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The culture of torture
in the Maldives NSS: Victims tell their stories 11 Mar 2004
Abdulla Alexander In 1992, I was not yet 15 when the NSS took me in for riding a motorcycle without a licence and kept me with a bunch of drug abusers for 3 months. Then again in 1993 I was accused of robbery, which I denied. From midnight till dawn they beat me up until blood came out of my mouth and anus. When I did not confess, they kept me handcuffed at Dhoonidhoo for 3 months. I was then taken to Gaamaadhoo jail. Following the death of a girl inmate Sudhaa, they released many prisoners. I was amongst those who were released after being told that due to a lack of evidence, my case was being dismissed. After a week, I was summoned to the police station and told that there had been a mistake. I still had a few months to serve for some petty crimes I had committed while in prison. It ranged from breaking a plate to disobedience to breaking handcuffs. First I was exiled to Raa Atoll, Kandholhudhoo island and again later to Laamu atoll, Dhanbidhoo island. In 1997, I got a job with Galaxy Enterprises. The salary was pretty good. One day my sister phoned me at work and said there was a notice on our front door warning the public that I was a person on the run and wanted by the police. I was livid and went home, phoned the police station and told them off. They took the notice off the door. One night, I was talking to a friend and checking out the girls coming in and out of JS where there was a jaafaiy being attended by President Gayyoom. Suddenly a lot of police crowded in. Apparently the President’s car window had been smashed. They saw me standing around and immediately took me and a few others to the station. The female officer Azuma collected urine from me. Then we were sent home. Five nights later, I was summoned to the station and the police told me it was due to the car smashing incident and because my urine had tested positive for opiates. I denied it but they packed me off to jail. While there, I was brought to court for the apparently unfinished business of theft of 1993. Nothing was proved, so they sentenced me for 16 years and 4 months saying that another prisoner had given evidence against me. I asked the judge whether the laws had been changed because as far as I knew the evidence of a prisoner would not be acceptable against a free person. The judge told me that this was how he had been instructed to act. In 1998, the Gaamaadhoo prison was set on fire. Nine men and eight women prisoners set out to sea on a raft. We were soon picked up by the NSS coast guard. We told them we had set off because the jail was on fire and to protect the female prisoners. Soon we were taken, in groups of ten arms handcuffed behind our backs and laying face down on the deck of the boat, from Gaamaadhoo to Dhoonidhoo. Throughout the journey we were beaten over the head and on the legs by the NSS with their combat boots. When we got to Dhoonidhoo there was a 'welcome party' of police officers with batons in their hands and cigarettes in their mouths. We were dragged off the boat and the handcuffs were replaced with an Indian type of cuff holding our arms in front. We were forced to sit on a chair for 9 days and nights, and did not dare eat since it might trigger going to the toilet, which was agony. When we asked to go to the toilet they would force us to move with a front roll or side roll so that by the time we got to the lavatory we would have shat or pissed ourselves. They constantly beat us in front of Officer Suleiman who was in charge. We were told that the beatings had been prescribed by higher authorities - to keep us occupied without killing us. If we tried to block a beating they would make us bend over and chain us up. Mercury light was focused towards us throughout the night. On the ninth night, a written statement was brought to me and I signed it. I could not read it. I could not even keep my eyes open. It would not have made much of a difference anyway. There was no other way. I didn’t want to come out handicapped or deranged. In Maafushi prison: Shamaal was the warden and he was very kind. He treated us to the best on offer in Maafushi island, medically and otherwise. But he was soon transferred away from the jail and then Officer Fusfaru took over. Shamaal warned us against him and told us to be careful. On the day Fusfaru took charge, two of us were taken outside handcuffed in front. We had to run while they beat us from behind. Police officers Vikash and Jaufar blindfolded us with a rag soaked in kerosene. With a trimmer they shaved off our heads and beard so that the teeth of the trimmer perforated our skin. Then we were made to run blindfolded with our hands cuffed behind us in the coconut grove. They kept it up until 2am. When they released us, we fell down unconscious. When I gained consciousness, I had been handcuffed by the front around a coconut tree. Sewer water was poured over us. They pissed on us, poured honey, milk tea, sugar over us. A girl named Nilma too were going through similar torture. The next afternoon, two women officers were let loose on us while the men watched and enjoyed themselves. They made us do situps and dips. We had to run with them on our backs. Had to lick their boots. When we vomited, it came out black. They talked to us in filthy language and would kick us or beat us if we gave them an answer that was not suitable, which was always. We had to shout that we had sex with our mothers and fathers. It was as though blood oozed out of every pore. Police officers Farish, Gaabe and Fusfaru were there. We couldn’t eat, but if we vomited we had to eat it mixed with sand. When we were taken back