All language subtitles for The.Perfect.Story.2022.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

We all tell stories.

Our own stories,
stories about others.

Some stories become part
of our official history

and can change the way
we look at the world.

Some stories can change
the way we look at ourselves.

I've been telling other
people's stories

for a couple of decades,

which is just another way
of saying

that I'm a journalist.

Telling Ismael's story

had been one of my career
highlights.

I thought it was one of
the easiest stories to tell.

It turned out to be
one of the hardest.

Michelle: When Ismael
was 13-years-old,

a group that called itself
the Islamic Courts Union

seized control of Mogadishu.

That sent shock waves
throughout the West

and dire warnings
that this group

was the African Taliban.

In Somalia though,

there was some cautious
optimism.

The group definitely
had some radical members.

But they also had moderate
politicians.

And most importantly,

they managed to take power away
from corrupt warlords.

They brought a semblance
of peace.

But, that stability
didn't last long.

After less than a year
in control,

Ethiopian troops backed
by the US invaded Somalia

to push out the Islamic
Courts Union.

Then came two devastating years
of war.

And during that conflict,

a group called Al Shabaab,

gained tremendous power.

Once the war ended

and Ethiopia was pushed back
across the border,

Al Shabaab was there to stay.

And over the years they evolved
into a terrorist group

forcing countless child
soldiers into their ranks.

By the time Ismael
was 16-years-old,

Al Shabaab had officially
joined forces with Al Qaeda.

Michelle: Holding you down.

Yeah.

She never tells you
how she feels.

I never get emotional
talking this,

Michelle: I first met Ismael

on a reporting trip
to Mogadishu.

Somalia had always been

one of my favourite countries
to cover.

It's a fascinating,
resilient place,

although so often horribly
frustrating and tragic.

As a national security
correspondent

for the Toronto Star,

my beat was to cover
the conflict.

But I tried to highlight
the positive too.

Over the years,

many of the contacts I made
professionally

became good friends.

I think that often happens
in risky places

where the stakes are so high.

Sahal Abdulle,

a Canadian and former photo
journalist with Reuters,

is one of those close friends.

During the war with Ethiopia,

he barely survived
a car bombing.

That bombing did kill
Ali Sharmake,

another Somali Canadian
journalist

and a friend of ours.

Sahal: We, as a journalist,

we report so we can make
a difference.

We are a journalist.

We're supposed to be observer,
not to be part of it.

But it is...

I mean when you talk
about that it is...

yes, at the end of the day
you are a human being.

So when you see kids being
ripped apart.

Person missing,

elderly lady missing a leg
or hand.

It will, it will affect you.

You don't, you think,
okay, you make a difference,

you might stop this.

And things still continue.

And you go like:
what's the point?

Michelle: No matter how many
times I went to Somalia

or the connections I made,

there was always the unease
of being an outsider.

I understood my place.

And I did feel what I was doing
was important.

But sometimes I just felt
guilty too.

Because I would come and go,
taking stories with me.

And if the stories didn't
make a difference,

what was the point of asking
people to tell them.

During a trip in 2010,

a contact of mine told me

there was someone I needed
to meet.

Do you remember
when we first met?

Michelle: And I remember when
we took this, this picture,

there were four boys
that this happened to.

But Ismael was the only one
who was sort of willing

and most eager to talk.

And he sat down. I said I'll
need to take a picture.

And the escorts were yelling:

It was time to go, time to go.

And he just sat down

and he took off
his prosthetic leg

and he put his hand up.
And he just struck this pose.

And, I remember
I started crying.

I was trying to focus
the camera.

Because he just looked so young

and it was so horrific
what happened.

And then as I was leaving,

because everything in Mogadishu
then happened so fast,

and, you know, here I am in my
flack jacket and my helmet

and he's in, you know,
sitting there on a couch.

Probably after I leave
I don't know where he's going.

And as I left he was saying -

begging me to take him
to Canada.

