Torontonamo

I have finally finished translating the testimony written by a very good friend of mine from Quebec. He has been both politically and socially involved in his community as well as on an international level . He has dedicated his life to activism and for this I will always have the utmost respect for him. He has been a personal influence and inspiration to me, and I feel that sharing what he went through is a small way to show my gratitude for all that he has done. The following testimony has to do with our comrade and I did have to cut a lot of pieces out because the original of this document will be used in court,so certain situations, the names of victims, and so forth, have been edited out.

Testimony dated Thursday, July 8th, 2010

Part One:
False Accusations
Arrests made on Sunday June 27, 2010 between the hours of 08h00-09h00
On Saturday June 26, the evening before the mass arrests were made, the police created a perimeter around the Graduate Students' Union building of the University of Toronto, where we had been throughout the night. The police stopped anyone attempting to leave the premises so they could rummage through their belongings without reasonable cause by threatening to put them under arrest if they did not comply.

During the early morning hours of Sunday June 27, A "Special Unit" task force arrived on the scene. A leader or delegate from a group of activists from Quebec that were staying with us went outside to ask to speak with an official delegate of the Special Unit that had arrived and also for an official search warrant. That is when a police officer hit him in the face and tackled him to the ground. The other officers stormed into the building. The first police officer inside shouted, "Nobody move!" in English. He was carrying a very large rubber bullet gun, the type used as an anti-riot weapon for large-scale crowd control. He intimidated us by pointing it within inches of the faces of people in the room who, like me, were sleeping quietly before the officers barged in. Several minutes passed before I knew what was happening to us – a police chief came into the room to explain to us, in English, that we were all accused of having participated in a riot, and also for supposedly being in possession of "street-type weapons" that were found scattered around the premises. Most of us did not quite fully understand what he was telling us because of the language barrier. Twenty minutes had passed before a senior police officer from Montreal arrived to explain to us in French about the counts of rioting being charged on us. I took the initiative to urge everyone to call their lawyers and relatives to tell them what had happened to us. Some of us had asked the officers for their badge numbers which were hidden by their vests, and they flat out refused to identify themselves by name or their badge number.
Because I told everyone to call their lawyers and families, the police perceived me as being some sort of leader. I was taken outside and placed with the other activists from Quebec. A police officer, "T-Lee", violently threw me to the ground then told me to sit down. He searched my belongings and looked at my digital camera. Frustrated that I had no images on it, perhaps to use against me in some way, he violently threw it to the ground and, afterwards, I had not been able to find it. "T-Lee", along with another police officer I could not identify, picked me up off the ground and walked me over to the side of the building. "T-Lee" held me against the brick wall, while my arms were being pulled behind me very strongly by the unidentified police officer. "T-Lee" then proceeded to take my head and repeatedly bash it against the brick wall and said, "Welcome to Toronto, Asshole!" He told me that if I had "cooperated with him", he would have not used force against me – even though I had already been cooperating, never once did I resist him or any other police officer, he still beat me for no reason. For my well-being and for him to stop physically assaulting me, I reluctantly said I would cooperate because he was hurting me – I knew the only reason he did this was to make me submit to his apparent need for domination. I witnessed the others being treated the exact same – a high-ranking police officer did not want me to look at how the others were being treated so he began to hit me. Then, we went through the usual procedures of arrest (photo identification, handcuffs), but, strangely, in front of all the journalists, it was the police officers from Montreal who escorted us into the prisoner transport bus to be brought to a detention facility.

Part Two:
Inside the Belly of the Beast...
Sunday June 27, 2010 between the hours of 10h00-11h00
Arriving at the detention center, I could see it was a very large, warehouse-type building, with extremely high ceilings and concrete floors. The sight was too much to process what I was seeing through the cage-like interior of the transport bus. It felt like we were in some 3rd world country. Out in front of the building were two physically disabled individuals on wheelchairs, with their hands cuffed to their feet. I was very disturbed by this image. Once parked in front of the building, guards took our belongings and disrespectfully mishandled them, without a care. Several people have testified that my personal property has been broken along with my glasses. We were then taken inside the building, and we all had asked to have our phone call to speak with our families and the right to an attorney or contact our own lawyers, and the guards said they did not have access to a phone or legal assistance for us. I knew of a lawyer in Ontario, but I had never met him in person or been a client of his in the past. 57 to 60 hours passed before I got to speak to with him. I specifically asked him whether or not he understood French, and he said yes but when I questioned him, he was incapable of answering me. Fifteen of us were crammed into a small holding cell equipped with one chemical toilet without a door. They had installed extremely strong lights that hung over the holding cells which were blinding, and the cells were made of iron and steel which made a huge and deafening echo when the guards would open and close the doors. The concrete floor was freezing because the air conditioning was on extremely high and, in addition, most people were barefoot and without shoes and badly dressed because we had been arrested in while sleeping. Twelve hours would pass before they removed our wrist ties. I happened to be double-cuffed, both of my arms became numb and I had extremely sharp pains in my wrists. The following hours in the detention center were like a horror story. We were moved from cell to cell. We were starving because they had arrested us while we were sleeping so we did not have anything to eat since the night before. We had asked for food and water, and waited between 4-6 hours from the time we asked before they actually gave us something. They arrived with a small white bread sandwich with margarine spread and a slice of processed American cheese, along with a small cup of water and some sort of instant juice mix which tasted like nothing. I had spent over 20 hours without food or water to the point that I quickly fell ill, and because of that I have been to the hospital twice for a saline drip due to my state of undernourishment and dehydration because of the circumstances the police and the ones responsible at the Detention Center put me in. Back in the cell, I had severe diarrhea due to starving, dehydration, and the stress of what was happening. My friends created a "wall" by standing in a row in front of me for my dignity so that I could be able to relieve myself in quiet without having to be outwardly ridiculed by the guards. We also did not have access to any toilet paper, which, made keeping a hygienic environment difficult to maintain. Because of the lack of proper air circulation, chemical toilets without doors, and the fact that were not being serviced, the whole detention center reeked of excrement throughout to the point where some people could not eat the little food they were given because it was so overwhelming. The prison guards were under pressure for the large number of orders. I noticed how much stress they were really under. They were extremely impatient and arrogant, and used racist slurs (such as: frenchie, frenchie piece of shit, frog, etc) and disparaging remarks you would not have to endure if you were English/Anglophone or not being detained. It was quite a problem when it came down to all of the procedures and steps taking place since none of the prison guards or other staff spoke French. I had been brought into a private meeting room to be recorded while having my charges read to me, but it was exclusively in English so I did not quite understand everything that was being said to me. Not to mention the constant and unrelenting humiliation from being strip searched, having the guards creating false hopes of liberation with twisted mind games.
After 40 or 45 hours of detention, we were transferred to a van in which we were suffocating because it had no windows and very poor air circulation and sat in it for 20 minutes waiting to leave. We never ended up leaving the premises so they had us exit the van and return to our holding cells. We all thought we were going to go mad if we spent another night at the detention center. My friends were extremely on edge and very sick. They started shouting that they would not sleep another night here, so the guards were preparing start using pepper spray to control outburst. It was a critical situation concerning the complete disregard lack of human rights and rights as Canadians we never would imagine could happen. Finally, after hours of negotiations with the guards, we were transferred to the Toronto Jail.