to our cell we could not bend, and needed assistance to go to the toilet. We were still handcuffed. Later, I was transferred to a cell measuring 40 ft. by 80 ft. with a 104 people and only one toilet. If one inmate did something slightly provocative, all 104 of us would be punished. They would make us fight each other, masturbate with sand, do side rolls and front rolls naked. Police officer Faiz then came and it became worse. He told us that he wanted a disc from our backbone. On the night he arrived, 500 prisoners were taken outside, and shackled together in groups of ten. Handcuffed real tight. We had to do hard PT. If someone fell we had to drag him after us. It continued until 6 in the morning. Police officers such as Adam Hameed would rape young boys in prison. We would have to stand on a barrel with our hand up, in the middle of the afternoon. We would have to lay with our heads inside a sand dune. They would make us kneel and place their legs on either of our shoulders. For eight months I tried to be really good. Became really religious but even that was not allowed. They shaved off my beard. Once Faiz came and put a pillowcase over my head and beat me up. In 1999, we were accused of planning to escape and speaking against the government. 18 prisoners were taken outside and tortured on the beach and in the sea. Then they took us into a 4 ft. by 11 ft. cell and kept 18 of us there for 19 days. The floor was sand. We were handcuffed together in a sort of circle. They would throw salt water at us. We would piss ourselves. We dare eat properly for fear of having to use the toilet. Every night we were taken outside and beaten. They would make us lay face down and then throw another person down on top of us. They would beat us and then kick us into the sea. Policemen Sergeant Faiz, Maabadeyrigey Sergeant Mustag, Corporal Adnan, Ali Moonis, Hassan Rasheed (Thithi), Zipo, Medic Shifaz, Shahid, Ismail Amir, Rado, Shukoor, Haroun, Shahid Ali Maniku (Appa), was there. As they tortured, they would shout to each other to torture without killing. Once two young boys not yet 18 years old were brought in. They said they were dragged after the vessel in the sea along the way from Male’ to Maafushi. The officers would stub out their cigarettes on prisoners' penises. Some prisoners would be rolled around in a barrel. We would be hung and beaten. We would be submerged inside a barrel filled with water. The NSS would take away all our clothing and toiletries sent from home and replace them with cheap stuff. There was no one we could tell about our experiences. No one believed us. Our parents refused to believe us, even when we showed them the torture marks on our bodies. I personally showed people’s injuries to government officials but they would not do anything. A young boy’s ears bleeding with blood and pus from torture committed not 24 hours before, was shown to government officials but they said this was something they didn't want to know about. Home Ministry officials all know, but do nothing. Ahmed Fairish I was 15 years and going to Majeediyya School. One evening I was smoking out on the street when a group of people saw me and took me to school. I was kept there for a long time. They told me I needed to give a statement about smoking in public. Later the police came. They took me to the police station and accused me of abusing drugs which I denied. They collected my urine and then Corporal Haneefa told me to confess everything properly and I would be set free. I told her that I smoked cigarettes. She said that if that was the case I would not be in police custody. She did not beat me but at consistent intervals male officers would come in and beat me over the head. I would start crying and then they would take me outside. Again it would repeat itself and then I thought I would confess to anything. They asked me questions regarding my apparent drug use and I lied and told them I had taken brown sugar, that it was a powder and I could not remember the colour, and that I had sniffed it at the Henveiru seawall. Corporal Haneefa informed me that my urine test had come out positive. She also said that since I was a drug user I would also have sold some. So I agreed and admitted to that too. She also asked me to whom I sold it and I said it was to the same group of people who had taken me to school that day. I had to say someone’s name and they were the first group I could think of. I had been interrogated for more than 24 hours before I confessed. I was tired and when the written confession was given to me I did not feel like reading it. I just signed. I had no idea they had brought changes to the statement, for example how brown sugar is actually used. This was different to what I had said and a complete hoax, since I had no idea how it even looked like. I just said anything that came to mind from what information I had heard regarding drugs. I was than told that I could not be released since I was a drug addict and I had to leave for Gaamaadhoo Island jail. I was taken there and kept at the police barracks until the Gaamaadhoo jail was set on fire. I was then transferred home. At the Children’s Court I said that I had not done anything, but had confessed due to police pressure under interrogation. The judge closed the case, saying that if there was no problem from me for five years the case would be dismissed. I had already been in jail for 4 months and 10 days so I was expelled from school and I had to join another school. Before I had attended a month of school I was summoned to the High Court. I was informed that it was regarding a pending case the State wanted to prosecute against me and that I had to sign in with the authorities every working day and that I was