And he looked on my bag

and there was a little
Canadian pin.

And um, so I, you know,
took the--

I said: Do you want this?

And so I gave him the pin

and my last image of him
was down on his -

he dropped it and he was
trying to find it.

And I'll probably start crying
telling this story now. Um...

I guess I was getting cynical.

But I really thought his story
would be among those

that were just told
and forgotten.

But, something unexpected
happened.

The story prompted action
in Canada.

Toronto's powerful Somali
diaspora

started a group they called
Project Ismael,

and they raised funds,
spread his story

and tried to get him help.

Sahal made it his personal
mission

to get Ismael to safety.

The little kid who went
through this one.

I said that's fine,
I will try to help you,

ah, to take you from this pain
and ah, and what have you.

And at that particular time,

I don't know how,
but in my mind I said

this kid went through
so, let's, let's help him

regardless of what happened,

who did it or what have you.

I just saw this human being
who needed help.

I can't save Somalia,

but I think I can try to save
at least this kid.

Michelle: And Sahal did
rescue him.

He managed to get Ismael
out of Mogadishu to Nairobi,

where he unofficially
adopted him.

Since Ismael had escaped
Al Shabaab's custody,

he was still at risk in Kenya

where the group had a presence.

But just a few months later,

the United Nations accepted
Ismael

as a refugee in need
of immediate help.

And they quickly found him
a home.

Ismael was given refuge
in Harstad, Norway,

200 kilometres north
of the Arctic Circle.

That was 2011.

And Ismael did
what was expected of him.

He went to high school,
became fluent in Norwegian,

joined a local soccer team.

And I kept telling his story,

writing updates about
how well he was doing.

The next chapter in Ismael's
story came in April 2018.

That's when he got his
Norwegian citizenship.

I was really excited for him.

He had been homesick

and desperately wanted
to visit family and friends

back in Somalia.

Once he had that Norwegian
passport,

he could return home
for the first time

since fleeing almost
a decade earlier.

And I would go with him

to film, to keep telling
his story.

What's that?

It's the national anthem
or the--

Do you know it?

Woman: Ishmael Khalif Abdulle.

Michelle: I thought his
passport would bring relief.

He was a full-fledged
Norwegian citizen

with all the protections
that brought.

We could start planning
his trip to Mogadishu now.

But once I got back to Toronto,

he started sending
worrying texts.

Ismael had agreed
to come to Toronto

following a terrible summer.

After getting those texts,

I had gone to see him in
Norway, without the camera.

He told me he had suffered
as breakdown.

He'd lost his apartment
and had to get a new one.

He stopped going to school.

I thought maybe coming
to Toronto would help.

He had wanted to meet the
members of Project Ismael.

He said he'd always dreamed
of Canada.

And when we were together,

we could figure out how
to film his trip home.

But I was starting to worry

that I was pushing him
too hard.

Was this about him
or the story or both?

George: I'm very excited
to have a great run,

Michelle Shephard
is on her way in.

First let's set this up.

On September 10th, 2001,

Michelle Shephard
was in Toronto

reporting on a purse snatching
for the Toronto Star.

It seemed like an important
story at the time.

Next day, Michelle stood
in Manhattan,

September 11th, ground zero,

breathing in dust from the
fallen World Trade Center.

She didn't know it then,
but that moment

was the beginning of a ten
year journey,

a journey she has written
about in her book called

"Decade of Fear."

Please welcome
Michele Shephard.

- How are you?
- Hi.

- So nice to see you.
- Nice to see you. Thanks.

You can walk into a scenario

and you can start to tell
a story.

But the more you tell
a story the closer

- you're going to get to it.
- Yeah.

And then you have to
re-evaluate what your role is.

What is your role now

when you try to tell people
these stories?

I think I want to bring
the parts of the world

that I don't think people
understand home to them.

So I'm so lucky that
at the Star

they've given me this really
long leash

that I can travel the world.

