A Quite Day in Bani Jamra

Adam Shapiro reports from Bahrain on Day 1 of mission “Perhaps even the torture chambers are on hold this week”.
Frontline Defenders – Jim Loughran’s blog

Walking around in Manama, Bahrain, things seem to be normal. I had been here before and I don’t know that I would necessarily be able to tell the difference, except that in general things seemed quiet. There is a breeze from the Gulf and the boats in the marina bob up and down on the waves. But the quiet is deceptive in Bahrain.

Towards evening I head to the outskirts of the city, to Bidaya Road, which is the main road linking villages on the outskirts of the city. Behind are the bright lights and the shopping malls and the boats. Pulling down the narrower streets, which get narrower the further into the village we drive, I start noticing the graffiti on the walls. Having been born and raised in New York City at the rise of the graffiti era, I find I can easily overlook interesting wall art, or become intensely absorbed in understanding images, words and meanings. However, the writing on these walls, caught my attention not for artistic value or for interesting messaging – I was noticing because the writing was covered up. Literally every word, every image, every number spray painted on a wall had white paint laid over it. Sometimes you could still make out a few letters, or even a word and decipher what was underneath, but it was clear: someone had come to cover up the populist scribbles.

We were in Bani Jamra, a poor village that supported the popular protests calling for reform and democracy in Bahrain. Months after the main protest at the Pearl Roundabout was violently broken up, this village (and dozens of others) face continued collective punishment as almost every night riot police patrolling up and down Bidaya Road respond to popular protest (honking horns, shouting from rooftops, chanting, etc.) with firing rounds of tear gas, rubber bullets and sound grenades into the villages, into homes and into people. The riot police then go after the protesters, entering homes full of women and children and beat and detain young men.

Talking to a human rights defender who had previously attended the 2009 Front Line Dublin Platform, I learned how he was filming one such encounter in his village from his rooftop when one of the tear gas canisters started a fire nearby. He ran over to put out the fire and found himself being shot at and hit in the back by a sound grenade and a rubber bullet. He fell two stories and landed in a heap. Perhaps it was only because he had fallen and must have been seriously injured that the riot police didn’t come to arrest him – they would have to explain this to too many superiors. But Naji could not go to the hospital either, for he knew that it was extremely likely that he would be detained at the hospital as so many others were. So like increasing numbers of Bahrainis he chose to forego the necessary medical care for his broken foot and messed up back which was already problematic due to torture he had experienced during a previous stint in jail on charges stemming from his human rights work. Instead one of a network of underground doctors treated him as best he could at home.

As we drove out of the village we passed 6 Ministry of Interior police SUVs with about 15 riot policemen hanging out at the edge of the village, waiting. Inside the village things were quiet, and our local hosts explained that this was the first time in a long time that the police had not taken action. Perhaps, he joked, it was us – international human rights NGO personnel – who were providing security. Perhaps tonight will be quiet in Bahrain for everyone; perhaps even the torture chambers are on hold this week.

First day in Bahrain, tomorrow a chance to speak to the government. …source