under ban and my movements was being restricted to Male’. I reported to the authorities without fail. One day I was taken to be questioned by the judge. I told them everything. They even recorded the statement. On another day they made me read it and then I signed it. In spite of all that, they sentenced me to 25 years imprisonment. They waited till I was 16 years old and then they took me to jail. I became depressed. One day I threw my plate of food out of the cell. The man on duty told me to clean it up but I refused. He summoned a police officer, Ali Moonis. I still refused. Then I was taken out and put inside a tiny cell. Under solitary confinement I became more depressed. Again I started throwing out the food. So I was taken out to the beach in the middle of the night. Around 14 police officers were waiting for me. I was tortured on the beach. Then I was thrown into the sea where 2 police officers, Ali Moonis and Nasheed pushed me under water and held me until I was taking in salt water in my panic. Again I was dragged ashore and beaten and the cycle continued until I lost consciousness. I woke up in solitary confinement. The next night when they came I told them that I would not go. But they tied a bed sheet around my neck and dragged me out to the beach, beating me all the time. Again they tortured me and brought me back in a barrow and kept me handcuffed. The next night again I was taken out and tortured in a barrow then taken out to the beach and kicked about with their combat boots. One day in broad daylight, I was taken outside and beaten with a tree branch. Even after they had taken me to the doctor, on the way back they kept beating me up. Sometimes they would tie me up to a coconut tree stark naked in broad daylight and at times hose me down with a high pressure water hose. They would keep me in solitary confinement stark naked. Another prisoner told me that I had been continuously tortured while in solitary confinement for 27 days. My statement was also taken by people from the Department of Corrections, but I never heard anything from them. Police officers Ali Moonis, Shifaz, Shahid, Moosa Haroun and Saudhullah were some of the NSS people who tortured me. Blood came out of my anus. I was constantly depressed. One day I was reading the Holy Quran when two people came and ordered me outside. I refused. They kicked me in the back and beat me up with a bucket over my head. These men tortured inmates constantly and consistently only because they are given the authority to do so. Hassan Rasheed In 1998, I was transferred to Maafushi jail after Gaamaadhoo jail was set on fire. After that the torture began officially. Apparently the police at Maafushi had been instructed to put down any rebellion by whatever method they needed to use. When Shamaal was in charge things were better but he left quite soon. Then came Fusfaru. He revelled in torture and had his men conduct it systematically. We could see people handcuffed to coconut trees and sewer water or sugar being poured over them. Sometimes, every ten yards apart, all the palm trees were occupied by inmates undergoing various forms of torture. I saw a semi-nude girl with leaves stuck onto her body tied to a post in the middle of the cage where they keep goats. The goats were feeding off her. They would sometimes keep a person handcuffed to a coconut tree for lengths of time, come rain or shine. For every little incident people would be harassed and tortured at Maafushi. One night some of my friends and I got chatting casually going over a fantasy escape plan. It was nothing serious just our imagination working over-time due to our restricted condition. The police officer on duty heard us speaking and immediately contacted the others over his walkie-talkie. A large force of around 40 police officers in combat fatigues arrived carrying iron rods and pipes. My friend and I were handcuffed to the front around a coconut tree for 24 hours. Then our arms were twisted back and we were again handcuffed around the tree for 3 days. For meals we were released for 10 minutes. This went on for a week. There was one officer, Cambo, who tried to intervene on our behalf. There were a lot of confrontations between Fusfaru and Cambo. Fusfaru soon had him fired after complaining to the Defence Ministry about him. Then came Faiz. He was a psycho case. I was taken to the beach one moonlit night. Faiz was sitting on a chair. I had to kneel before him and he placed both feet on either of my shoulders, jiggling his legs from side to side. He told me to confess that I had made escape plans and told me to sign a written confession. I refused to do it. Then the beatings came. Police officers Ashraf, Big Hussain, and Sato were among the 12 or so men there. I could not breathe, and when I fell down they would jump and land with excruciating force upon my back. Faiz would ask whether I wanted my back bone, or to live in peace without trouble. Then I was forced to swim to the deep sea, and wade in one spot. Afterwards I was kept in the cold wind. Then beaten over and over again. I pleaded with them but they would not stop. Then Faiz warned that I could go missing. They could dig a hole and dump me in it and say I had been trying to escape and had now gone missing. I got really scared. I could no longer bare it and agreed to sign the statement they gave me. Once a bathroom door had been broken and everyone in that block were taken outside, handcuffed to one another and forced to run. If one person fell down they would beat everyone with their batons. At one time, 16 people handcuffed together were put in a cell measuring around 4 ft. by 12 ft. for four days. There was nothing to be done. Just to embrace misery as our closest