So people are not gonna
be able to go to Somali,

people are not gonna be able
to go to Yemen,

parts of Pakistan, Guantanamo
Bay way too many times.

So what I try and do is,
is, you know,

bring, bring the people
who are there their stories.

So that they're not just
thought of as, you know,

the other or um, a country
that we don't understand.

I try and bring that home.

Can you do that and not
get too close to a story?

No. I mean you get too close.

I think this idea of being of
pure objectivity in journalism,

it just doesn't exist.

Um, I think you do your best to
tell the story from all sides.

But of course you get really
close, yeah.

There's a lot of stories
that I've come close to.

I'm really excited to go
pick him up.

It's just weird that I actually
feel so nervous.

I actually do feel nervous.
I don't know why.

I'm obviously excited,

but I think because he's been
through so much,

ah, since we last filmed
with him,

which was in Norway

when we did the citizenship
ah, ceremony.

And I just think he had such
a crash after that

and we were all so worried
about him.

And I guess, yeah, I just,
I guess, I feel nervous,

that I hope he's okay.

Hey, Mama.
Both: Good to see you.

- How are you doing?
- Good. How are you doing?

- I'm doing--
- You must be so tired.

They stopped you
a hundred times?

- At ah, where though?
- Here.

Like at the Customs here?
Oh no.

Did you say what--
Oh, I'm sure they loved that.

Really?

Seriously? The Custom agent
looked at Google,

like at the stories.
Oh, that's ridiculous.

God.

Do you want to practice
driving when you're here?

- Really?
- No.

Yeah, I wish.

All right.

This is it.

- Looks nice.
- It's cute, eh? Yeah.

It is cute.

And it's cheaper than
a hotel room. Go figure.

Wow.

It's very nice place.

Look a TV.

The phone.

Man: All right,
welcome to CN Tower.

Bonjour,
bienvenue à la Tour CN.

La version française
était sync.

And we're heading up
at 20 kilometres per hour.

That's 15 miles per hour.

It takes about 58 seconds
to reach the lookout level.

- Any questions?
- Do you have any questions?

- You can look down as well.
- Oh shit.

Man: Yeah.
All:

Michelle: It was fun filming
in Toronto with Ismael.

It felt like I was just showing
a friend around my hometown.

Man: Please watch yourself
on the way out.

- Oh. Yeah.
- Yeah.

Remember I said there
was another airport.

That's over here.

He said he felt stronger
and he definitely seemed it.

But he was still uneasy

whenever the camera came on.

It seemed like he felt he had
to perform for the film,

to take on the role of Ismael

the always grateful refugee.

The Toronto Star, I showed you
over there, that's like there.

Do you want to take any notes

or anything this afternoon
before we go?

But, you know, you've had
some tough times there too.

- Absolutely, yeah.
- Right?

That's okay to say all that.
Like just be completely honest

because, you know,
all of that is your story

and all of that makes sense
to people here.

Yeah. I will.

You know, because sometimes
I think even the stories

that, you know, I've done
on you over the years

for the newspaper,

it's always like the happy
refugee story, right?

Yeah, yeah, absolutely.

Like look at him,
he's doing so great in Harstad.

You know, wow, this kid
from Mogadishu is -

and, and, you know,
that's sort of -

those are the kind of stories
that people want to believe.

But it's more complicated
than that.

And that's what happened
to you.

Hello, Mohamed.

Who is this?
Oh my God, oh my God,

oh my God, oh my God...

- I think it won't take you
more than a few seconds

to realize what a special,
special man he is.

When I met him when everything
that happened to him,

he was just a teenager.

I want him to tell his own
story.

He's a little bit nervous,
even though he's,

- he's told it...
- I am nervous.

many times before, very
patiently to me many times.

So please, please help me

in giving him a warm
introduction.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Thank you very much.

