Part 17: A first-hand account of life in detention in Singapore’s draconian ISA

A narrative about injustice: "You know, she is a radical. Now there is talk to arrest her.” ISD threatened to arrest my wife.

A continuation of Zulfikar’s account of life under Singapore’s ISA

A few days later, I was brought to meet Chang.

“You know, I told my boss that you are good. I told him you are honest. See” he gestured as though showing a piece of paper to his boss, “he is telling the truth. He admit everything.”

I waited for his punchline.

“My boss said, if he is so good, get him to sign a statutory declaration” Chang delivered. So that was what he wanted.

I figured that he wanted a statutory declaration so that they could release it to the media. From what I understand, they were not allowed to release ISD statements to the public without political clearance.

“I am trying to help you. You know, this is good for you. Next time, I teach you something better. You go to a magistrate and tell him you are guilty and open for whatever punishment. That will help you.”

Right. It did not matter anyway.

“Ok” I deadpanned

As Chang was selling his story, Tim entered the room with a thick brown folder. He threw the folder on the metal desk.

“You are going to sign a statutory declaration. Everyone sign it. You will sign it” he ordered.

So, I thought, it was not because he wanted to help me. Everyone was supposed to sign it.

Tim told me to go through the statements that I would affirm in front of a Commissioner of Oaths. These were the police statements, including the false confessions.

I detested those statements.

Then I noticed that Tim had tried to slip in one crucial paragraph. It was the statement that he forced me to sign that said I supported ISIS and AlQaeda and their vision for a global caliphate. (Read here)

I remembered how I hated being forced to sign that statement and how Tim finally allowed a compromise that said I disagreed with their actions but supported their vision. For the statutory declaration, even the compromise was removed.

They said I supported ISIS and AlQaeda and their vision of a global Caliphate.

I pointed it out to Tim and said it did not reflect the statement I signed. Tim became angry again.

“You are a liar! You are lying!” he shouted. He accused me of trying to change the statements.

“Check the original statement.”

Tim refused. He kept shouting that I was lying. Around 20-30 minutes later, he finally retrieved the original statement that proved that I was right.

He retyped the statutory declaration paragraph. But even as he did, he kept shouting that I was lying.

“The original statement showed what I said is true” I told him. It did not matter. He kept going that I was trying to change what I signed.

It did not make sense. The only explanation, was that the ISD wanted to have a statement where I said unequivocally that I supported ISIS and AlQaeda. They probably hoped I did not catch on.

I was brought to the court.

When I was told that I would be going to court, I had hoped to see the outside world. Maybe travel in a car or a van. I would get to see Singapore. During the trip from the Tuas checkpoint to Onraet Rd, I did not really get to enjoy seeing Singapore since Tim was speaking the whole time. And the last month, I had either been enclosed in small rooms or blindfolded. I looked forward to the trip.

About an hour before I was supposed to leave, an ISD warden came to my cell and gave me a purple jumpsuit.

“Take everything off. Don’t wear shorts inside. Put this on.”

It was a bright purple, thick Teletubby-like jumpsuit with the word “Detainee” printed in large bold letters on several places.

A few minutes later, I was handcuffed behind my back and with the ankle cuffs, chain and beanie, was escorted by the Gurkha officers to the medical officer’s room. Anderson, the nurse, took my blood pressure and Oximeter readings. I was then taken to the ground floor. Instead of turning left after coming out from the lift to go to the family visit room, we went straight, past two more heavy doors.

All the doors in the detention centre were centrally controlled. For each section, only one door could open at a time. If any door was not properly closed, the system did not allow for another to be opened.

I was brought to a covered carpark (I found out it was a covered carpark 4 years later). Right before stepping on to the carpark, I was stopped and a heavy GPS tracker was fixed around my ankle. I was then told to move forward again.

The moment I took that one step down onto the carpark, I felt the change in atmosphere. It was heated and smokey.

Other Gurkha officers (that I later discovered were plainclothes) took over. Both sets of officers did a hand off with the new group telling me to rest my forehead against the wall and patted me down again. I was then turned around and made to take a few steps forward.

Then it was up a set of mobile metal steps. At the top, I was told to lower my head and step into a truck. The officers made me move sideways and finally sat me at a long bench before fixing the seat belt around my waist.

It was totally dark. I lifted my head to catch a peak from below the hood.

There I was, in a bright purple jumpsuit, with a GPS tracker, ankle and handcuffed, a chain running between both sets of cuffs, blindfolded and even sounds were muffled, surrounded by Gurkha officers in a truck.

And even the windows were blacked out.

It was total dehumanization. Total domination.

I felt nauseous during the trip. When I arrived at the court, I was brought along passageways and finally allowed to sit in a quiet room. I was then brought to a conference room where a Chinese man and Malay woman sat opposite me. Before entering the room, I met with Tim who told me he would be waiting for me and to make sure I signed the declaration.

The man asked me if the declaration was mine. Of course, it was not. It was the ISD’s statement. All I was supposed to do was sign it.

“Yes, it is” I replied.

The commissioner affirmed it and I was sent back to the detention centre.

A couple of days later, I was brought to the interrogation room with Chang and the other officers. I had expected the PAP government to publicise my arrest although I expected it to have happened earlier.

Chang told me that the government sent out statements about my detention.

“But your wife, she go and send a press statement, you know. She sent late at night. After 10. We cannot stop her. If she say she sent earlier she is a liar!”

I did not understand where this line was coming from. Chang had insulted Shireen in front of me repeatedly the last few weeks. What did sending a response early or late have anything to do with it? (Read report on my family’s statement here)

But he went on.

“We have no time to stop her. You know, she is a radical. Now there is talk to arrest her.”

My heart pounded fast. Arrest Shireen? For sending a press statement? I felt utterly helpless.

I yanked my left hand away from the chair arm that I was cuffed to and held onto the chain. “This is the problem” I said to Chang.

I was powerless to protect my wife and my family.

I was desperate.

“Sir, if my wife did something wrong, please don’t take it out on her. Take it out on me” I begged.

Subscribe Below: