Hussein al-Taakhi, Iraq “No one can heal the memories of the 48 days I spent in that prison”

I’m a 39-year-old former prisoner of the al-Jamiyat police station in Basra, and have been severely tortured for crimes that I did not commit. I have also been a witness to some of the terrible treatment prisoners have had to suffer, and have seen many prisoners killed.

I’m a Shi’ite and have lived peacefully in Basra for more than 20 years raising my four sons aged 12, 15, 16 and 18 years. I’ve worked hard to be able to feed them.

Things changed two months ago when members of a militia [armed Shi’ite group] and police officers raided my home and arrested me, accusing me of being a supporter of the insurgents [the armed groups fighting the US forces and the Iraqi government].

I am sure they knew I was not an insurgent, but the real reason for arresting me was that I’m from a tribe which is against local militias, and I was one of the dozens of men arrested as revenge on our tribe.

When I reached the prison I knew that if someone didn’t help me, I would die because I would not be able to survive being tortured.

The day I arrived at the prison they [police officers] took me away for interrogation. I have never felt as humiliated in my life as I did on that day.

The police officers stripped me naked and started to shout at me; they hit me on the face and kicked me in the stomach with their boots. Later they started to put out their cigarettes on my body, especially on my arms and legs.

They then forgot all about me for two days, leaving me in a cell with 15 other prisoners. We had to take turns to sleep on the bare floor because the space was too small for everybody to lie down at the same time.

After two days, I was again called for interrogation. That was the most terrible day of all my 48 days in prison. In addition to beating me, two officers tried to rape me, and when I resisted they started to use an electrical device until I lost consciousness.

Everyday they told me that if I didn’t identify the people who were against the militia groups in Basra, they were going to hang me or shoot me with all the bullets they had.

I was so scared, especially as two other men who’d also been threatened with death, failed to return to the cell after interrogation. That time I was sure that my last day in this world was near.

Torturing us amused our captors. They enjoyed it. They would laugh at us while torturing us with electric devices, or by beating or hitting us with cables and pieces of wood, or kicking us with their boots. When they had finished the torture, they would often return us to our cells without medical treatment. Two people died from their wounds inflicted during the torture.

I do not know exactly how many prisoners were held at the police station, but during my 48 days there I must have seen over a hundred faces.

During a raid by British forces on our facility on Monday, panic spread among the prisoners who didn’t know what was happening, until someone called for us saying that someone was there to help us. As luck would have it, one of the Iraqi soldiers who was with the British troops was a relative of mine and helped me to escape.

Today I’m with my family, but I will be leaving later today to the capital before another crazy group arrests me again. My wife is taking care of my wounds which I sustained as a result of torture, but no one can heal the memories of those terrible 48 days in that prison.”

as/sm/ar/jm