Michelle: That Toronto trip
was the last time I saw Ismael

before we returned to Somalia.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

The Toronto Star story
was part, however small,

of the reason he was able
to escape Mogadishu.

Now I was helping
bring him back.

- Hey, Sahal.
- Yes. Hey Ismael.

Hello...

We should talk a little
bit about Mogadishu.

What's it going to be like
when we get there,

like the security concerns?

Because I know Ismael was
talking about going there

for a long time. And you
and I were talking, Sahal,

earlier about maybe
that's not smart right now.

Like it's still, still not
entirely safe in that way.

So I wouldn't recommend him

to stay on an extended visit.

So a quick visit to see
the family

and not cross certain streets

would be, I think, my advice.

And ah, to make this short,

maybe a week,
maximum two weeks.

Would he still be targeted
because of who he is?

Or is it just anybody
right now?

All right, we will see you
in Mogadishu soon.

- Thank you.
- Okay. Sahal. A salaam.

- A salaam. Good night.
- Bye.

All right, thank you,
bye bye.

Bye bye.

Michelle: He couldn't wait
to return.

But I was just nervous.

Would he be triggered
going back

and have another breakdown?

And how would he feel
when he was there,

having this white film crew
follow him around?

The ways in which I had become

part of his life
made me uneasy.

It felt like I was breaking
the rule

we always try to keep
in journalism:

Don't become part of the story.

Was I still helping him

or was I just complicating
his life?

Just as we were in the final
stages of planning our trip,

violence spiked again
in Mogadishu.

Al Shabaab was still
a serious threat.

Yeah, I just wanted to,
to get details for the trip

and talk a little bit about
some safety concerns

and things too.

Because I don't know if you saw
the last bombing they had was...

- Yeah.
- Sahal was,

Sahal was pretty upset
about it. It was close -

kind of close to his house and
he was there with his kids.

And um, so He feels -

I think he feels really nervous
about you coming,

so I want us to like
talk through that

and make sure you're okay
with it

and he's okay with it
and all of that.

Announcement: Ladies and
Gentleman welcome to Mogadishu.

Bye. Bye bye.

Michelle: Mogadishu may not be
the conflict zone it once was.

But almost no foreigners stayed
far from the airport compound,

a type of green zone that
Somalis call Container City.

This is home sweet home, guys.

Security is mandatory.

As soon as we got there,

everyone seemed on edge
about Ismael's safety too.

He was high profile,
so that put him at risk.

And he had embarrassed
Al Shabaab

by escaping their custody

and telling the world
his story.

That made him a marked man.

Al Shabaab still had a presence
on the outskirts of the city

and many spies within it.

Attitude, you know.

If I give attitude back
it will be okay.

What is that?
What does that mean,

like a Mogadishu attitude?

Michelle: The Peace Hotel
compound was a little oasis of,

well, peace.

But outside,
the city was on edge.

There was a lockdown
and a curfew.

People were frustrated.

There had been too many
attacks.

Bombings and shootings in areas

that were supposed
to be secure.

Anger was building towards
the government.

Security of course
always brings comfort.

But my greatest sense of relief

came when I saw Sahal.

There were very few trips
I had ever made to Mogadishu

without his guidance.

And it felt even more crucial
and personal

for this trip with Ismael.

It didn't take long to get
a sense of the city's anger

and insecurity playing out
on the streets.

A rickshaw driver had been shot
dead by security forces.

Mere minutes later,
protests erupted

and then were violently
suppressed.

All of this was on the route
to where Ismael's family lived.

This is right now.

They're carrying the body
of the rickshaw driver

that was just killed.

It just makes me worry
for the city

when it happens that fast,
you know.

No.

- That's exciting?
- Yeah.

Tell me the last time
you saw her.

Where did you see her
the last time?

You must have missed her
a lot. - Mmm?

You must have missed her
a lot.

Go ahead.

- They're waiting now? Okay.
- Yes.

Our security escort
was ready to go.

But Ismael's family reunion
would have to wait.

