Sokeina mant Jad Ahlou: currently lives in occupied Smara Western Sahara:
I was kidnapped in a late night hour of November 15th, 1981. I left my children while they were sleeping when men from the Moroccan secret police took me to Laayoun Police station center in occupied Western Sahara , and starting from that night itself, the journey of pain and torture was carried on a daily basis; they hang my four body parts with wooden boards, my face was to the ground, and my legs upwards firmly tighten by a rope and they set me almost naked, then they started beating me continuously and unmercifully with trancheons and electric cables, kicking me with their boots and slapping me with their hands spitting and cursing on me voicing humiliating words and expressions unceaslessly. That sort of torture is called”The helicopter” “chopper”. Besides that harsh unhuman beating, they strangled me with a sweeping cloth that they damped in dirty water mixed with salt and “javel” (a toxic product to whiten the clothes). Later, they used another method of torture which they called the “Roasted chicken” as they tightened me firmly like a roasted chicken in way that I couldn’t move at all,and then started kicking, slapping me using humiliating and dehumanise methods, sometimes, they used bad words and in other times and with a strange feeling of exctasy, they turned my body into a cigarette ashtray, in fact, they put out their cigarettes in very sensible parts of my body. Adding to that, they used to deprive me from sleeping and sometimes from eating and drinking.
This situation continued in the police station for more than a month before they they dispalced me to Dab Moulay Ali shrif in the Moroccan city of Casablanca wher other ways of physical and mental torture had to take place, and later to the horrible prison of Agdez in the eastern Moroccan desertic prison where I shared the horrible tragedy with other Saharawi abducted political prisonners (malnutrition till death, the wide spread of skin deseases with no treatment, beating with the axes trancheons etc…). And after one year, I was dispaced to another desertic prison in the east of Morocco “Kalat Maggona” that was no less horrible than the previous prisons. After I got released in 1991, I got the news of the death of my baby girl that they had kidnapped me from her while she had been sleeping and a few weeks later I was told she died from hunger,and I also found that my children had dropped out of school and my sole male child suffering from a serious psychological clampdown. However, the Moroccan occupying forces didn’t got enough of my torture, they continued harrassing me and they abducted me for the second time in 1992 with my sick son. We spent more than a year of disappearance in the black cells of Laayoun, amongst a dihumanising torture; they beat me while my son heard it in the other prison cell, and they beat my son unmercifully when he protested aganist beating me. I still recall when he said in high tone “Come and beat me, but set my mother free” that was enogh for them to torture him in a very …horrible way.