ABHA: Zamil, a 55-year-old Saudi, has turned his hobby of hunting birds into a profession of executing criminals by gunfire.

Being an executioner has been a wish of his for a long time. Then eight years ago he had the opportunity to express his professional aspiration to Hussain bin Zalfah, the governor of Bisha, about 115 km east of Baha, in the Asir province.

The governor agreed to help him, and Zamil was on his way.

He moved from nearby Asabt Al-Alaya, where he was working as a government employee, and fulfilled his lifelong dream.

Zamil, who has an elementary school education, said that before he carried out his first execution he went to Riyadh for sword training and to attend the beheading of three criminals in the country’s capital. But having never touched a sword, Zamil declined to use it to execute criminals and became a one-man firing squad in Bisha.

“I fire bullets at the heart from the back of the criminal to make sure he or she dies quickly without prolonging the pain,” he said. “I have executed two women: an Indonesian maid who killed her employer and a Saudi housewife who killed her husband.”

He said his first job was the execution of three people who were found guilty of abducting and murdering a child.

While the traditional form of execution in the Kingdom is public beheading, other forms of capital punishment are permitted in Shariah.

“Shariah does not prevent the use of the gun in place of the traditional sword,” said Sheikh Muhammad Al-Nujaimi, a scholar. “The differences among the ulema in this respect have no root in the Shariah.”

Al-Nujaimi, however, said death by hanging or by electric chairs is against the principles of Shariah because these may prolong the agony and pain.

Being an executioner is a part-time job in the Kingdom, and Zamil still retains his main job escorting the provincial governor on his trips in the region and accompanying him during his councils.

Zamil says he receives SR4,000 for each criminal he puts to death. “Before it was SR3,000, but the Interior Ministry recently increased the amount to SR4,000,” he added.

There are no special requirements for this position beyond an aptitude for using a rifle or a sword.

When asked what he does before executing convicted criminals, Zamil said he prays two raka’as and recites the Qur’an — as he does every morning — while he waits for the car.

After arriving at the site of execution, “we wait there until the charge sheet and the court verdict sentencing the convict to capital punishment are read out. We give some time for any pardon that might stop the execution. When there is none, the officer gives me a signal to do my job,” said Zamil.

He said one day he waited for three hours as the spectators were imploring the family of the murder victim to forgive the condemned man. It is common for executioners to wait for any last-minute reprieve. In this case, despite the prolonged wait, there was no reprieve and the execution took place.

Zamil said his family was angry with him after his first execution, but over time they got used to his freelance career. “I lead a normal social life among my relatives and other members of society,” he added.

When asked how many people he has executed in his eight-year career, Zamil demurs, saying he doesn’t recall.

Zamil said he was encouraging his 15-year-old son to be an executioner after noticing the boy’s disposition.