Thank you.

His relatives lived outside
the city limits.

And the logistics
and safety concerns

made it too risky for him
to go there.

So for now we would just do
a small tour

so he could see the city
he left behind.

But all this security
to drive around?

The drama?

It was needed
because we were there.

Foreigners are high risk
targets.

And this is one of the
uncomfortable realities

of being a foreign
correspondent.

You only see the city
through this lens

and there's an unfair
power dynamic.

Ismael never travelled
like this as a kid.

And he wouldn't travel quite
like this when we left him.

The explosion was relatively
small.

A car was on fire
and traffic was diverted.

But this was on Mogadishu's
main thoroughfare,

one of its most secure streets.

Man: You have seen
a little bit.

As we filmed,

it was obvious how much
attention we drew.

We worried about putting Ismael
at any greater risk.

It was decided that
his family would meet

at the hotel instead.

And for security reasons
we wouldn't film.

So you just came
from visiting your family.

What was it like?

Well, tell, tell me about it.
Like what was it like?

- Go eat dinner?
- Yeah.

If that felt awkward to watch,
you're right.

It felt weird as we filmed it.

Almost staged.

Ismael had been so excited
about seeing his family again.

But he didn't seem
to want to talk about it.

I wondered, did we ruin the
homecoming by being there?

Or was he upset

because he felt he couldn't
safely move back here?

The day before
I left Mogadishu,

he asked us if I could
change his flight

because he wanted to stay much
longer than the two weeks

he and Sahal had agreed upon.

It was too risky to stay
with his family.

So he would rely on friends
in the city.

But he was so high profile.

And we worried news of his
return to Mogadishu

would travel fast.

Sahal is one of them most
careful planners I know.

And this change really
worried him.

What's going on?

Me too.

Well, we should do our last
interview with you

if you're running off,

if you want to get linked up
with Jim.

What's going on with you?!

No, it's like you're
a different person.

Even though I had less trauma
than what he went through,

I still, it took me time
to come to Mogadishu too.

So I was sort of being
protective.

He was a bit rebellious.

So you, you don't understand

what I went through in Norway.

I was the father figure.

I, you don't want to go.

The place is not ah,
as safe as you think.

Ah, all these people
that he might mix up

might not have his best
interest at heart.

Michelle: We've got to go
back in and we'll be back.

Okay, thanks a lot.

Where's your car?

Driving up.

Ismael, listen.
What do I know?

I know nothing, right?
I'm not Somali.

But everybody has told us
like you're -

everybody is telling us
they're worried about you.

So of course I'm going to
be worried about you too.

How long can you what?

All right.

Well, so I'm not gonna see you
for a bit now.

Are you going to Skype
like every week?

- Okay. Be careful.
- Yeah.

There was another world outside
the gates of the hotel,

one that's not reflected
in the news coverage.

I didn't get to see it much
either.

But this view of Mogadishu
is full of stunning beaches.

There's a vibrant culture
of food,

community, sports, poetry,
music and art.

I was really hoping this is
what Ismael would return to,

an authentic Mogadishu

where he could find some peace.

But as I left the city,

I felt nothing but dread.

A terrible combination
of feeling responsible

and helpless at the same time.

All right,
let me try him again.

I hope he answers.

Okay.

Let me try him again
because he was on -

he was on Facebook
three minutes ago

and Skype seven minutes ago.

Hm, he's ghosting me.

Whatever he does now,
it is up to him.

I mean nobody is responsible
for anybody's mistake

and ah, responsibility.

God made you -

all men responsible for your
deeds and what have you.

And I now believe

we give him a chance to,

regardless of what we hear now,

to live as a normal human
being.

Michelle: Ismael ended up
staying in Mogadishu

for three months.

And when he did reach out
it was mainly by text.

And it was clear something
was going on with him.

Dr. Anthony Feinstein
was a friend of Sahal's

and also a friend of mine.

