I am in a sort of registration office. Seven men are waiting for me. I must take off all my clothes and remain naked until all personal details about me are written in a big register.

Then it is my bicycles turn; every detail is carefully written down. When they have finished, the responsible shows me a document, hand written in Arabic, tells me to sign it. I have no clue what it is and refuse.

I am scared, will they hit me?

The responsible takes a stamp cushion out of his drawer, then a guard takes my hand, pushes my thumb, first on the cushion and then under the document.

I just signed my first document with my fingerprint. There will be some more. Many. I don’t care.

We enter another office where all my personnel belongings are listed as well. I have to hand over the my necklace and my watch. A last glimpse on it tells me it is 5 o’clock. Then he asks for my wedding ring. I do not want to give it to him, tell him it is too tight, that I cannot take it off. He gets angry, starts shouting looks threatening. Scared again, I hand my ring over to him as well. Once again I sign with my thumb, and then I stuff all my gear back in my bicycle packs, which are sealed. When we are about to leave the room, I notice that I forgot to put my fleece jacket back as well. The guard gets nervous and tells me to take it with me.

Later I will be quite grateful for this...

Out of this office we pass a massive black iron door, and enter a corridor. There are 5 or 6 larger cells on the left side. I cannot see inside; heavy iron plates are welded to the bars. One of the cells is open. I glimpse inside; the cell must have a superficies of twenty square meters. There are about ten men inside, lying on the floor. We pass more cells, and then take the steps to the next floor. I am pushed into the office. There is a bed in the far corner, where the guard on duty is sleeping. He gives some instructions, and after a while I am taken to a cell located at the opposite side of the corridor. Halfway to there I cross another prisoner, blindfolded. Hi was occupying the cell where I am brought now.

My guard pushes me in the room, locks the door.

The walls are painted grey.

Eight neon tubes are flickering 24 hours on 24 hours.

A camera on the wall is watching me

There is no table

No chair

No bed

No toilet

No sink

Four dirty blankets lye on the floor. I collapse over them, and fall asleep for a nightmarish sleep.