The ten men paddled their boat away from their Islamic State island. They were heading for Mimba, a small freedom-loving island, where they hoped to get food, clothing and houses. As they beached their boat on the white sands of Mimba in the late evening, they could hear the murmurs of life in the town beyond the hills. They lay down to sleep until morning, when they would march into town carrying the banner “Islamic Refugees” which they stuck in the sand.
While they slept they were spotted by a late night walker, who then turned and ran away.
In the morning the refugees woke and hoisted their banner and walked over the hills. They came to the town. There was no one there. Not a soul. The big beautiful buildings were empty. Also, there was not a bit of food anywhere, and no clothing. No one came to help them. After wailing a while they knelt down and prayed to Allah to hurl a curse on those they had counted on, who were traitors, who had left them to face life alone.
After a while one of the ten men stood up and said, “Let us go back to our homes. We will be slaves, but we will get one free meal a day!” Then they leapt into their boat and paddled away.