Survivor of Torture seeks asylum and assistance

by jakanes | May 12, 2009 at 10:40 am
140 views | 2 Recommendations | 1 comment

It has been four years this month since it happen and yet today my life is still a nightmare because of it. I am living in a country were I can not file for refugee status and I have no papers to work. I am scared everyday and survival, even the basics is so damn tenuous.

I am seeking some help from somewhere so that I can began to live this life and move past this nightmare. I am in need of dentistry, medical, counseling, financial assistance and a means of getting to a safe place on the planet.

My Story Follows...

Seeker of

Asylum

June 2008

To whom it may concern: I am an American, a Black male who has had a grossly heinous act of physical torture committed against my person with the knowledge and sanction of my government in front of hundreds of witnesses and yet there are no witnesses to be found. My tormentors face no capture, no charges, no consequences, no arrest… after all they are the CIA.

The United Nations says “the recurring cycle of systemic human rights violations are generating more intractable displacement situations” and such is mine.

In Canada; they face serious challenges to respond to this contemporary situation in accordance to their mandate for refugees and this violates my rights under the Geneva Convention of 1951. This is life threatening for me on all fronts from social (survival) to the physical (threat of death if returned) to the daily mental anguish of a life purposefully destroyed by exterior forces.

The Refugee Protection Law states that “Everyone has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution. Article 14(1) this is what I am asking, the right to go on with my life, free from the fear of being hurt, maimed, or killed by my tormentors. To once again feel safe and free to live a productive life of quality

The United Nations has refused me assistance of any kind over and over, again and again in direct violation of their mandate for refugees, seekers of asylum and those who have been tortured. Therefore I take my case to the world, myself and ask directly for assistance and asylum!

05,05,2005

May 5th 2005, Seattle, Washington USA

I left the house around 6:00 am, on my way to pick up a friend and take him to work. As I walked down the stairs I could see at the end of the street a brand new, bright red Ford pick-up with someone sitting in it, just watching. As I walked down the steps I watched him react to my presence. I got in the car and proceeded towards the freeway; I got onto the entrance ramp going in the opposite direction that I wanted; so I came off at the first exit across the 405 bridge and turned around in the direction from which I had come. I was on the entrance rap when I first noticed that there were vehicles that seem to bee watching me.. As I proceeded to get into the far left lane I saw for certain I was being paced by this purplish blue Hyundai, Elantra. Little did I know that the guy driving it would later be the prosecutor in my cases. I will never forget his face as he smiled fiendishly my way. Looking around me I began to see that I was being followed by several vehicles like they were playing tag with me. My first thought was “why are these people following me”? I came off the freeway at the exit for the Zoo at 45th, which is near my friend’s apartment. I saw clearly that several vehicles were in fact following me and as I drove up 45th Ave; they were even where I was going before I got there. Everywhere I looked there was one or several of them passing me, circling me, and they made no effort to hide what they were doing, in fact they were very overt. I was by this time terribly filled with fear and felt that it was best that I not proceed to my friends as I had no idea who they were, what hey wanted or what they were going to do or could do to me or anyone else that might become involved, so I just kept driving. I continued to drive around the Wallingford area and then around the lake until at some point I pulled into the parking lot of the Post Office and parked. They kept total vigil while I sat there for a few minutes to collect myself. I was a dying carcass and they were the buzzards that were hovering everywhere waiting to pounce. I got out of the car, locked it and began to walk. I walked from one part of the city to another from one area of the city to its opposite and a couple of times I was made to double back as they had blocked or closed a street or road. There were so many different cars following me that at any given moment they were the sum total of the traffic and I began to wonder who they were that they should have so much power as to completely control the traffic on the streets as I walked. At one point I saw a women driving a mini school bus who had earlier been driving a Volvo. She looked at me in exasperation and shook her head in frustration to a comrade. By this time, early afternoon, I was so frightened that I didn’t even want to venture into a store to get something to drink simply because I was uncertain of what they intended, so I gave a guy five bucks to get me a Gator aid while I waited visibly in the street watching them watch me. I am frightened beyond belief at this point. On several occasions I have asked by shouting at hem “why are you following me” “what do you want and who are you”? I never got a response other than one of them shaking their head. At this time I began to recognize faces, different vehicles and yet the same faces. Some of these same faces I would see again as they do this same pursuit seven months later as they run me out of the city with a threat of my death if I ever return and then out of the country. I walked towards downtown Seattle and began to think that it might be possible to loose them up in the rural area around Bothell where there are back woods I was somewhat familiar with. I walked on into Downtown where I could get a bus that would take me the twenty or so miles north to Bothell, by this time it was maybe three in the afternoon and I got a commuter bus going up Lake City Way. I was followed on the bus by individuals, as well as by various vehicles. When the bus reached my destination on the Bothell / Everett Hwy I got off with the Gator aid in hand; while capping it I spilled some. This is the first time that I ever heard them talk as someone said “what’s that in his hand. What’s he spilling on the ground, somebody check that” then a second voice said “ah he’s just tweaking”
This completely frightened me as I had no idea where the voices came from and yet it was as if they were *talking right into my ear. (Please see attachment #1) I walked for several blocks, maybe three or four miles before reaching the outskirts of the wooded area. I could hear them talking still, not in complete sentences but just words here and there, like “ him, he’s going to, not yet, what, wait.” It