friend. Embrace it. Survive and try to get out while one is still alive. Shammi I was arrested and accused of abusing drugs with a number of people. I denied it. So they kept me at Dhoonidhoo Island, a police detention and investigation centre, for 29 days. They brought me to Male’ because pus was coming from my penis. They took me upstairs at the Police Headquarters. Police officers, Ibrahim Latheef and Ismail Abdul Hameed told me that I could be released, but on the condition that I provide the details regarding the drug habits of some of my friends. I agreed and they released me. A few days later, police officer Ismail Abdul Hameed met and asked me about operating as an informer. I told him that I was a civilian (non-NSS). I grew up and lived in this neighbourhood and if I betrayed these people I would be considered a very bad person. But if the NSS conducted the raid and arrested them it would just be doing their duty. I did not have a uniform, it was not my duty and I could not do it. The NSS started stalking me. One night the police came after me while a friend and I were out on a motorbike ride. During the search and arrest, my shin got badly cut. They did not find anything incriminating on me but they still took me into police custody. They said that I had tricked them once, but this time I had to tell them everything - why I had gone to India, what drugs I had obtained and sold. I told them I had gone to India for a hemorrhoids operation and I had the documents to prove it. Police officer Ibrahim Latheef threw a file at me and told me that this time I would have to admit to everything. Two vans, 12 policemen in one and 6 in the other, took me home around 2am. They woke everyone up and searched the whole house, but did not find anything. They took my brother to the station accusing him of giving someone some hash oil mix. I was handcuffed and put inside another van. They took me for a ride. They constantly hit me over the head and pulled my hair. They then took me back to the police station and told me to give a urine sample. I couldn’t. Sarangu Shameema’s police officer son told me that they would make me urinate even if they had to beat my genitals to do so. Then they put me on a launch and took me to Dhoonidhoo. They told the warden Jaleel not to feed me or give me water until I gave urine. I was put in a cell measuring around 7 ft. by 6 ft. It was constructed of tin sheets. They would constantly beat upon the tin walls to prevent me from sleeping. For four days they refused to feed me. On the afternoon of the fourth day they fed me. That night, nine police officers came in civilian clothes and said they would make me confess. If I did, they promised to treat me well. I denied their accusations. Then the beating began. They took turns beating me until dawn broke. Vaththeeni hit me on my genitals. I couldn’t pass urine after they had beaten me. I told the warden I needed to see a doctor but he said the orders were to keep me until I admitted everything. After a week I was shown to a doctor and given some tests to do but was told that after I admitted everything, only then would the tests be conducted. The next night the investigation force came. They said that every 15 minutes, my punishment would increase, and that they would make me confess. I was handcuffed. One officer at a time beat me. Then I was cuffed one arm to one leg. One officer pulled me along the coral beach while another beat me from behind. I told them I would confess, and to give me some water. They gave me cool water and I told them that I had previously told them the truth. They shouted for me to be brought out and killed. Then I lost consciousness. I woke up on the floor of the investigation room. They told me there were more punishments to make me confess. They brought a heavy wood beam around 5 ft. long. Two men held the beam to the back of my knees. The man at the back would push on my shoulders and bring his knee down on my lower back making my knees buckle and fall upon the beam. The man in front would stand on my feet and the man at the back would then jump upon my back. The third time around I lost consciousness. At daybreak I was again cuffed one leg to one arm and put in a cell. Police officers Jaleel, Ismail Abdul Hameed and Latheef would come every night. I couldn’t bend or sit properly. My whole body was bruised from being dragged on the coral beach. One side of my body felt completely numb. One eye would not close. My arm felt paralysed. I told the warden and suddenly everything changed. I was taken to the doctor, given physiotherapy and medicine. After 16 days they again came with a written confession and told me Brigadier Adam Zahir wanted me to sign it. I refused. I was once again taken to Dhoonidhoo Island and tortured with the angle, fuh kafa engalah negee. That was when I signed the confession. I was transferred home. At the hearing my lawyer was not present. When I protested, the judge told me that the Ministry of Defence had informed him to proceed and I was sentenced without trial for 13 years and 3 months imprisonment. In jail a girl who was in the cell next to mine was killed through incompetence. There was something wrong with her but they ignored it. Her name was Sudhaa. At night I still feel a creeping numbness. I cannot get up by myself after waking up from sleep. Blood would be coming from my penis. Pus would come from my anus. |
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Maldives Culture is an independent internet magazine of Maldive cultural issues.
Editors and translators: Michael O'Shea and Fareesha Abdulla, Australia
We invite contributions from Maldivians and others interested in Maldives.
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