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It was about two o'clock in the afternoon
on February 22, 1993, and I was having a cup of tea at a shop in
Hlaing Bwe, Karen State. A military jeep pulled up in front of the
shop and I saw three passengers and the driver get out. I noticed
that despite the jeep being a military vehicle, all its occupants
were dressed in civilian clothes.
They appeared to be in a hurry and all of a sudden I sensed danger.
My fears were realized when they all headed straight for my table
and surrounded me. One of the faces of the officers looked familiar,
but I couldn't place him. He seemed to be the leader of the group
and he looked straight at me and said in a hushed voice, 'Could
you come with us for a quick chat?'
'What for?' I replied.
'Shut up, you son of a bitch!' the leader abruptly shouted.
Before I could say anything further they grabbed my hands and handcuffed
me behind my back. After they bundled me in to the jeep, the group
leader took out a pistol and cocked it He then placed the pistol
up against my temple.
'See what this is? Don't even think about causing trouble,' he threatened.
By this time I wasn't worried any longer. I had considered myself
to be at great risk returning to Burma and I was prepared for what
would now happen. I didn't show them any fear and the officer with
the pistol sensed my resolve.
'Consider yourself a dead man if I'm included in the interrogation
team,' he said as soon as the car sped off.
I later learned that he was the Commander of Military Intelligence
Service Unit 25 (MI-25). He looked familiar because I had helped
chase him away during a demonstration in Mudon in 1988 while he
was gathering information about us. That day he lost his pistol,
his bag and his motorbike.
At the Hlaing Bwe Police Station, the MIS officers moved all the
prisoners into one the two cells and placed me in the other cell
on my own. This elevated my status to a special prisoner and I immediately
thought that what was in store for me would be very unpleasant.
With this realization, my previous coolness began to disappear.
The following day I was driven southwest to Pa-an, the capital of
Karen State and a car with security personnel drove in front of
us. As soon as we passed the Hlaing Bwe Township limits, the MIS
officers pulled a hood over my head. There was complete darkness;
I couldn't see a thing. For the first time in my life I began to
appreciate the importance of sight. I also began to feel lonely
and abandoned.
An hour passed, the car stopped and I was forced to get out. I walked
about four steps before the MIS stopped me and told me to bend down
to avoid something. With the hood still over my head, I couldn't
see what was in the way. I obeyed, but one of them said that it
wasn't far enough so I bent down further and walked forward.
'Jump over it! Jump over it!' an officer suddenly shouted.
I then jumped over something, but I didn't know what it was. I was
then repeatedly told to either bend down or to jump to avoid things,
and I was periodically allowed to rest. After doing this about 20
times I started feeling tired and humiliated, and I soon couldn't
stand hearing the orders and shouts any longer. I also grew suspicious
at what theywere doing. As a result, I decided that the next time
I was ordered to bend down or jump over something I would instead
walk straight ahead. The order to bend doewn was given but idisobeyed
and walked upright. My heart missed a beat and I didn't bump into
anything. I then realised that I had been walking, bending over
and jumping in the middle of an open space. I later learned from
experienced prisoners that Military Intelligence often ordered political
suspects to act in this way. This treatment is usually given to
those the MIS don't particularly like orto someone who's morale
needs to be broken. I suddenly grew angry and felt further humiliated
knowing that all along I had been standing in the middle of an open
space.
'Not bad,'exclaimed another.
'What an actor!' exclaimed anoter.
'He can pass for a real actor!'
I shouted back at them,'You've gone too far.'
The MIS officers burst out laughing. Degraded and humiliated, I
slumped to the ground unable to take it any longer. They then dragged
me to a room and threw me in.
A few minutes later I heard an MIS officer make a phone call and
I heard my name being mentioned. Then suddenly an officer banged
open the door to my room. I was startled and also terrified for
I didn't know what they were going to do to me.
