Until 2014, Abdullah Shrem was a beekeeper in Iraq. Then Islamic State forces arrived, announcing their terror in symbols daubed on the doorways of the homes they raided: "They wrote the letter Y on our homes and on our stores and built a barrier like the Berlin Wall N for the Christians, and Y for the Yazidis. S for the Sunnis, and Sh for the Shi'ites," Shrem recalls. The Yazidis met the worst fate: men were marched into mass graves and shot, while women were separated " young from old, mothers from children, wives from virgins. The younger were taken to a "marketplace" to be sold as sex slaves or sabaya; the older were killed or sold as domestic slaves. Shrem's response was extraordinary: he left beekeeping to create a network of rescuers " modelled on the female-led fortress of the beehive " who would return the kidnapped women to their families. "I cultivated a hive of transporters and smugglers from both sexes to save our queens," he tells Dunya Mikhail, an American-Iraqi journalist, whose book is centred on the women Shrem rescues. The women form the book's heart. Their stories, however courageous, read like a litany of horrors, some painfully detailed. What is striking is the unaugmented record of experiences, transcribed in first-person testimonies and knitted together with Shrem's words. The multiplicity of voices creates a verbatim record " a chorus of experience " rather than following the ... narrative arc of heroic exceptionalism.