Wichita ? Nabil Seyam was held prisoner and used as a human shield before the start of the first Gulf War.

Now that Saddam Hussein is out of power, the Palestinian-American is seeking compensation for the hardships he endured as a former prisoner of the dictator’s military.

Seyam — now a leader of the Islamic Society of Wichita and the corporate director of health and safety for Coleman Co. — filed a $104 million federal lawsuit in April in Washington against Saddam Hussein and Iraq.

Steptoe & Johnson in Washington represent Seyam and 17 former prisoners of war from the U.S. military and CBS reporter Bob Simon. All of them spent time in Iraqi captivity during the Gulf War.

Seyam’s ordeal began after Iraq invaded Kuwait on Aug. 2, 1990.

Just four years earlier, Seyam had moved to Jabriya, Kuwait, with his family. Seyam had married Carrie Allen-Seyam, who is from Wichita, while he was an engineering student at Wichita State University in the early 1980s. They divorced in 2000.

In Kuwait, Seyam worked for Kuwait Metal Pipe Industries as a safety engineer. Carrie taught at an American school.

Carrie and their two children left for Wichita in June 1990 to visit her parents. She was six months pregnant and planned to return to Kuwait for the delivery.

But after the Iraqi invasion, she and the children stayed in the United States. Seyam, meanwhile, lost his job after the invasion and survived by selling eggs outside mosques after Friday prayers and televisions and VCRs from the back of his car.

In early October, Seyam and one of his brothers were stopped at one of the numerous checkpoints the Iraqis set up in Kuwait.

His brother produced a Jordanian passport and was later released. Seyam’s driver’s license revealed his U.S. citizenship.

Soldiers surrounded Seyam, and a lieutenant demanded he renounce his U.S. citizenship and condemn the Kuwaiti government or face captivity and torture. Seyam refused.

Iraqi soldiers bused Seyam and 24 other prisoners from Kuwait to the second-highest floor of a hotel in Baghdad.

He and the other prisoners would be the first to die if U.S. missiles hit the hotel, Seyam said. It was three months before the start of the Gulf War in January 1991. After 15 days in captivity, Seyam was let go.

The suit, Seyam contends, is not a far-fetched bid for Saddam’s money, but a measured response to what was an unwarranted attack on an innocent noncombatant.

“I was prejudged as a traitor and spy,” Seyam said, “but when I look back at what Saddam Hussein did to his people and government, he is like a chicken. He is the traitor.”

Similar suits have been filed by several hundred U.S. citizens whom Saddam did not allow out of Iraq and Kuwait after his forces invaded the small nation.

In similar cases, lawyers from defendant nations haven’t shown up for legal proceedings, said David Smyth of Steptoe & Johnson in Washington. The judge, however, can still render a decision.

Smyth said the cases are complicated by an executive orders from President Bush directing some of Iraq’s frozen assets be used in rebuilding.

Despite the challenges, Smyth was positive about the cases. “It’s not a shot in the dark,” he said. “Our chances are good. It’s always a long process.”