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In
2002-2003, Elsa Chyrum, an Eritrean human rights
activist, was actively involved in assisting Eritreans
who were held in captivity in Malta. Due to her efforts
(and other human rights activists), many Eritreans were spared
deportation to Eritrea. The following testimony was
provided to her by those who, despite the appeals of many
human rights organizations and contrary to the UNHCR charter,
were deported to Eritrea in 2002. The testimony,
provided by Elsa, is published
in Tigrigna. Here below is Awate's translation into
English, as literal as possible. For ease of reading we
have inserted sub-headings. We ask everyone to ensure that
every human rights organization in the world receives a
copy.
On the 29th of September 2002, at 9:00 AM, a
plane carrying nearly 55 individuals who were deported from
Malta
landed at Asmara airport. Handcuffed and each
one of us watched over by two guards (Special Force), we
started untying ourselves when we landed. Save for plainclothes
security and immigration officers, there were no travelers at
the airport. It
is our observation that there wasn?t even airport staff or
crew there.
A dramatic development we observed while the plane was
landing was that the airport was surrounded by armed
soldiers. Once
the plane landed and took off, the plainclothes security
officers ordered us to ?move!? In the lobby area, we
registered our names and addresses and then stepped outside
and walked to the military bus that was waiting for us. The armed soldiers
escorting us ordered: ?keep your heads down! Do not talk to
one another! Anyone who is caught moving one?s head?.you will
see!? We passed
though the heart of Asmara, this same city that we shed blood
and sweat for, now with our head bent, like prisoners of war,
as we headed to our destination.
Adi Abeyto (Adi Abeito)
Once in Adi Abeyto, we disembarked. We were thoroughly
searched and ordered to empty out our belongings and take off
our shoes.
Everything except for what we were wearing was
confiscated. We
entered the grain storage area. Looking up, all you
see is corrugated tin roof; and looking down, the ground. Nearby the exit (but
inside the storage area) is a thawed off metal drum. To be used for
urination.
After a while, soldiers came in and gave us each two
pieces of bread and canned food (military rations) as well as
a 25 litre water container, and left. When we asked for a
sharp object to open the cans, we were told ?improvise!? This may have been a
strange response to those among us who were raised in
Sudan or
Libya or were
exiled for long; but for us rejectionists, it wasn?t
confusing: it was the devil we know. Canned food can be
opened if you grind it on the ground, as we demonstrated to
the others.
For the first few days, most of us ate hardly
anything.
Eventually, though, we helped ourselves to the
unsightly food--if nothing else, to avoid starvation. What followed is what
we dreaded most: ?investigation.? Each one is called out
by name and, individually, led to another room,
handcuffed. Some
of the questions we were asked:
1.
How did you get out of Eritrea?
2.
Who helped you?
3.
Who gave you moving
permit?
4.
Did your family know? Did they help
you?
5.
While in Malta, which
opposition groups did you meet
with?
6.
Who was organizing you? And other
questions.
If you are unable to give them the answers they like to
hear, you are beaten.
Meanwhile, the deportations from Malta continued and
we were joined by the elderly, children, and women?including
pregnant women and those who had delivered babies
recently. We
numbered over 230.
For nearly 13 days, neither one of us had bed sheets or
blankets and the weather was extremely cold. We slept with our
heads virtually tucked in one another?s arm pits. After nearly 13 days,
we were each given a bed sheet.
We didn?t bathe for nearly a month. We were so filthy that
our bodies and clothing were covered by lice. The first order of
duty in the morning was to take one?s clothes off and to kill
the lice. To
those who considered this lacking in decorum some would tease
them: ?so-and-so?s lice will only die of old age.? While going through
this dispiriting situation, some of the prisoners hatched an
escape and 27 of them prepared a plan.
We used to be escorted, barefoot, to a field 100 meters
outside to relieve ourselves. The plan was to
overpower the guards?using stones and the element of
surprise?and to escape.
However, the deal you make at the marketplace is not
what your mother ordered you to make but what the free market
orders [an Eritrean expression] and, at the zero hour, they
[the soldiers] opened fire and one of our brothers,
Robel, was shot at his calf and the other 26 were
arrested by a brigade that was in the area. They were escorted
back, with rocks and sticks landing on their back. Poor Robel! He kept yelling, ?How
about me? Help me, am I not your brother?? and the only answer
he got was, ?Die!?
He bled to death.
As for the rest, they were isolated for three days and
when they could no longer endure the beating, they disclosed
that the person who hatched the plan was Ermias Tsegai
and they were removed from their isolation and returned to
us. As for
Ermias, until the night we were moved to Dahlak, he was in
solitary confinement with his hands and legs cuffed in heavy
chains.
The Road To Massawa
Nearly a month later, those who were of advanced age
and the women were separated from us. Later, we learned that
they were discharged.
In December 15, 2002, at 4:00 AM, after 2 months and 15
days in Adi Abeyto, we were loaded on big cargo vehicles and
driven to destination unknown. As usual, we were
ordered to keep our heads down as we drove through the
city. The truck
that we were loaded on resembles ?N-3? [Ene-Tre, Italian
trucks common in Eritrea]. On this truck, and a
cargo car it pulls, accompanied by nearly 40 armed soldiers,
we sat on top of one another, crammed, with our chin on our
knees, and with no breathing room. And the journey
resumed. Once we got to the Arbo Rebue [Asmara
outskirt, East], we had an inkling of where we were headed:
and we murmured to one another that we must be headed to
Asab, Tio or
Gelalo.