seems more today like a tactic that kept the fear whaling up inside of me. I entered the woods and hiked for a little until I ran into what I call a clear water swamp, the next thing I knew I was immersed in it and the water was shoulder high. As I pulled myself upward onto a knoll and out of the water I suddenly realized that it was dead quiet, not one sound did I hear, not an insect, not a bird, nothing! I was now standing in a tree on this rise just above the ground and to the rear (10feet) of a housing development; and in that instant I knew that they wanted to kill me. Anything that I would do would be reason enough. So I stood there in that tree and shouted out to them “hey I know that you want to kill me, I have nothing on me, no knives, no guns, no drugs, no nothing, I’m just a Black boy here in this tree and I got nothing, nothing at all.
Then suddenly around the corner at the end house came a uniformed Snohomish County
Sheriff and five plainclothes officers with deathly scowls on their faces; there were several other plainclothes officers in the surrounding area and lining the street in my view. There had to be easily over a hundred of them including the two who in an hour or so would become the fake Bothell police who handcuff me for my ordeal.
The uniformed officer said to me “what are you doing up there, get down here now!” I said to him as I got down and he reached out to handcuff me, ‘I came through the woods, these guys have been following me all day; who are they, what do they want?”
He said “come with me,” as he guided me via the cuffs to the side of his patrol car. The one Plainclothes who was certainly in charge never said one word to me; he only spoke in whispers to his subordinates and to the uniformed officer.
By this time the uniform officer had removed my wallet from my pocket and was shoving me into he back seat of his cruiser as he and the other officers went through my wallet. There were six of them outside the car with the Uniform having a discussion and making plans for several minutes before the Uniform and the man in charge got in the cruiser. Only the Uniform spoke to me as he ran my drivers license. This took several minutes. My license came back clean and I almost pissed myself with fear.* (Please see attachment #2)
The Uniform as he went through my wallet found my VA identification and a stub from where I had received my pension check, and he was counting the cash I had when he said to me with emphasis “you’re a veteran?” My response “yes I am,” then I said “officer what’s this all about, why are these guys following me?’ He sat there in bewilderment and somberly shook his head. I could plainly see that he was being told to do something that he surely knew was wrong and this was causing him great inner turmoil. After whispered talks with the plainclothes chief, the uniform said to me “your license has come back clean, so we going to take you up here to the bus stop at 124th and Bothell / Everett Hwy so you can get a bus”.
I sat quiet and still as he and the plainclothes continued their very quiet conversation between them; the Uniform was obviously under strain. As we approached the bus stop I said “hey there is the bus stop right there.” the Uniform said “we’ll take you to the one further up the road”. At this point I was trembling with fear. They drove me on down the Bothell / Everett towards the large Fred Meyers there. We were across the hwy from it in the parking lot of 7-11 when the Uniform turned and said “we’re going to let you go here and return your ID, okay”. I said “alright’ as he got out of the car and came around to open the door and release me. I got out of the car he uncuffed me and returned my I D. I looked about and discovered immediately that I was surrounded by plainclothes cops everywhere. I ran into the 7-11 hoping for some kind of help. It was clear that there was no help there for me, so in panic I left and in desperation ran across the street to the large Fred Meyers store. I ran in and looked around to discover that there were at least a hundred plainclothes in the store and they were all unsnapping something on their belts or removing them from their purses. I saw that they were tasers and freaked. I ran too a clerk and asked for the manager and was informed that the manager was off but that assistant would come over in a few minutes. As I looked around freaked at the thought of what might befall me I began to ask anyone for help and to shout in the store “somebody help me, please, help me, the police want to hurt me. Somebody please help me.”
Then the assistant shows up and I am certain that he is not the real asst manager; he informs me that the Police will be here in a few minutes to help me. By now I am wild eyed and scared shitless as I look up and two fake Bothell Police officers come walking through the door heading straight at me. They inform me that they have to escort me from the store or charge me with trespassing as each of them grabs an arm and hauls me to the double doors. I am screaming for help and by the time we are through the doors my hands are cuffed behind my back and there are eight tasers down my back before I hit the ground on my face. They taser me there for a few minutes then place taser disc under my watch and my bracelet and in my socks and they continue to taser me there on the ground face down in front of hundreds of witnesses for well over an hour. It was dusk when they started it was dark when they finished. I lay ther screaming over and over again “help me, please somebody please help me they want to kill me heeeeelllp meeee!!! They tasered my hands over and over, down my back my neck my head my feet my thighs over and over and over and all I could do was scream. There was only one man brave enough to approach them and I heard him say “hey what’s going on here?” and one of them replied;
“Well obviously he has a problem; we have it under control”. Everyone else was kept away by the large contingency of plainclothes officers. Hundreds of people witnessed this and yet their were no witnesses.
After an immeasurable length of time, one of them said to me “we’re going to stand you up now,” and then tied my feet together one across the other and hauled me to my feet by arms and cuffs. During the ordeal they had parked an ambulance within 5 feet of me and there was a gurney right next to me as they stood me up. I continued to scream for my life begging for help as they slammed me to the gurney and eight of them strapped me to it. They loaded me into the back of the ambulance and then one of the fake Bothell police, the big one (now in civilian clothing) climbed in with me seated on my left side. As we drove away he picked up a wooded mallet and began to tap it on my head, telling me how he was going to crush my skull with it. Talked of how he was going to cut off my balls as he played with the scapal.Then he cut my clothes off of me down to nothing and started to taser my genitals and to tell me how he was going to cut hem off. He continued to taser me, hands feet nipples, genitals, everywhere, and play a scalpel over my genitals. They drove me up on some deserted back country road where the only light came from the headlights of their other three vehicles that I could see through the back door of the ambulance as someone opened it. It was the other fake Bothell cop., the tall one. He held a syringe and a plastic bag full of crystal meth. He talked openly with the other one about planting the drugs on me and where would be best. Then he gave me the dose of what was in the syringe and I screamed till I was hoarse. I managed to rip my right arm free of the restraint and that’s when the other one jumped up and said (“strong little fucker isn’t he”) then he pounces on me, his knee in my ribs breaking them. I screamed until I lost consciousness and woke up the next morning in Harborview Hospital in Seattle, WA, strapped to a hospital bed, with an IV in me and a nurse putting a catheter in me. I was in mortal pain, excruciating, I could not move and I could hardly breathe, I felt like I would puncture a lung and there they were; watching me.
The hospital staff had their orders to ignore my broken ribs; they refused to recognize that I had the injury or to treat it. There emphasis was only on the amount of drugs shot into my system and not the frying of my body by thousands of volts and amps of electricity or my broken ribs.
My body, my hands, my feet, my neck, my genitals were swollen from the tasering and resembled dead, swollen meat.
I was being watched from all sides. I could see a small room through the window where they were watching me in shifts and there were those on the floor that had no job other than to watch me. There was one nurse who had the guts to help me the best she could, as quietly as she could. I could see right away that she was battling with them because she was about healing and what these guys wanted was

