In 2010, Shireen was stopped at a checkpoint in Jerusalem and asked for her ID."I gave the Israeli soldier my ID. He said that I couldn't pass and have to take a detour. I asked for directions. He screamed suddenly and told me I was under arrest for three hours.
They put me inside a small room near the checkpoint with large windows. Later a jeep came and they transferred me to a Jabal al-Mukaber police station. Someone identified himself as an officer. He didn't mention his name. No charges were mentioned. Only that I'll be transferred to Talpiot police station.
In Talpiot they interrogated me and accused me of owning a knife, which I didn't. I was under arrest for 24 hours and would be transferred to Maskobiyeh Detention Center. They handcuffed and blindfolded me. Later on, I realised I was in an interrogation room. They removed the blindfold.
An interrogator said: 'Welcome, we've been expecting you for a long time.' They confined me in a cell. Soldiers came later and told me I'm going to court which was comforting. I knew if I meet a judge I will be released. I did nothing wrong. They took me blindfolded through long corridors. I heard Palestinian detainees calling upon me to remain strong. I was confused. What do they mean? Was I not leaving?
I was alone in the cell, which I believe was underground. I had to go down a very long staircase to reach it. It was very small to fit a person. It had a pit-toilet and a sleeping mat. The smell was horrible. The walls were grey and made out of pointed stones. I hurt myself several times trying to support my back or head.
The orange lights were kept lit all day. The AC was mostly on with full power. I felt like I was in a fridge. My whole body turned blue from the excess chill.
The iron door had a small slot they used to talk to me. They switched me between two cells. I knew that because the door location changed. Sometimes they'd get me to a new cell with the lights off. I couldn't even see my own hand there. So, when I approached the door or the pit-toilet, I end up hitting the wall. Only then did I know they switched the cell. They made my meetings with the lawyer difficult. They'd make him wait for hours falsely claiming I'm being interrogated. Other times they claimed I refused to meet him without informing me. They left me alone while the lawyer was waiting elsewhere. They'd intentionally sit very close to me. They almost stick their mouth to my ear and shout loud. One day the interrogator unchained me and approached. His face was almost glued to mine. I asked him to give me my space. But he told me: 'We're the ones who decide here. You have no personal space. Who do you think you are?'
I pushed him away. Other interrogators rushed in and started shouting. They hit me, tied my hands and legs and blindfolded me, repeatedly dragging me on the floor and slamming me against the wall. They chained me with a leash and said: 'I dealt with the likes of you before. You're rubbish. You're worthless.'
During interrogation I asked for a Quran, a book, a pen. Anything to feel alive. I said I'm on strike until I get my demands. When I finally got the chance to buy a pen, I was so happy. I felt like a kid on New Year. I started to write down everything I experienced. I wrote about finally buying a shampoo to use in my cell. I described to my mum the scarce smell of hygiene. Being a girl in the interrogation, they know honour and reputation is something we highly value. So, they use it against us. They threatened to rape me. A colonel once came to me in the later stages and called me nasty names. He gave details on sexual positions, and that he'd bring his dog to do those things to me. As if to say we are worthless, not human. That we're worthy of dogs.
The detention with all its horrors had a positive side. It allowed me to experience things that detainees may hide. If I go back to being a lawyer or working with children, the cases won't be rumours I merely hear about. I lived through it."
They put me inside a small room near the checkpoint with large windows. Later a jeep came and they transferred me to a Jabal al-Mukaber police station. Someone identified himself as an officer. He didn't mention his name. No charges were mentioned. Only that I'll be transferred to Talpiot police station.
In Talpiot they interrogated me and accused me of owning a knife, which I didn't. I was under arrest for 24 hours and would be transferred to Maskobiyeh Detention Center. They handcuffed and blindfolded me. Later on, I realised I was in an interrogation room. They removed the blindfold.
An interrogator said: 'Welcome, we've been expecting you for a long time.' They confined me in a cell. Soldiers came later and told me I'm going to court which was comforting. I knew if I meet a judge I will be released. I did nothing wrong. They took me blindfolded through long corridors. I heard Palestinian detainees calling upon me to remain strong. I was confused. What do they mean? Was I not leaving?
I was alone in the cell, which I believe was underground. I had to go down a very long staircase to reach it. It was very small to fit a person. It had a pit-toilet and a sleeping mat. The smell was horrible. The walls were grey and made out of pointed stones. I hurt myself several times trying to support my back or head.
The orange lights were kept lit all day. The AC was mostly on with full power. I felt like I was in a fridge. My whole body turned blue from the excess chill.
The iron door had a small slot they used to talk to me. They switched me between two cells. I knew that because the door location changed. Sometimes they'd get me to a new cell with the lights off. I couldn't even see my own hand there. So, when I approached the door or the pit-toilet, I end up hitting the wall. Only then did I know they switched the cell. They made my meetings with the lawyer difficult. They'd make him wait for hours falsely claiming I'm being interrogated. Other times they claimed I refused to meet him without informing me. They left me alone while the lawyer was waiting elsewhere. They'd intentionally sit very close to me. They almost stick their mouth to my ear and shout loud. One day the interrogator unchained me and approached. His face was almost glued to mine. I asked him to give me my space. But he told me: 'We're the ones who decide here. You have no personal space. Who do you think you are?'
I pushed him away. Other interrogators rushed in and started shouting. They hit me, tied my hands and legs and blindfolded me, repeatedly dragging me on the floor and slamming me against the wall. They chained me with a leash and said: 'I dealt with the likes of you before. You're rubbish. You're worthless.'
During interrogation I asked for a Quran, a book, a pen. Anything to feel alive. I said I'm on strike until I get my demands. When I finally got the chance to buy a pen, I was so happy. I felt like a kid on New Year. I started to write down everything I experienced. I wrote about finally buying a shampoo to use in my cell. I described to my mum the scarce smell of hygiene. Being a girl in the interrogation, they know honour and reputation is something we highly value. So, they use it against us. They threatened to rape me. A colonel once came to me in the later stages and called me nasty names. He gave details on sexual positions, and that he'd bring his dog to do those things to me. As if to say we are worthless, not human. That we're worthy of dogs.
The detention with all its horrors had a positive side. It allowed me to experience things that detainees may hide. If I go back to being a lawyer or working with children, the cases won't be rumours I merely hear about. I lived through it."