An Ethiopian man could not celebrate Father’s Day on Sunday, as his dream of being united with his daughter – whom he has never met – entered its eighth year.

Mohamad Kadir, 29, fled death in an Ethiopian prison when his wife was four months pregnant with their daughter, Hangatu, which means ‘sunrise’.

After travelling from one conflict-torn country to another, he was finally granted subsidiary protection in Malta, which sadly prevents him from being reunited with his wife and daughter.

Earlier this year, the European Commission against Racism and Intolerance said the exclusion of subsidiary protection beneficiaries from the right to family reunification caused suffering and seriously undermined their integration.

In Malta, there are parents who have not seen their children for as long as 13 years, director of the Emigrants’ Commission Alfred Vella told the Times of Malta. He appealed for the right to family reunification to be extended to holders of subsidiary protection as a humanitarian gesture.

Mr Kadir is Oromo. Despite being the biggest ethnic group in Ethiopia and the Horn of Africa, it is persecuted. According to Amnesty International, between 2011 and 2014, 5,000 Oromo were jailed for peacefully opposing the government. In 2016, some 100 people were killed in one incident when security forces opened fire on protesters across the Oromia region.

Mr Kadir’s brother Sabona disappeared in 2007. Mr Kadir recalls an incident in which he rebuilt his house with the help of his neighbours soon after he got married: “One early morning, while having breakfast, five officers suddenly turned up at our hut. They asked us to get out, killed my horse and burnt down our house.

“Soon after, I met with some friends in front of the authorities’ offices, calling for equality,” he said, crossing his arms above his head to symbolise imprisonment, something that he did at such protests.

There is a silent war in Ethiopia against the Oromo, says Mohamad Kadir. He has never met his daughter, Hangatu, which means ‘sunrise’. Photo: Jonathan Borg

Mr Kadir was jailed with four others. When one died man after a couple of months, he saw he had two options: “Everyone tries to survive as best as they can. I could either die like him or try to escape.”

He spent two years in Sudan before crossing the Sahara. When he eventually made it to Libya he felt as if he had jumped from the frying pan into the fire.

The time he spent there was so traumatic words fail him when he tries to explain: “There were corpses everywhere, and people would even steal each other’s coffee.

“Once captured, we spent days in a military camp, where we were tasked with carrying bonfire wood, washing the officers’ clothes and cleaning their weapons. After that we were jailed in Libya’s ‘Guantanamo prison’ in Benghazi, but we fled to Tripoli.”

His group had no other option but to continue north, and Mr Kadir remains grateful to a Maltese fisherman who helped upon coming across their six-metre boat. Once in Malta he settled down and started regular employment. It was here that he first saw photos of his daughter.

When they talk, he tells Hangatu he will one day return to be with her, something quite impossible. “I am now physically free, but mentally still imprisoned with my people in Ethiopia… and so far away from my daughter and wife,” he says.