Part Three:
Toronto Jail
During the night of Monday June 28, 2010
We were once again put into the van that had little air circulation to be transferred to the Toronto prison. Upon arrival of the prison, we were paired off and placed in handcuffs. We were quickly transferred to a temporary cell for a time yet to be identified. Then we were individually examined by a nurse, without asking our permission, the nursing assistant injecting something into our arm that was supposedly to control tuberculosis. Again, we had to endure a second strip search along with a cavity search. After the examinations, we got placed in cells once more. We asked the prison staff to give us food and water, since I had spoken to the provincial judge a few hours before during a teleconference with my lawyer, I asked the judge for the right of access to food and water. The judge did order the prison to feed me, but I was conveniently forgotten about. I had to wait an additional 12 hours before eating when I already had not eaten for 8-10 hours prior. I was so hungry that during night I re-opened a wound that "T-Lee" had inflicted on my hand and I drank my own blood to soothe the unbearable ache in my stomach. I had hoped to be in a better situation with better conditions compared to the detention center but, my hopes quickly crumbled. It was the same as before- 15 people in a cell that normally could accommodate maybe 6 or 8. There was nothing to protect us from the cold, or sanitary conditions and very little to no access to water or food. I truly felt like I was in a Third World prison. It has been so cold that we sat glued to one another to be able to sleep a little. In the morning, they moved us in an even smaller cell. We went from one extreme to another- The heat was stifling and the smell was unbearable because we could not take any showers, or change clothing since our arrest. The prison guards were very psychologically abusive, and made extremely racist and homophobic remarks towards us. None of us dared to ask them for something we needed because they had such blind hatred towards us because we are Quebecers. The mental abuse and humiliation was almost unbearable, but I turned a deaf ear and did not answer.
Around noon we were transferred from prison to the courthouse.


Part Four:
A Lasting Effort...
Monday 28 June 2010
Once at the courthouse, we thought we ended our trip from hell, but the proceedings were so long that we were there all day until the late hours of the night before we were released.
We waited for a very long time in a packed cell of 9 to 10 people. We went through the same routine for a third time. We were given a sandwich with margarine and processed cheese once again. We had to fight with the guards for toilet paper and once again they refused. I saw several of my friends start to be very psychologically affected because of the long incarceration with the complete lack of basic necessities, and not really knowing exactly what will happen with them. For most people this was the first time they were in prison. Many were upset at not being able to speak to their immediate family or even some thought of going to prison even though they knew they were innocent of any charges for the way he had been arrested and treated throughout this ordeal. They no longer believed in justice. They had been victims of racial profiling and reactionary attitudes and that the only way out was the prison for trying to defend an ideal. Many hoped for all of the mistreatment and abuse to stop, but were able to endure it because everyone supported each other in strength through solidarity until the end. Once before the judge, the proceedings were a very brief and expeditious issue of formality. I talked to a lawyer for two, perhaps three seconds and I'm sure it was not the same with whom I had previously talked on the phone. The judge told me that I was going to be released on certain conditions and a thousand dollar fine. After she told me I would be able to leave in three hours after I got my paperwork. Five hours passed before I had my official papers.
I was released late at night, and I was fortunate that my eyesight isn't completely compromised due to the fact I wear glasses. I had asked the judge on four occasions to have my glasses when I was looking through my personal effects. My glasses were bent and broken as if someone had tried to completely break them apart but ran out of time.

In the end, it was worth personally experiencing the horror which was "Torontonamo". Being wrongfully detained for 65 hours, comparing the many stories of inhuman treatment, deeply moved and affected me. It inspires me to continue the fight for my fellow man's rights and freedoms. My only hope is that justice is served to the real culprits responsible for these cruel acts. Many people will never recover from this experience; they will be affected for the rest of lives.

Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms
CRUELTY 12. Everyone is entitled to protection against any cruel and unusual punishment.

I would like to thank my dear friend Tom for helping with this text.