for me to suffer beyond belief and to lable me a druggie. So against their orders she got the straps removed and in preparation for getting me out of there she filled me full of food. She made me eat two full trays and she found me some clothing as mines had been destroyed.She protected me til I could get out of there. I will always remember this nurse, not her name but her face and her guts. I don’t know her name but her face and her kindness saved me that day. Weather she was real or a plant I will always feel that what she did to help me was genuine. She went and got my property herself, my wallet was there, my money was there over three hundred in cash but they had taken my ID. This was not the first time that they have taken my ID and kept it. As a matter of fact this was the fourth time in the past two years. So my Veterans Administration ID card was gone, my voters registration card and my library card along with a bankcard were gone.
I thanked the nurse, signed out of the hospital with them watching me the whole time and walked out of there under my own power, in tremendous pain. I walked down the hill from the hospital on James Street into downtown where I got a bus over to the Wallingford Post Office where I had left the car. They were still following me, they were everywhere and I was terrified. I got into the vehicle, started it and began the drive home north of the city. I had decided what to do next because from what I could observe this time they meant to take my life. I got home and as I quickly changed clothes I called my attorney who had handled the case of Unfettered Authority. Scott Stafne. I told him that I had to see him right away and that I was leaving the house now and to expect me in however much time it takes to make the drive to his hillside home in Arlington, WA. The drive was eventful as I attempted to stay away from them, while they would do all they could to box me in, to attempt to trap me or force me into an accident of the magnitude that would cause death. I am an excellent driver; and that is all I can say about that. They attempted to ambush me on the country road leading to Scott’s home and I evaded them. They followed me all the way to the private property line (his front gate) and they were everywhere before I got there. Going to Scott’s save my life that day; I am certain of this. That night in the silence of Scotts home built on the side of a mountain in Washington, he fed me, took pictures of my injuries and since my hands were in such terrible condition that I could not write he recorded my statement of what they had done to me.