The MIS officers began to question me. I thought they'd ask me questions
about the government literary club incident, and that they'd tell
me of the arrests of three of my colleagues and that they knew everything
about me and my operations. However, iwas dead wrong. They began
by asking me questions about which I knew nothing. It was totally
unexpected and for a moment I didn't know what to say. They thought
I was hesitating in order to think up some lie, and one of the officers
kicked me across my chest and I fell over backwards from the chair
I was sitting on. My head hit the cement floor and I blacked out
for a moment. When I came round I found that they had handcuffed
me behind my back.
'Bring the machine,' an officer ordered.
In no time, I heard the buzzing of a motor and I began to feel a
little nervvous. I thought they were probably going to give me electric
shocks. I had heard of this torture before and the realisation of
what was coming was terrifying. The sound of the buzzing was even
more frightening. Then, at the last minut, someone intervened.
'Stop what you are doing. Write down whatever he says. We'll have
to send him somewhere else.'
I sighed with enormous relief and thought myself extremely lucky.
They then asked me a lot of questions and I gave them some answers.
I knew they had to let me go. When the interrogation session was
over, they took off the hood and gave me some food. I could see
the dissatisfaction on the face of the commander. I assumed he must
have remember me from the Mudon incident and he seemed annoyed at
not being able to torture me to his heart's content.
Although the food tasted disgusting, I ate it all as I was hungry
and needed sustenance. After I finished eatting, an officer handcuffed
me and told me to sleep. I was overjoye at the opportunity to have
time to rest. However, the thought of what might happen tomorrow
occupied my mind and I began to worry. 'Where are they going to
send me?' I thought to myself, 'What will they ask?' 'How will they
torture me?'
I lay down on the cement floor but it was cold, so I got up and
walked up and down the small cell contemplating what lay ahead of
me. I thought about freedom, and that freedom was what mattered
most. When you lose your freedom, you lose everything. I couldn't
sleep that night. My loneliness, helplessness and worries about
what sleep that night. My loneliness, helplessness and worries about
what lay ahead kept me awake all night. However, it was the only
time throughout my period of interrogation that I was allowed to
sleep.
The following mornig two men in militery jackets woke me up. One
of them was holding a hood in his hand and as expected they covered
my head with the hood and handcuffed me behind my back. They then
pushed me into a car and drove off. I sensed it was still dark outside.
I soon realised the car had no roof and that it was going very fast.
Although winter was about to end, I was shivering in the morning
cold.
'Could I go to the toilet and get my jumper from my bag?' I asked
the MIS officers.
'Shut your foul mouth! We're not going on a picnic!' one of them
replied.
I fell silent until we reached Myaing Gale, a small town on the
banks of the Salween River. Across the river was Pa-an, the capital
of Karen State. The MIS officers took the hood offmy head and a
bright morning sun greeted me. I understood that they couldn't take
me across the river on the public ferry with a hood over my head.
They took me into a shop and I could see their worried looks and
hear them warning each other. We were in a public place and after
all they were the guilty ones.
We crossed the and headed for Rangoon. They didn't cover my head
again until we reached a place on the oustkirts of the capital.
When the car came to a stop they pulled me out of the vehicle and,
just lid before, they told me to bend down and jump over things.
I obeyed the first time, but when they told me to jump over a ditch,
I dragged my feet along the ground. Again my heart skipped a beat,
as I couldn't see a thing. As I moved forward the ground gave way
and I quickly withdrew my foot realising that there was a real ditch
in front of me.
'What a clever boy!' one of the officers remarked. 'The first team
must have given him a lesson. Well, we'll see how clever you are!'
They threw em into a room, stripped off my shirt and sarong and
conducted a body search. They then ordered me to put my hands up
inj the air while I was standing.
'Don't try to sit down without an order,' an officer told me.
I had to remain in this position with only my underpants on for
about an hour. This method of torture seemed relatively harmless
at first, but slowly my legs became stiff and numb and my arms started
dropping. I couldn't hold out much longer and was about to collapse
when one of the officers spoke.
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