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A series of deafening screams woke
me up. I instantly realised that the loud noises were coming from
another cell. I heard the sound of beatings and someone in sharp
pain accompanied by an angry voice yelling abuse. Once or twice,
the painful cries made me feel as if I myself was being brutally
tortured. A while later I recognised the voice. It was Ko Bo Kyi,
a leader of the lower Burma chapter of the All Burma Federation
of Student Unions (ABFSU). His cries of anguish slowly died down
after about half an hour.
My mouth was dry and I was dying for some water. I was also hungry
and my stomach was rumbling. I also needed to go to the toilet.
Feeling thirsty, hungry and in pain, I lay there for another hour
until I heard the sound of the latch.
'Cover your face with the blindfold,' a voice ordered.
A group came into the room and stayed for about ten minutes without
saying or doing anything. Then they began to talk among themselves
and shortly afterwards all of them walked out except the one known
as Bo Letwa, or Big Palm. I knew his name from their conversation.
'Take off the blindfold,' he ordered.
I pulled it off and saw the first man in the flesh since my detention.
Bo Letwa was a large man. I took him to be about six-foot-three.
'He must be one of the torturers,' I was thinking to myself. Then
he walked behind me and struck me so hard on my spine that I was
thrown off the bed.
'Sit down on the chair,' he ordered.
He then painted my fingers with black ink that he had brought with
him. He placed my fingerprints on every page of my answers. There
were many pages and I also had to sign at the bottom of each one.
When I asked him why I had to do all this, he hit me on the back
of my neck. I didn't protest any more and signed all the papers.
I also had to sign my name on a blank sheet of paper. I wouldn't
get an answer even if I tried to ask what that page was for. The
reality was that I was like water in their hands-they could treat
me as they liked.
When Bo Letwa left the room, he locked the door' behind him. The
noises of beatings and cries of pain from adjacent rooms came back
to me when I was not occupied with questions or beatings. I remember
the facility was filled with the continuous wailing of people suffering
excruciating pain. 'This place can kill anyone, 'I thought.
A moment later I heard footsteps at the door, and to my surprise
I had already pulled the blindfold over my head as soon as I heard
the door opening, without being ordered to do so. During this session,
my torturers told me to do sit-ups holding my right ear with my
left hand as if I were a student being punished by his teacher.
They, however, stopped me after a few sit-ups and asked me how many
times I thought I could do it.
'About a hundred times, 'I said confidently.
I was then ordered to do it a thousand times and this frightened
me. I think I had finished about 200 sit-ups when I dropped to the
floor. That was as much as I could do with the little strength I
had left. One of them pulled me up and forced me to stand. They
were merciless; I had to go on. It wouldn't take long, only about
ten sit-ups, before I would find myself on the floor again. Then
they all left without questioning me. Relieved, I slumped onto the
bed. Only then did I realise that my feet were swollen from standing
while being questioned and the unnecessary exercise.
Just then, I heard a deep groaning sound coming from the cell opposite
mine. It was harrowing and made me nervous. About the same time,
I heard various kinds of screams, beatings and yelling from the
cells around me. The whole place sounded chaotic and I felt lonely
for the first time. I knew I was losing my concentration. Then I
heard a faint clicking sound in the cell and I began to panic, but
I then realised it was just the sound of a small lizard on the ceiling.
Now my throat was almost dry, and even my saliva was drying out,
as I had had to swallow it so many times. I was dying for water
and food and had an uncontrollable urge to go to toilet. It was
strange to feel all this at the same time. For the first time I
was hoping someone would open the door. Holding out, it felt like
I had to wait ages for the door to open. I began to sweat and feel
dizzy and my sight became blurry. Eventually I decided to relieve
myself in the cell, as I couldn't stand the pain any longer. I held
up my sarong and squatted down to shit. Just as I was about to do
it, I heard a loud pounding on the door.
'You must not defecate in the room!' a booming voice ordered.
'Cover your eyes!'
I gathered they were watching me through the mirror. I stood up,
rolled down my sarong and put the blindfold back on. I heard a group
of people rush into the room.
'What happened?' they queried.
'I want to drink some water, urinate and shit,' I immediately replied.
'Fuck you! We arrested you to interrogate you, not to give you water
or food, or send you to the toilet!' someone shouted. 'We can't
let you have any of these things until we get satisfactory answers
from you! I don't give a shit if you die! Drop dead if you like!
