Illegal and Abusive Imprisonment

The following is an excerpt of a presentation made by Shakir Balochin at a Criminal Justice Group meeting held at the United Nations in Geneva on April 4, 2003 and sponsored by the International Human Rights Law Group.

My name is Shakir Baloch and I was born in Pakistan. I am a Canadian citizen. I graduated in medicine from Pakistan and have a certificate in ultrasound technology from Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York. In 1998, I moved to New York to work and to write my U.S. medical license exams. Until April 2000, I worked as a ultrasound technician and a limousine driver. I had to stop working at this point due to an accident.

On September 20, 2001, I was in a motor driving school taking classes to get a new limousine license. I was approached by two plainclothes officers. They asked me to come with them to my apartment. When we arrived, there were already a dozen officers searching my apartment without a search warrant. I had a few medical and political books in my bedroom. The officers angrily asked me why I read political books and why I was active in politics. I told them that I was not active in politics and that reading was my hobby. After three hours of hostile questioning and harassment, four officers took me to the INS office. Here, I asked for a lawyer and was told that I would be sent to Toronto the next day. The next day, four officers took me out of the INS office and handed me over to several U.S. Marshals. The Marshals shackled me from head to toe and put me in a van. The van took me to the Metropolitan Detention Centre with sirens blaring.

In the Centre, I was surrounded by six or seven guards who lifted me up and carried me to a hall. Here, they hit my head against all four corners of the room and punched my back repeatedly. They were yelling “You did this to us. We will kill you.” They warned me not to make eye contact with any guard. They were hitting me against the wall in this manner for an hour. I was terrified and in great pain. Then they strip searched me and gave me an orange jump suit to wear. I was transferred to the ninth floor. The cell I was in was very small, about 8 ft by 6 ft; it had a small window which was painted. There were two big lights on twenty four hours and there was a camera recording my every moment. I was not allowed to have a pillow or cover my eyes from the light. There were about five guards all the time in the corridor in front of my room making noise, showing me the finger, and threatening me constantly. I was constantly demanding a lawyer; they replied that people from Cuba have been held in the Centre for twenty years without seeing a judge. The guards refused to give me a shaving razor and only gave me a small piece of toilet paper. I was held in this cell in solitary confinement for five months. I was not allowed to see a lawyer or call my family. I was moved to a different cell every week.

The FBI came to interrogate me four or five times. They were rough and abusive. They threatened to hold me for 20 years and said that they would revoke my Canadian citizenship and deport me to Pakistan. I repeatedly asked them why they were doing this and what I had done. They never answered. I also repeatedly asked them for a lawyer. They replied that if a lawyer comes here, he’ll be in the cell next to you. They told me that I was a Sunni Muslim and that I hated Shia Muslims, Jews, Hindus and Christians. I said that that was not true. One of the agents insisted that Pakistan’s Baluchistan province, where I’m from, is in Russia. A guard from the Centre told me that I would be deported to Pakistan and by the time I got there my country would be a parking lot.

After ten weeks of such treatment, a lawyer was allowed to see me. When I went to see the lawyer, I was completely shackled and there was a camera fixed on the lawyer and myself recording every word. The first matter I asked the lawyer about was my daughter. She was 13 years old at the time and a diabetic. I was very concerned about her condition. One day one of my lawyers told me that when he came to see me a few days ago, he was told that I have been moved to a different place. I became afraid when I heard this and agreed with my lawyer that I should file a Habeas Corpus. After the Habeas Corpus was filed, two INS officers took me to the federal court. They were hostile and demanded to know why my name was in the newspaper. In court they charged me with illegal reentry into the U.S. When we returned to the Centre, I wrote to the Warden that I have been charged with an immigration violation and therefore should be transferred from solitary confinement to general population. I never received an answer except for one officer telling me that this is a federal detention centre not an immigration facility and that I must have done something very bad for me to be here. The officer added that I will be sent to general population only after clearance from Washington, D.C.

There was a counselor at the Centre whose job was to provide us with a phone. He told me that I could call a lawyer once in 30 days but I was never able to make such a call. The counselor would dial the lawyer’s number for me and give me the phone. There would be no dial tone and no answering machine at the other end. This was an obvious attempt at trickery.

After about five months, I was transferred to the general population. Here, I met some of the biggest criminals including multiple murderers. However, conditions were far better here than on the ninth floor and therefore for myself and my lawyers, the transfer was a relief. I had access to a phone so I was able to call my family. There was a TV, newspapers, a kitchen, and a gym. I was not locked in isolation for 24 hours. I realized that on the ninth floor, I had been treated worse than the biggest criminals in the U.S. I spent six weeks in general population and was given time served by the judge and moved to Passaic County Jail in New Jersey. After two weeks here, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and the Washington Post came to interview me. The same morning at four a.m. the guards took me to a holding cell and at 7 a.m., INS officers escorted me to Newark Airport. I repeatedly asked for my Canadian identification papers, but they never replied. I was put on the plane in my jail clothes only, without papers or money. When I arrived in Toronto, a reporter had to give me a ride to my home. I did not even have the money to make a phone call.

After my arrival in Toronto, I was sick, depressed, and did not have my health card which I needed to visit a doctor. The card had been taken by the INS. I was able to see a nurse with the help of the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty (OCAP); the nurse referred me to a doctor at the community health centre. The doctor informed me that I was suffering from severe anemia and had been exposed to the TB virus in jail. She also referred me to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The doctor concluded that I would not be able to work for two years at least.

My illegal imprisonment in the U.S. was a shattering experience. In a flash, my life was destroyed and I was terrorized for seven months simply because I am from Pakistan. I feel terrified, suffer from flashbacks, anxiety and insecurity. I have lost my self-confidence and most importantly, my ability to concentrate. My work requires a lot of reading which is of course impossible to do if I can’t concentrate.

When I moved to New York, I thought the United States was a democracy with civil liberties for all. What I experienced was the brutality of a ruthless dictatorship.

Return to the Immigrant Detentions stories