SATIRE | Following the declaration of the nation as a caliphate as reported by fellow columnist Mariam Mokhtar on Friday, there was no reason for any re-assessment of the plans.

The conclusion was inevitable. We were one of the last batches of kafirs (infidels) to take flight from a country which we had called home for almost seven decades.

The farewell party hosted by my brethren of all races had been a sedate affair at the five-star hotel. Food was plentiful but the only beverage that could be served was air sirap. We could not even get a can of cola because it was considered to have originated from the US and the shareholders were Yahudi (Jewish).

Speeches were made and we embraced each other and said our goodbyes in private. We talked about the good times, the camaraderie and the friendship between the believers and the nons. In public, they wouldn’t want to be seen touching a kafir. Two friends stood at the locked door of the private room in case the religious police walked in.

The journey to the airport was uneventful. But I was separated from the wife and daughter who were ushered to the “Women Only” coach on the fast train while I sat among the men, some of whom were in Arab robes.

At the airport check-in counter, the burqa-clad lady at the counter cleared us fast. She was happy to see the back of us - another family of infidels leaving the caliphate.

At the security checkpoint, I produce a card stating that I have an electronic device for my heart ailment inserted in my body. I didn’t have to go through the scanning device. I was not frisked either, because no one wants to touch an infidel.

On the aerotrain to the gates, we are once again separated. The shelves of the duty-free shop were empty. The gift of single-malt whisky for my friend was nowhere to be seen...