 Attachment 2

The Reason Why


In the city of Seattle, King county, state of Washington there is a law that gives the police the right to stop you and charge you with anything that they damn well please. This law is used mostly for racial profiling. People referee to this as DWB (driving while Black). As a person of color you can be stopped for any reason and charged with any thing, then jailed at the soul disgression of the police officer; they have unfettered authority.
In December of 2003 I was stopped for DWB and jailed, charged with three counts. The 1st was (lying to an officer in the performance of his duty) because my legal name is only one name as is on my drivers license; the 2nd (driving without a valid license), as the state had illegally revoked my license without going thru the courts and without my knowledge or advising me of such; and the 3rd (speeding, doing 50 in a 35) when I was driving at this speed with the flow of traffic and I was the only Black man in the group of twenty vehicles that passed the officers radar. When I rounded the curve and saw him I knew that he saw me and was coming to get me.
I was in lock up and in court two days later, the prosecuting attorney had asked that I get two years in prison since I had been stopped and charged so often over the years under this unconstitutional law. I have never been in jail for anything in my life except for minor traffic charges.
After two days in jail I went to see a client of mines who is a prominent attorney by the name of Scott E, Stafne After reading the charges he was outraged at them, said that it was bogus and fired off a response to the prosecutor. The Attorney General for the State of Washington called Mr. Stafne five times in the next four days to find out what we were going to do. They knew that we had them for false charges and for illegally revoking my license.
Within a week the state returned my license and expunged my driving record for the past ten years on the condition that I plead guilty to the speeding ticket. I accepted this offer; yet Mr. Stafne was not finished as he found that the law under which I had been arrested over the years was unconstitutional for vagueness and gave the police unfettered authority to do as they pleased. So we continued our legal action against the city, county and state.
Between Jan 2004 and Feb of 2005 I was stopped on seven separate occasions and on three of these stops I was charged with possession of a controlled substance when I POSSESSED NOTHING!!! On no occasion did they show me what they found and it was always after the fact, as I was already in custody when they would call in with another charge of possession; found in a locked car that they had parked and the keys were in my property with me in the police car. So on the 5th of May when they stopped and tortured me these charges were pending (still in the courts) and there was a warrant for my arrest since I had missed a court date while in custody; so when my license came back clean I was scarred to death.
In June of 2004 the Supreme Court of the State of Washington upheld the lower court ruling in my favor and declared the law under which I had been held and charged so many times unconstitutional for vagueness and to be stricken from the state law.
In the U.S. there are civil rights people that watch for such rulings in the courts and publish the results so that all can be aware of the change. In this case there was silence and this gave me great pause. I called the TV, radio and newspapers wondering why they had no interest in this major civil rights ruling. You see that at that time 65% of the people of color who were being detained in the jails were being held under this law. As time went on it became obvious that they (the powers that be) had put a lid on it and they were coming after me with a vengeance.
You have my statement of what happen on he 5th 0f May 2005; on the 7th of May I drove to Portland Oregon to stay with a friend who lived there, in order to get away from all that I was terrified of and