But if you shit here in the room, I'll burn your arse with molten
iron!'
My hopes for a drink and a shit were shattered. I slumped back onto
the floor and screamed out at the top of my lungs. The soldiers
left the room chuckling and giggling, and I was left lying on the
floor.
Soon after, another batch of soldiers arrived. They asked me what
had happened but I didn't say anything. In fact, I had decided not
to say a word and to be passive to the abuse. The leader of the
group then began to grumble like an old woman when he didn't get
any response from me.
'Look at the room. It's dirty and it smells. You're going to die
if you stay here a long time. 'He then pulled me up like a nurse
treating an ailing patient. 'My younger brother, we have no authority
to give you water or food, but we can send you to the toilet.'
I was then blindfolded, and two of the men helped me out of the
room. Once outside, I was told to bend down, jump over a ditch and
turn left and right during the ten-minute walk to the toilet. We
stopped in front of the toilet and one of them opened the door for
me. I had to walk up some steps with them, and once in the toilet
I was told to remain where I was. The two men walked back out and
closed the door behind them. Then they ordered me to take off the
blindfold.
The toilet was the type in which you use water to clean yourself.
When I finished going to the toilet, I drank the water from the
tap to my heart's content. I then put the blindfold back on and
knocked on the door. The two men asked me if I had covered my eyes
with the blindfold, I replied that I had and they took me back to
my cell. Again I was told to bend down, jump over a ditch and take
a few turns on the way back. I think the return trip from the toilet
took half the time. In the cell, I was told to sit on the chair
and my interrogator began talking.
'Let's have a brotherly chat,' he said. 'You can tell me a anything
you want and I'll tell you what's on my mind.'
That sounded like a generous offer. He then asked questions about
my childhood, my days at school and how I got involved in the events
of 1988. He also told me how he became an MIS officer. He asked
my opinions regarding the current political situation, the future
and the role of youth and students in modern Burma. He wanted to
know what I felt about the State Law and Order Restoration Council
(SLORC).
'Let's call a spade a spade,' he said nonchalantly. 'The SLORC has
many problems and I don't like a lot of the things they've done.
I think they need to come up with some changes. What do you think?
Let me hear your views on that.'
I knew what he was driving at. He was working his way around to
pump information out of me. I was very careful and figured that
he also knew I was being cautious not to say anything beyond what
should be revealed. In the course of my answers he would interrupt
me to ask questions from time to time. The interrogation session
was without any kind of physical torture and with such a favorable
atmosphere I took the opportunity to ask for some food.
'I haven't eaten anything for the last two days and I'm very hungry,'
I told him. 'Let me have some food.' In fact, I had no idea how
long I had been at the Interrogation Center. I just guessed.
'No problem. I'll make sure you get some food when we are done with
this conversation, 'he promised.
Because of his promise, I lost all of what little interest I had
in the supposed conversation and looked forward to the end of the
session. The session lasted about four hours and before he left
I reminded him of his promise. I waited for another half an hour
and heard them come back. Out of extreme hunger, I wasted no time
to ask for some food.
'You won't get any food, but I'll give you this instead,' the officer
said, giving me a strong, heavy blow to the chest.
I was thrown backwards and bumped into someone else who was standing
behind me. He pulled me up and kicked my waste. I was thrown forward
and I fell face down on the table. I felt blood gashing out from
my chin and nose. Then the man behind me pulled me up by my shirt
collar and turned me around. This was the prefect position for the
officer in front of me as he cuffed my ears with his hands. I was
momentarily deafened and could only hear the blurry murmurs of my
torturers.
Then they forced me down on my knees with my hands on my neck and
my head bowed. They started questioning me in this position. No
matter how I answered their questions, I was beaten with a cane
and a leather belt and kicked from time to time. They asked one
question three times, and other questions that they had asked me
two days before. There was nothing I could do. Unfortunately, I
was unable to give them satisfactory answers either because I didn't
know anything about the situation they were asking, or because I
had no connection whatsoever with what they were referring to.
This lasted for about half an hour until one of the officers said
to his men, 'We must give him a lesson. He is not co-operating with
us.'
A moment later heard the emptying of something like small stones
onto the cement floor and I was told to kneel down in the previous
position. I knew instantly what was in for me. I had to kneel on
tiny, sharp pieces of rock. I didn't have time to protest or try
to get up because someone was already holding me down. It was incredibly
painful. I couldn't move but I was able to fight back the tears.
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