Daté HOUEDAKOR- The diary of an immigrant going to be deported soon: violence and babarism by the law enforcement staff!
Interview by Yves K. LODONOU (24/10/20016 de21h50 à 22h25) +32474 37 83 76 ; firstname.lastname@example.org
The only crime is to be a foreigner, the other one there. “The foreigner is not dangerous but he is in (permanent) danger ” according to Frontières ouvertes asbl
It is variable-geometry democracy in our big States. Well, we are not really surprised. The individual does not count, institutional violence is the rule. What happens currently to the voiceless? They are whispering far away from any sympathetic ear and look…
Mr Houedakor Daté experienced an unparalleled story at his expense. He was shaken, despised, molested, handcuffed, put on a plane and then taken out of it thanks to the clairvoyance of the pilot. Read what follows:
« Caricole Centre, 3 p.m.. I am ready for the second deportation attempt. There was supposed to be another person. The social service of the retention centre calls me. I go to meet them and agents introduced themselves to me as federal police agents. A quite particular unit since they were in civilian clothes.
What will follow tells a lot.
They bring me to their premises. They meticulously search me. I was totally undressed. They checked everyting that was in my suitcase. I come from retention and they search me like a vulgar criminal.
Five officers only for me
The officers gave me a debriefing on the deportation. They assert that I have fake documents. They showed my ID card and told me that if I accepted to return I could get my ID back and then be allowed to come back.
I told them that I still had pending procedures, notably the DNA test. They answered me that I was naive, that I let myself be cheated by the lawyer, that he is a liar and doesn’t tell me the truth. etc
I have the feeling that they did not read my record and that they invent things.
I tell them that my fingerprints were taken, I am an honest man, I work and I am a father.
Then they handcuffed me very tight (you can see the traces on my wrists). I cried and shouted but these people are insensible. Then they tied my feet. They striked me with their elbows, humiliated me, trampled me, pushed on my stomach etc to then throw me into a car. The brutality continued. I am helpless and I am not a danger for anynone, neither for me nor for others nor the pulic order.
Once arrived on the tarmac, they made me go into the place and had me sit at the back. Mistreatments continued. In pain, I started to shout and cry of distress. These presumed federal police officers asked me to keep quiet.Passengers in the plane turned back, trying to understand what was going on. A man of African origin also started to shout at some point.
Each time I could shout I did it, but my voice was fading away at times.
This is how the pilot came to see me and asked me not to shout but I couldn’t handle it anymore. Then the pilot said he would not fly with me on board.
I was taken out of the plane and driven back to the Caricole. I was suffocating and asked to see a doctor.
A doctor came. He examined me and asked me what was wrong. I started explaining everything but the presumed federal police officers told him that I was lying and that I had fake papers.
What happened to me that night helped me realise how thousands of victims suffer during deportations with the presumed federal police officers.
At a certain point I thought I was going to die. I even asked the presumed officers to kill me so that my children would be able to visit my grave.
I asked them if they had children.
I have children, and twins who were just born.
I think that a criminal may not even experience what they made me experience. I did not commit any offense, any political, economical, blood crime etc. but my fate was sealed between the hands of those presumed federal police officers.
As a conclusion
May I lodge a complaint against the Belgian State (5 officers, i.e my torturers)?
Democracy and the respect for individual freedoms are not guaranteed in the areas where laws do not apply, such as the Caricole centre. Semira Adamu had gone through all that, and others as well I guess…
Today it is my turn. May be God didn’t want to? May be my African ancestors did not want to?
I lost my appetite, I am discouraged and I fear for my security. If a State like Belgium that is supposed to protect me puts my life at risk, I wonder a lot about what does the life of an immigrant deprived of their liberty represent, because he wanted to live, yes, live, it’s all about the RIGHT TO LIVE. One has to go through a therapy after experiencing all this retention things.
Belgium welcomed me, it gave me the chance to live until October 1st 2016, when I found myself in this pit, the Caricole centre.
The presdumed federal police agents really behaved like a militia obeying orders…
In countries where unpopular and antidemocratic regimes rule, one may assist to such blunders.
Belgium, a democratic country in Western Europe, big power having adhered to international treaties lets those same texts be violated by inhuman, degrading, xenophobic and negrophobic acts.