He specialized in the field
of PTSD

and had helped many journalists
I knew

after they experienced trauma.

He had helped Sahal recover

in the months that followed
the car bombing

where he was nearly killed.

So we're doing this
documentary on um,

this great kid that I met
in Mogadishu in 2010.

I think I've told you his story
in the past.

Yeah.

So, this summer we went -
or in the spring,

we went and filmed him
in Norway.

And after that he had a
massive, massive breakdown.

And it was I think kind
of the first real breakdown,

were he fully broke down
since the incident.

Do you have-- I mean, you've
studied PTSD for years now,

- Mm-hmm.
- mainly with journalists.

But I think it's probably
similar to victims

- of terrorism as well.
- Yes.

Is that common to have that
kind of breakdown

so many years later? I'm trying
to understand from afar.

So it is uncommon
but it is recognized.

There is a category of, of PTSD

called the late onset,

which by definition it
has to be a gap of time,

they said arbitrarily
at six months

but it can be quite
a long time after that.

That initial trauma

can come back and...
with a vengeance

and show up as very typical
PTSD type symptoms

that might be triggered
by a particular event

that makes the person
recollect images

or memories of what they
endured.

So there could be a trigger
for it.

We now have this friendship.

I'm almost like an older
sibling to him.

And I actually don't know
how to deal with it.

It's, it's a weird position
to be in.

Because I still have sort
of the journalism backbone.

You know. And do you find that
with other journalists?

Are you finding that
in the field?

Well, you know, I think you
touch on something which is -

we're talking, it's really
relevant now which is,

you know, what are the
boundaries for journalists.

Because this was reinforced
with a study that we did.

I did a study back in 2017.

And what we found was something
called moral injury,

which is not a mental illness

and it's important
to stress that.

It's not a mental illness

and I hope it never becomes
a mental illness.

But what it refers
to is a sense

that as a person you've
lost your moral way

which is something that
you might have done

or that you failed to do.

Or you think that your news
organization

has lost its moral integrity

because your news managers
have made the wrong decision.

And many examples cropped up.

For example,
if I'm a journalist

and I'm on a beach in Greece

and there's nobody else there

and there's a boat bobbing
offshore

and the migrants can't swim,
what do I do?

Do I take the photograph?

Do I wade in to try
to save people

if they're calling for help?

If I do wade in,
who do I choose to save?

Do I choose to save the adult
or the child?

If there are multiple children
why did I choose that child

and not that child?

And so you end up with these
very uncomfortable choices

that you have to make.

And by, you know,
putting your humanity first,

which is clearly
what you've done,

your relationship
with your subject changes.

You know, you're no longer
just a journalist,

but you're something else.

Michelle: It had been eight
months

since the last time I saw
Ismael in Mogadishu.

He had agreed to come back
to Toronto

because he said he needed to
get something off his chest.

He said he hadn't been
completely truthful

about what happened to him.

He seemed a bit angry
and anxious.

Things with Ismael and Sahal
had been intense too.

They had long phone
conversations

once Ismael left Somalia.

Like me, Sahal was just trying
to figure out exactly

what was going on.

All we knew was that Ismael

had some sort of epiphany
in Mogadishu

and we were a part of it.

And we would understand better
when he told us the truth.

- Hey. How are you doing?
- What's up?

Yes, this is your coffee.

- Hello. Ismael.
- Hey.

I know it's a bit awkward
talking like this.

Because it's the first time
you guys have seen each other.

And we'll talk about this later
too when we do interviews.

Because I think we all
have to figure out

- Mm-hmm.
- kind of what happened.

You have a lot of kids.
I have none.

Is this what it feels like
to be a parent?

Aah, the other thing is ah,

everybody is different.

- None of them are alike.
- I know.

Because everyone is his own
human being, his own,

his own little cocoon
and world.

Well. But also he's like,
you know, what is he now? 26?

But it feels like he's gone
back to being 17, you know.

