He soon ran out of food, there was no electricity or water. He rationed his remaining water and eventually took to drinking from the toilet. On the fourth day the building across the street from him collapsed and the Libyan airforce started bombing the city. His hunger was growing with every hour. He started eating cockroaches and worms.

Twelve days into his ordeal Moustapha called him from his apartment on the other side of town. He told him they had to get to Coach Ahmed’s flat a few blocks away and he would get him out of the country. It was a short distance, but if you haven’t eaten for a week and you’re in a war zone it becomes slightly trickier. He struggled down the stairs and into the street. He bumped into the kids with the AK47s and they held him up and got him where he needed to be.

Mr Ahmed said he could save them. It would mean a six-hour drive through the desert to Egypt. Ahmed had tried the same thing for a Cameroonian footballer days earlier but the footballer had panicked at a check point and ran. He was gunned down in cold blood.

The journey took 12 hours and they all had to face physical violence and the business end of rifles at all eight check points they crossed, but they made it.

Alex is now playing basketball in the UK for the Wolverhampton Wolves but his emotional scars are still well and truly open. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and finds it hard to be around people for any length of time and has a tendency to snap. He’s only really relaxed when he’s playing basketball, so at least he’s got that.

He knows he was one of the lucky ones though. Many didn’t survive. The moral of the story? Don’t play sports for tyrants.

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