The following was scribbled on a piece of paper by Tarek and passed to Huwaida via a lawyer during court proceedings for the deportation of 8 international peace activists on July 17, 2003. The hunger protest referred to was begun on the evening on July 15.
I had forgotten what love was. My world was one of anger, rage and hate. As the 5 or 6 police officers each took a turn hitting me, all I cold think of was hate. There could be nothing else. All of this started when Captain Ya’kov (Yoki) Golan came into our room and asked if we were on hunger strike. “We’re not eating,” we replied. A few police thugs swarmed the room and started to take anything. Capt. Ya’kov started to talk about how we were nothing, to which I replied, “shut the hell up and don’t you dare talk to us like that. You can’t break me. You can’t break any of us.” “I’m not just going to break you; I’m going to destroy you.” We all laughed.
We were strip searched 3 times in the next hour and then they came for me.
“Where are you taking him?” The other seven protested on my behalf. They cared more about me than I did. I came to terms with the fact that I was going into solitary, and finally approached the police. “I’m ready.” I declared melodramatically. That’s when the first hand came. They grabbed my shirt and pulled me to the ground in front of the cell. I did nothing. Even if I wanted to, I had lost track of all my appendages. All I knew was that they were all limp. The hitting started, and I filled the halls with screams of pain.
As I was up against the wall, with one man stomping on my leg, another bending my arm and another two or three pulling and hitting elsewhere, I caught a glimpse of the faces and entered that other world.
I can’t do anything now. The guards who were involved all smile when they pass our cell. And all of this over the only act of resistance we can do: going hungry. One thing hasn’t changed though: none of us will be broken.
Read Tobius’ note from jail here.