This video from Turkey says about itself:
2 September 2015
The core of this story is a dream which I had last night. However, there is so much reality in it that it is not fiction in the narrow sense.
Stormy in the Mediterranean.
The tiny overloaded Libyan fishing boat is minutes from capsizing, drowning all Syrian, Libyan, Iraqi and Somali refugees aboard.
Then, suddenly, a Maltese coast guard ship which happened to be in the same part of the sea.
The refugees jump on board. However, there is Maryam Haddad. A fictional name, for reasons of privacy, like most names in this story.
The ardous journey from Syria has weakened ten-year-old Maryam with her headscarf on. She jumps, but falls into the merciless waves.
For the last time, she cries out for help.
Too late … but then, Maltese coast guard officer Peter Zammit jumps into the water, grabbing little Maryam.
‘Now they will both drown!’ one of Peter’s colleagues thinks. But another colleague throws a lifeline, saving Peter and Maryam.
There happened to be a photographer on the ship. Many TV stations, radio stations, newspapers and Internet sites reported on this rescue.
As I have proved before, these so-called ‘refugees’ are not refugees at all. They are cockroaches. Cockroaches are vermin which you should not leave alive. Peter Zammit, this ‘hero’ of the liberal media, is in fact a traitor to western values. He aided and abetted the towelhead invasion of Europe. Ten-year-old Maryam, looking so innocent on the liberal media photos, won’t be innocent in four years time. Then, she will breed ten or more Islamic terrorists, as we all know muzzies breed with the speed of rabbits.
The morning after the media publicity, Peter Zammit’s wife Rosie found her husband dead just outside the front door, dressed in his pyamas. A gun laying next to him.
A police inspector said: ‘This is either suicide, or foul play trying to make it look like suicide. Peter cannot be buried yet. We have to investigate’.
‘Suicide?’ Rosie exclaimed to the inspector. ‘Impossible! We were always happy together. I had told Peter how proud I was about what he had done to rescue that girl. I am expecting our first child. Peter looked forward so much to becoming a father. Yesterday night, before falling asleep, we had talked about how we would educate our child. We had agreed that if the child would be a girl, we would call her Maryam, after the Syrian girl whom Peter saved’.
A Maltese newspaper interviewed Peter’s older brother Cain. Cain looked much like Peter. Like Peter, he was a law enforcement officer: police, not coast guard. But that was about all these two had in common.
‘So, Peter is dead?’ Cain said. ‘Does not surprise me really. Maybe suicide as he finally realized that do-gooder saving of Muslim so-called ‘refugees’ basically is just aiding and abetting genocide of the white race. I read Ms Hopkins column, and she tells the truth. It is also possible that someone who was fed up with liberal commie faggots like Peter killed him’.
‘You call your brother a faggot’, the journalist said, ‘Do you have any proof that he was a homosexual?’
‘Well, proof … proof is a big word’, Cain said. ‘But I have suspected him all my life really. When we were teenagers, I asked him to help me shooting birds. But, no sir, not Peter. He said: ‘These birds have come such a long way to Malta, and still have such a long way to go. Let them live.’ No real man would ever say such a thing. Only a liberal commie sentimental sodomite like my goddamn own brother would say such a thing’.
When the police inspector read the interview, he thought he should ask his colleague Cain Zammit some questions.
As Cain entered the room, the inspector said: ‘Colleague Zammit, I have sad news. The DNA traces on the gun laying next to your murdered brother Peter match with your DNA’.
Cain Zammit face went very disturbed, ashen. Only for five seconds. Then, he composed himself. ‘Yes, I did kill that f-ing faggot commie liberal. Not only did he save that muzzie vermin from drowning. When he was still in the police like us, he arrested a man for killing a golden oriole. ‘Poaching‘, my goddamn so-called brother called that! As we both know, I would never arrest a man for such sportsmanship.
At midnight, I rang his doorbell. I was lucky that Islam lover woke up and opened the door, while his wife kept sleeping. The rest was easy.’
For the information of Cain Zammit and others: the Haddad family was Christian, not Muslim. The Middle Eastern custom of headscarves for women dates from the Christian Byzantine empire, before the rise of Islam.
Maryam Haddad’s parents asked the authorities: ‘Please, please allow us to attend the funeral of Peter Zammit, who saved the life of our little girl’.
The authorities replied: ‘You are in an asylum seekers camp. No one is allowed to leave that camp’.
Daoud Haddad cried for hours. Leyla Haddad cried for hours.