Due to overcrowding, hunger, suffocation, many of us
felt nauseated; since leaning over the
truck was not permitted, the only alternative was to vomit
over whoever is in front of you or on any container. At that time, there
was nobody who did not wish that the vehicle would just skid
over the cliffs.
It was a truly horrifying 3-hour journey and once in
Massawa, we, supporting our compatriots who had lost
consciousness, headed to the "PC"-like war ships that were
awaiting us. And
without taking a break, we resumed our
journey.
The Journey To Dahlak
After a little while, Ermias Wedi German
attempted to escape by jumping over to the sea. But the guards
were watching and he did not succeed: they caught him and he
was brought back to the ship. Somewhere in the middle
of the sea, another brother, Walta Haile, tied his
hands and legs with a rope and, in a suicide attempt, jumped
overboard.
However, he too was detected and the guards were able
to retrieve him.
But he must have hit something because his face was
drenched in blood.
After about two hours, the ship came to harbor. We were told
?disembark? and it was then that we knew that our final
destination was Dahlak Island. The supervisors came
after we were ordered to sit down in a procession. ?Traitors!? they
bellowed, ?Eritrea has given
birth to garbage!? Some of our guards approached the
supervisor and leaning over close to his ears, disclosed that
somebody had attempted suicide and that they had saved him. We
heard him say, ?Why didn?t you let him! Why didn?t you let him
die!?
Once we were at our shelters, Ermias Wedi German
was held in ?helicopter? [abdomen on the ground, legs and
hands tied behind the back] for 24 hours. [See artist
illustration of ?helicopter?] We could not endure
the intense heat of Dahlak [33 Celsius, 95 Fahrenheit in
December] given that we had just arrived from Adi Abeito [0
Celsius, 34 Fahrenheit in December.] Our shelter was grain
storage warehouses constructed during the Derg era: corrugated
tin roofs and dirt floor. In the front and the
back, there are windows, but they remained closed, and no air
could breeze in.
There were nearly 110 of us in this warehouse; each one
had space of 60 centimeters. Our forefathers say,
?may your burial ground not be undersized.?
?Bitterer Than The Bile Of An
Elephant?
What we endured there is bitterer than the bile of an
elephant [an Eritrean expression to describe something
intolerably bitter] and even if one were to use the sky as a
writing board, it would not suffice. But for illustration
purposes: food and water was inadequate. There was insufficient
medical treatment. One is allowed to
go to the bathroom no more than twice a day. But who can count the
mistreatment?
But the most bitter of all is not knowing your
verdict. Your
life is monotonous and repetitious. At 6:00 AM, you
wake up to go to relieve yourself. Around noon, you have
a meal, who knows whether it is breakfast or lunch. Around three or
four you have dinner.
Then you go out to relieve yourself. End.
You eat the same food, without change, for months. Two of you share a
25-liter water can to wash your body your clothes every month,
at best.
The drinking water was either rusty or infested with
insects and we have developed all kinds of health
problems. If you
so much as look out the window, you will receive military
discipline and beatings.
Nobody is allowed to pray, to supplicate or to read the
Bible or the Koran.
If you disobey, you will receive the helicopter
treatment. Every
day, it was customary to see someone who was being given the
helicopter punishment.
Some sympathetic guards told us that they had been
forewarned, ?Members of the G-15 and those who want to sell
out the country are coming. Do not communicate with them in
any manner but by the stick.?
The prisoners that were already in Dahlak when we
arrived number around 130. And after we arrived,
others were brought in: they include those caught trying to
cross the border, ?Adi S-Heil? residents who were protesting
the distribution of their land to others; the elderly and
those of advancing age; and 12 women who were there for a
variety of reasons.
In total, there were around 900 prisoners
there.
As we all know, Dahlak is an island, surrounded by the
sea, impossible to escape from. Still, those who have
given up [the will to live], try to escape. For example: Ermias
(Wedi Germen) and Goitom escaped but were captured
after a week.
They were then beaten severely, and given the
helicopter treatment for 23 days. Once again, Ermias and
Goitom attempted another escape, were captured after two days,
and this time given the helicopter treatment for 55
days.
Among us, there were those who, due to serious
illnesses, were in agonizing pain, but nobody paid any
attention to them.
There were two individuals who were suffering
from trauma and had lost their mind: Fouad and
Merhawi.
After eight months and two weeks of this treatment,
they separated those of us civilians to dry-land prisons;
those who stayed there were in a bad situation. From the confinement,
their bodies are almost numb and they suffer from
illnesses. A
certain Mussie (Amche), having endured a long period of
pain and medical negligence, died in the Dahlak prison in
August 2003. We
hear that others were and are suffering from serious
illnesses.
And what for is all this punishment? Solely because
we demanded justice.
Related
Stories
Report
on AI protest of 2002
deportations
Report
on Eritreans, Deported From Libya, Who Hijacked Plane and
diverted it to Sudan
The
Infamous Adi Abeito Prison: A
Testimonial
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