they followed me to Portland.
I had a very large thorn embedded in the palm of my left hand from the woods I was in on the 5th and my ribs were really hurting me, every move was a grimmace, and breathing hurt so I went to the VA Hospital in Portland. It was here that I was arrested on the warrants for the drug charges in Seattle. I spent the next 7 months in jail and was found guilty by a rigged jury of my piers. On one of the charges I was forced to sign a statement that I was guilty or they were going to keep me in jail forever. They made this very clear to me, even my attorney for this case would not stand up for me. I stood in the courtroom howling and crying in defeat of having to admit to crimes that I never committed. There was no one to help me; they made it quite clear that there was no way out and they were going to get what they wanted. I signed.
As a convicted felon in the United States you loose your civil rights and privileges, your ability to travel even outside of your home state and in my case I lost my Veterans pension as well.
Two days later I was finally released after seven months incarceration. Within 12 hours of my release, while driving I found that I was being followed, again, so I kept driving from one end of the state to the other; to scarred to stop or to go to anyone since I had no idea what they would do. On three separate occasions they attempted to take my life. At a gas station I asked one of them why they were following me? His reply was “if we’re following you, you must have done something very bad” This was the only time that anyone spoke to me directly. But the things that they did to me in those two days and the technology that they used against me was right out of FUTURE SHOCK!!! They terrorized me again.
At the end of two days and them talking directly into my ear (see attachment 1) telling me to get out, leave or they would destroy me, I called a friend and asked him to get me a ticket on the train going to the east coast that night and to help me do some banking so that I could leave right away.
I got on the train bound for New York with one suitcase and they followed me, including three of the women that were on one of my juries. In Washington D.C, I got off the train and went to find a cousin who lives there. Mind you that everywhere I went and everyone that I went to see they got there first; and the tables were turned against me. No one wanted to talk to me or to help me. They would all just say that I was crazy. I changed my ticket and headed down the East coast toward North Carolina, looking for somewhere to hold up somewhere to be safe. I ended up going back to West Virginia and staying there for three weeks; (the end of Nov to the middle of Dec 2005).
I left West Virginia because they were using a microwaves on me everyday and every night. Once again they were torturing me. It was so thick and heavy in my room that it just freaked me right out. I had no idea what it was doing to me but the fear kept me from living, from sleeping, I lived in constant terror.
Somewhere around the 15th of Dec 05, I got on a plane and flew to St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands. They followed me but not nearly as heavy as when I was on the mainland. I stayed there for about two weeks and then after meeting the captain of a 70ty foot Catamaran, I sailed out of St Croix on the 1st of Jan 2006 with Charley and his crew to Puerto Rico where I stayed with him and worked on his boat till Aug of 2006. Here I found some small measure of peace and yet no healing from all that had taken place. My life as I had known it had been destroyed and my spirit had been injured in the process.
Charley and company; (Sailing Texan Ltd) were moving their company and boat to Lake Lewiston in Texas. So Charley and I sailed the boat to Galveston, Texas. Those ten days on the water gave me the greatest peace that I had had in quite some time.
I was frightened to be on the mainland again and surveillance once again had begun, with them beaming conversation directly into my ear, during the 5 days that I spent there in Austin with Charley and his family. I had already booked my ticket while in Puerto Rico to fly to Montreal as I knew that I could not stay in the states; after all they had told me in no uncertain terms that they would kill me if I stayed and if I ever returned.
I was in Montreal during the month of August 2006, frightened out of my mind, under surveillance and alone with no papers to be in Canada, after crossing with just a driver’s license. I destroyed all my identification after entry; not wanting to be traced and unsure of what would happen if they found me here as me.
The end of Aug I left Montreal frightened of the constant surveillance, the microwaves and the terror At that time I had no Idea about filing a refugee claim or the dangers inherent in doing that as an American here in Canada.
I feel threatened here in Canada and absolutely, totally unsafe and under surveillance. I always feel that at anytime they could swoop down on me and do anything that they damn well please. Canada is on the list of safe countries for the United Nations and therefore I can not file a claim with the UN that would take me off of this continent, to a country of safety where I can began to live my life in peace and prosperity.

Thank You

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duo

Your story might sound outlandish to many people, and it is, but I believe such things do happen.  I am sorry you are going through such distress and hope that you are helped.  You might want to go online and look for some prisoner activist groups and seek their assistance (just put "prisoner activists" in your browser).  Did you call Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch?  Try NAFPR.  If they cannot help you directly, they have so many contacts.  Mostly, be sure to pray lots!  Do you think it would help to appeal to the CIA office in Seattle or to Atty. Gen. Holder?  I am very distressed for you and pray that those who are angry with you will recognize how much you are suffering and consider it sufficient payment for whatever you did to offend them.  Father, help! 

I understand being followed, but what enabled people to "talk directly into your ear"?  I don't see your explanation for that, and that statement is kind of . . .  If I were you, I would leave that part out when you tell people what you believe happened.  Even if it did happen, it is best to stick to only what is plausable and more easily verifiable.  It casts serious doubt on your entire account, frankly, and might make people wonder if you are a veteran suffering from PTSD.  Are you?

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duo
First Flagged at 7:22 PM, May 20, 2009 by duo

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