding batons drove the crowds away and onto the airport car park. The female members of our party were allowed inside for their own safety. Reaching them was impossible as phone signals were cut.

At this stage there were thousands in the car park. While I was in the middle of a Skype call with a friend in Dublin, one of the girls managed to get out of the terminal and tell us we were booked on a flight to Istanbul. Elated, we made our way to the terminal point. Security were having none of it and it looked like we would not get in. However, the typical Libyan male has a weakness for European females and this was exploited and we managed to squeeze inside.

The modestly-sized terminal was at bursting point. It was a scene which resembled a refugee centre. We finally reached our party who had overheard a German pilot was flying out of Libya in an hour and had been looking to carry as many passengers as possible as the flight was not full. This pilot seemed intent in getting as many people out as possible before the expected closure of the airport and the arrival of Libyan fighter jets.

Following the pilot, we trudged our way to the gate at snails pace such was the volume of people in the airport.

In this chaos our group became separated which made thing very traumatic as we had to together in order to get past the visa desk. In Libya, an exit visa is required to leave the country. None of our group had one but our Libyan friend had organised a friend of theirs to look after this if we got to the airport.

As we were split up as a group, it looked like some of us may not make it past this control. However, by a quirk of fate we met our contact and he got us through the visa checks.

We were the last on the plane and joyfully embraced our friend who we had lost earlier in the drama.

About half an hour into the flight, the pilot announced that the airport had closed, and our flight was one of the last to leave. A huge sigh of relief went around the plane, we were free.

I don’t want to let this opportunity pass without mentioning the pilot, Guido Fromme, whose bravery and compassion makes him a credit to his profession, his nationality and humanity. He now has several Irish friends.

Also to the kind Libyan whom I cannot name for his safety, our thoughts are with you and your family.

Also our thoughts are with another colleague, who remains in Tripoli.