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Taking Exams in Prison |
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Don't think that there are no exams after an activist is imprisoned in Burma. There are some exams and I was reminded of my school days with these hard exams. First it was the sound of the iron door opening and a voice, "Gyauk jet, gyauk jet." And then, shouting of my name followed and I was asked to change into the white-colored prison uniform. "Come out for questioning," was next. .It was shocking, as I had not had such an experience before. Why did I need to be questioned as I was already sentenced? Would it be more interrogation or another trail? Was there anything wrong with my answers in the previous interrogation period? There were many things to worry about. I was anxious. See, the time was almost 5:00 p.m. in the evening and the prison was about to close. Now there would be more questions and answers and I felt nervous. My experience in the interrogation period had been really terrifying, like others' and not unusual. I was touched with cigarette tips, beaten and knocked around, hung upside-down with my legs tied to the ceiling. Water was poured on my head and my face covered with a plastic sheet. A wooden rod rolled along my shins. I was forced to stand in a half-sitting position and stretch out my arms as if I were holding onto the handles of a motorbike. I was to shout in the voice of a motorbike engine while I was to call out where I arrived, when I changed gears, stepped on the break, and pushed the horn. I was not allowed to rest and drove a long time. I have so much to write down about that terrible experience, it could be a thick book. Now, I thought, do I have to face the same experience? I thought I had had enough experiences. Military Intelligence (MI) mostly managed interrogations in the prison. They could behave as they liked because they had the authority to do so. I was not able to refuse and listened to them as if I was water in their hand. I was in prison so there was no way to run. That's why I changed my dress and stepped outside my cell. My head was hooded and two prison officers dragged and led me to a place I did not know in advance. This is the life of political prisoner under the military regime. Locked in a tiny cell, it was as if my eyes and ears were blocked. When I stepped down from my cell, my eyes were blocked again. Finally the hood on my head was removed. I was in a room lit with a bulb. There was one table and two chairs facing each other in the middle of the room. On the table were papers, a pen and a folder. What are they going to do? The prison staff behind me asked me to sit down and I did. I said "Thank you" in my mind for being allowed to sit. Of course, I had not been allowed to sit in the previous interrogations. I had to stand for many hours while replying to their questions and submitting to their torture. I thought this time would be different from the previous one as I was allowed to sit down very early. A moment after I sat, a man in a sport shirt and with smart hair came in. He sat across from me. His manner was quite cool. His body was tough, and he seemed healthy. He looked at me. His eyes were sharp and bright. He started talking and asked what I needed, about my health and living conditions, etc. "How are you?" he asked. Why did he ask me that question? Although my physical health was not too bad, my mental health seemed not to be okay. I was kept in a tiny cell for 23 and a half hours a day. I was allowed out for less than 30 minutes. It really hurt me as I was kept in that cell almost the whole day. It was not only one day, but it was for years. In the 8'x10' small cell, I had my meal, walked, slept and answered nature's calls. Who would be okay in that sort of place? There were two exit doors; one was iron and the other was wooden. It gave me much stress. I explained a little bit about it. "You all are unjust. I have been imprisoned under unconfirmed and nonsense charges. I didn't do anything wrong but brutally I have been put in a tiny cell." He smiled at me like a winner in battle. He told me to be patient; there were many prisoners and a small amount of rooms, and security was important. He also said that the current conditions were only temporary, and they were going to improve the conditions. "When will the temporary conditions be finished?" I asked. The answer was that it depended on the outside political conditions. "No rights to listen the radio, write or read. No newspaper. No talking to the prisoners in the other rooms. Even during family visit time (15 minutes every two weeks), no politics in conversation. "Do I have to stay in this condition till I am released?" He answered that he knew nothing and it was up to his superior and he had to work according to the orders. I asked him to report my condition and he said that he would. This was only an introduction to the exam. The prison staff had left as soon as he arrived and signaled for them to go out. So there were only two of us in the room, he and I. He ordered a cup of tea and a pack of cigarettes and asked for my personal data. He asked very detailed questions about my parents, siblings, the places I had lived, the jobs I had held and how I came to be in prison. He sometimes opened the folder and checked my answers with the data in his file. After the questions, he revealed the matter of importance: why I urgently had been interviewed again. The MI wanted to know about my political opinions. He asked me to fill out the form in my own handwriting. He also warned me to think carefully as it would affect my future life. The paper sheets were on the table. I was told to write as long as I could. I just said "Okay" when he said that he would be outside the room. When he left the room, I looked at the questions. It was a short questionnaire. What was my opinion on the Tatmadaw (armed forces), the military-sponsored national convention, the National League for Democracy (NLD) (the political party which had won by a landslide victory in the 1990 elections), NLD leader Aung San Suu Kyi, the slogan of the military government, the Tatmadaw's plan to participate in a future leading political role, the 1988 democracy uprising and my activities, the 1988 military coup, military leaders, the exiled democracy forces and my future political plans. There were over ten questions. The last paragraph was a proposal. It asked whether I could promise to quit acting out against the military government if I were to be released unexpectedly. Did I agree that my actions had violated the current laws, orders and state security? From the humanitarian point of view, the authorities would kindly consider my release if I agreed to and signed the above-mentioned two statements. Under the questions, there were blanks in which to write my name, my father's name, my sentence, section and date. That was the exam I had inside prison. Actually, it was only an exercise in brainwashing. The first questions regarded my opinion, political beliefs. The last two were meant to destroy my political dignity and give it up to them. It seemed that they had no idea that I had participated in political activities because of my beliefs. I had worked for democracy and human rights, which we still do not have, to stop the decades-long civil war and to build a real federal union for all the nationalities to live in peace. No one asked me to get involved in politics. But, they wanted to buy me with opportunities. Therefore, I already knew the results of the exam and how to take the exam. The first questions were not difficult. I wrote down what I thought rather completely. For the last two questions, I just left them blank and gave it back to the MI officer. He checked it and realized that I had not filled it out completely. He smiled and said, "Don't be foolish." He added, "Can't you change your opinion?" My answer was "No, that's my real opinion." His face suddenly became tough, and he called the two staff in from outside the room. "Take care of him and send him back!" On the way to my cell, as usual, I was hooded. I remembered and saw the faces of my three children and my wife. Everybody has some family ties or other attachments, but we have to look at the rest of our people. In the hood, I guessed that I was not going to pass the exam. I walked confidently although I already knew the results. However, I felt satisfied as I had showed my opinions to the military regime. In my childhood I had cried when I failed the annual exams. Now, I had ruined the one exam that could affect my future, even though I knew how to pass.
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About the Author When he was in prison, he participated in the fight between political prisoners and prison officers on September 25 of 1990. He was brutally beaten and transferred to Thayet prison for his role in the strike. In 1993, he received a SLORC amnesty (1/93) and his sentence was reduced to 10 years. As a result, after staying in both Insein and Thayet prison for 7 years and 2 months, he was finally released on December 17, 1996 from Thayet prison. While in prison, he was locked in a tiny cell for over four years. He fled to the Thai-Burma border in 2000 and remains actively involved in the struggle for Democracy and Human Rights. In the mean time, he writes a series by the name of "A sword among the flames," based on his experience in jail, and announces it on Radio Free Asia. |