Like the trip back to Mogadishu

like brought him back
to being a kid.

- What I was trying to get
out of him was,

yes, in Mogadishu
there was a change.

There is a moment in the course
of these things to happen.

And hopefully before the end
of this week,

I hope to get more
than one percent.

Are we good to go?
Everybody is good to go?

It's going to be a long day.

Let's get rid of the day?
Let's get this over with? Okay.

Are you sick of telling
your story?

Nobody knows the whole story.

Okay. So should we--

Like I want you to tell me
in your own words--

I just need you--

Don't tell me what you think
I want to hear.

Mm-hmm.

All I want to hear
is the truth.

You told me a story that
you had to keep telling

over and over again,
because you had told it once.

What you told me when we met,

you've now told me
isn't the real story.

So, you wanted to keep going
with the film,

you wanted to correct
the record.

Please, tell me
what really happened?

As a journalist, if you write
something that's not true,

that's-that's a big deal to me.

You know, that doesn't -
that doesn't happen to me.

I have to - I have to correct
the record too.

So, I need you to help me
as well,

to tell me really what happened.

And it's, it's, you know,
I think over the years

you said it yourself.
You said it really well.

Like you've been sort
of telling me

what you think I want to hear

and what, you know, the Western
world wants to hear.

And I actually think you
were pretty smart in that.

And I think you were right.

Because the story you told
that I wrote about

and others have told afterwards

was really sympathetic.

And I still think
you're sympathetic.

But, but tell me -
correct the record.

Tell me,

tell me what happened in ah--

in 2009.

Are you okay
to get going again?

Okay. So, we left off
you were gonna -

you were gonna get into

around 2009.

Was it just one night
of robbing people?

- No.
- No?

You wanna keep talking? Okay.
Okay.

So, how did it stop?

Who did he call?

When we met you told me that
they tried to recruit you

and they took you to prison.
They took you to a stadium.

What other parts of
the original story

that you told weren't true?

You told, you told me
that after three months

you escaped their custody.
And I always remember--

I do.

Does it-does it feel-
does it feel better now?

Yeah?

Way more free.

When he told us the news

that this had all been a lie,

you would think that my first
reaction would be about,

you know, the journalism part,
the ethics.

And oh my God, I've been part
of telling a lie.

This is not - parts of the very
first story,

the story that I've been told

and other media has picked up
on, has not been true.

But-but it wasn't.

And, I felt, I felt guilty.

I think somewhere in me
I was like, okay,

this is a perfect story.

This is a perfect victim.
We've got good and evil.

Terrorists did this to him.
He's an innocent boy.

He wants to stay in school,
that's great.

And I don't mean great.
That's the -

that for journalism wise
I'm like,

this is a simple story to write.

What's happening in Somalia
right now

is, is really complicated.

How do you deal that?

And I think it is again
something that you and me,

we have to - I think you are
even worse than -

you are in a worse
position than I am

because ah, you wrote it

and all over the world it went.

And we took this story and ah,

yes, both of us didn't know.

And sometimes ah,

now you are no longer
with the newspaper,

how do you correct it?

Michelle: So for ten years

Ismael had to carry the burden
of telling a story

that he thought the world
wanted to hear.

And for that decade,
I happily told it.

I never shied away
from writing complicated

or controversial stories.

But there's no question

I loved his simple narrative.

A resilient, innocent kid

who defied a powerful,
terrorist group.

Who couldn't understand
that story?

But the thing is how did
this version of the story

really change anything?

He was still a teenager
trying to survive a war.

And he had his hand and foot
cut off by a terrorist group.

When he met me,

he didn't think that alone

would make him sympathetic
enough.

So he turned himself
into a perfect victim,

so it would be
the perfect story.

Because we all tell stories,

our own stories,
stories about others.

Some stories become part
of our official history

and can change the way
we look at the world.

Some stories can change
the way we look at ourselves.