"My name is Gilbert." First night in ISD detention

Green beanie used as hood to cover our eyes and ears

Article #4

I was taken in a car. I heard that ISD’s Detention Centre was in Whitley, and I expected to be taken there. But with the hood on, I had no idea where I was.

As I tried to rest my back on the seat, the handcuffs cut into my wrists. I moved my hand to get some space within the cuffs.

“Brother, double lock it” I heard Tim speaking from the front seat.

I heard Roslan’s voice beside me. “It is already locked” I told him.

During the car ride, I tried to console myself. This was a new experience.

“This is interesting” I said to Tim. “Not everyone get to experience this.” He did not respond.

I had no clue how long the ride was or where I was taken. I did not know that Onraet Road was right next to Whitley Road. I knew that Whitley Road was in central Singapore.

When we arrived at the destination, I was escorted to an airconditioned room. As I stood, I felt the hood removed from my face. There was a man in his mid-forties seated in front of me. Several Gurkha police officers, Singaporeans in civilian clothes and the three officers who arrested me were in the room.

My bag and its contents were displayed on the table.

“My name is Gilbert” the seated man said. “I am the superintendent of the detention centre.”

Gilbert showed me the contents of my bag displayed on the table. I was given a pair of brown pyjamas pants and a white T-Shirt with a red line an inch thick across the chest. The red line on white reminded me of the Singapore flag.

But first, I was told to turn around and strip naked with all the officers around me.

I stripped and was told to squat. One of the officers looked below me as I squatted. I was then told to put on the new clothes. I was given sandals.

“There is an intercom in your cell. If you need anything press the intercom. A Gurkha sentry will answer. But you are not allowed to talk to them. Don’t talk to them.”

One of the Gurkha officers noticed I was wearing my wedding ring. He pointed it out to Gilbert.

“Remove your ring.” I gave it to Gilbert.

I was handcuffed again. But this time, my ankles were cuffed too and a chain ran between my hands and ankles. I was then blindfolded with the beanie again. Two Gurkha officers held my arms and led me out.

I was taken into a tiny cell with high ceiling. This was not like anything I had seen in prison shows or from Said Zahari’s descriptions. It was almost totally bare.

The Gurkha officers left the cell with a heavy thump of the hydraulic powered metal door. I looked around me. There was no bed, no mattress, no pillow, no table or chair. Nothing.

I was totally enclosed. Lime green walls on every side. The cell was probably a couple of times larger than an airplane toilet. I took a few steps towards a low wall and peaked behind it. A metal squat toilet was hidden behind that waist high wall.

A metal plate with two buttons and a shower knob was on the wall above the toilet. One button sprayed water from the metal knob. The other flushed the toilet.

I looked up the opposite wall and a closed-circuit camera stared back at me. I turned around to see what else was in the cell.

There was a water bucket, a pail, a water jug, a “Good morning” face towel, plastic cup and soap on the floor. There were also two blankets. That was it.

One blanket would be for me to sleep on. I rolled the other blanket to be my pillow.

It was surreal. What a long day. I had arrived from KL, met relatives in Johor and had planned to meet my mother that night.

Instead, I was made to write my family’s particulars by two immigration officers to waste time as they waited for the ISD to take over.

I had been told that I was saying “Goodbye” to my wife and children, brought to an ISD office where I was screamed at for hours and told to confess to things that were not true. I was arrested, hand cuffed, blindfolded and taken to this detention centre. I was then told to strip naked and squat in front of all the officers before being hand and ankle cuffed again, blindfolded, and now thrown into this small, bare cell.

The air in the cell felt thick. Two fans moved the air from behind bars and metal sheets high on the front and back wall. It felt dead.

I sat on the floor and tried to recollect myself. It was obvious that the ISD was merely looking for an excuse to detain me. They did not allow me any opportunity to answer their questions. They shouted and demanded I agree with their accusations. That was all. They were not interested in my answers.

I thought about Said Zahari and Chia Thye Poh. The Special Branch demanded they admit to being communists. When they refused, they were detained for 17 and 23 years. Would that happen to me too? I knew the ISD and their PAP masters wanted to detain me and it was clear from their actions that they had made the decision.

The only question was: How long would it be?

Continued in the next article.

---