2-حفلات مديرية امن بغداد

3-حفلات الشعبه الخامسه

 4-سجن رقم واحد والمعمل وابوغريب

 5-محكمة الثوره انجزت هذه الرسوم لاول مره و من الذاكره عام 1990 احداث هذه الرسوم حدثت ما بين عام 1981 و1982 تلك الاحداث هي نتيجة محاولتي للهرب من العراق عام 1981 هذه مقتطفات من تلك الرحله:نشرت في كتاب "رساله الى فان كوخ من الجحيم"عام 2003 “

LETTER TO VAN GOGH FROM HELL" ……I spent twelve days in my own lonely cell, on a naked floor. There was torture daily and my feet swelled to twice their size from beatings on the sole of my feet. We were then moved to another prison at the Headquarters of Ramadi. We arrived at about 12.00 am - the torture started again. I was hung by my two hands from the roof of a toilet and continuously hit. At about 7.00 PM they let me down and gave me a roll with egg. I was using my right hand and the guard watched me. He said “Your hand looks fine after the torture.” So next, he proceeded to beat my right hand with a thick stick until it swelled up and then told me to go on with my food. My blindfold was taken off. I opened my eyes and saw my friend sitting in pain in the other corner of the toilet. The floor was very cold and we stayed there in that toilet for over three days, our hands tied and eyes blindfolded all that time. Every five minutes we would hear a guard coming to urinate. The more humane of them would not beat us but clean their shoes on our bodies! We were then moved to the ground floor where we saw different sights of horror - some people hanging from the walls, others tied to pipes and more lying on the floor moaning in pain. Everyone was handcuffed. They were told not to talk to us at all but they soon began to ask us questions about why we were here, about the outside world and the situation in the war. We asked them questions too, about why they were here, how long they had been here and when they would be getting out. Some of them had been in this hole for ninety days; some sixty days and others had managed to get out in less than forty days. I thought of forty days in this place like forty years. It was so small and dirty; you could go to the toilet only at certain times, faced continuous torture and were fed very little. After about two hours somebody came in and called our names to get up, we were blindfolded and taken outside. The breeze on our faces felt like something from heaven. Next, we were pushed into a car. Some two hours later, we arrived in Baghdad. We could not see anything during the journey, only hear noises. As my nose is big, I was lucky in that if I looked down, I could see my shoes and some slight light. I was thankful to my nose! Here we were asked general questions - names, addresses etc. Then as far as I know we were handed to different guards and moved to a different part of the headquarters by an electric lift. Somebody told the guard to put us in room no. 2. The door was slammed and we remained here for a while. Our hands were still tied but we could now see. I opened my eyes and saw the most miserable and sad looking people around me. The only smell in the room was from their bodies. I spotted someone who was very lucky. He has very small hands and could slip them out of his handcuffs allowing him to sleep comfortably at night. We watched him, all feeling a little envious. I was happy that I did not smoke at this time. When it came to toilet time, which was twice a day, prisoners searched the dustbins for cigarette ends - some would be lucky and find one. They used to say that when they got out of prison they would go to a bar, collect all the cigarette ends there and make a party with them. I was soon called for interrogation and asked many questions - Why had I gone to Al-kaim and if I had planned to go to Syria, what was my relationship with the religious group called Alda’awa and the Communist Party in Iraq, did I have friends or family in Syria, was I still painting and reading books against the Government, why did I always speak badly of the President and was I in love with the Iranian Government because I was a Shia Muslim. They also showed me a list of names and asked me if I knew any of them and they wanted to know how I managed to obtain a false Certificate of Leave from the army and how I managed to get the money, and many more things, which I will talk about in the future. (What were all these charges against me? I could be executed a hundred times over. These thoughts tortured me.) After further fruitless questioning, I was taken back to room No. 2 where I had been before. At nighttime a guard came in to check the numbers and names of the prisoners. I recognized some of the names from my city. The next day I was called again for another interrogation. (My hands were still in handcuffs and I thought of them now as my hated lover). Somebody came in to question me more and see if I would admit to anything yet and once more torture followed. I will call these periods of torture my “parties”. They could not get me to admit to anything and a guard was finally ordered to take me down to another place. I was taken to a store underground - I was lucky, looking down my blindfold I was able to observe some things. I could see the bottom of shelves containing files, which I presumed contained details and information about prisoners and people in Iraq. I could also see the bottom of a large trolley and the legs of men around it. (I thought to myself, this is my end, I will be killed. In spite of the horrifying feeling of fear, I felt proud compared to these cowardly guards. I was only one very weak and tired man and it took six or more of these guards, who I could tell from the size of their legs were twice the size of me, to do this to me). Next, someone with a strong voice told me if I did not admit to anything I would not like what happened to me. He would make me copy all the voices of the animals and he then struck me with his huge hand and my left ear rang with the force. (I remembered my mother used to tell me that when your left ear rang like this it meant good luck would come. At this moment I thought of her words but found it impossible to believe that any luck would come to me under these circumstances). From the way this man spoke to the other guards I knew he was the boss. He ordered the guards to lift me onto the trolley. (For the first moment I thought that they were going to butcher me on this trolley). Then two guards lifted me up. (I thought this was very nice of them but where were they going to take me? Maybe I will be good feast for these animals but I am so thin this would not be possible)! One guard undid my handcuffs then pulled my hands behind my back and put the handcuffs back on so tight to make sure my hands would not become free. I was then carried to hell - yes it was hell. I was hung from the roof by my hands, which were now at my back. My head and legs fell towards the floor and two men came towards me, saying, “You still won’t admit to anything?” The trolley was pulled from beneath me and an agonizing pain shot through my body. I could feel the pain inside me and could hear the sound of my muscles stretching. My arms felt like they were being slowly pulled from their sockets. (I thought hanging was more merciful than this. At least it was quick without screams and this horrendous pain). My reaction to all this pain was loud screams and I then realized what he had meant when he said I would copy all the voices of the animals. I lost consciousness. At least in this state there were no screams but the pain was still in my body. I was not aware of time - all time had changed for me and not just by speed as Einstein said. The trolley was pushed back under my body and I was splashed with water. They then continued with the same questioning, still asking me to admit. I still gave them the same answer and the trolley was pulled away again. The party started once more with the same questions, answers and screams. Suddenly someone came running towards us and told the guard that a visitor had arrived at the headquarters. They stopped then, as they did not want this person to hear my screams. The table was put back beneath me. (At that moment, I remembered again what my mother told me about my ear ringing. I had been brought luck after all). The guards then left the boss and me told I that I would stay there until the Death Palm grew in my head. I could rest a little bit now. I began to think of my mother, who was nearest to my heart. I remembered her sad tired face and all its lines caused by her hard life bringing me up all those years into manhood and now these dogs were trying to destroy all her great work of love. I also remembered the beautiful smell of the country from the end of her coat. I thought, what crime have I committed? Is it my desire for a humane and peaceful life and my love of the black color, which contains all the colors? How did my mother remember me now? It would be beautiful if she could not think of me in these terrible circumstances, which no man would be envious of, even a man going to be hanged. Later I heard the sound of shoes approaching. My heart began to beat more rapidly I think, than a bird’s heart in high flight. The guard said to me,” So you still won’t confess?” They pulled the trolley away and the party was repeated yet again. They then placed it back under me and left. I was later released from this torture and when I arrived on this great land again I screamed in a high pitch. Where were my hands? (I had lost all feeling from them and thought they were still up there). The man I thought of as the boss asked the others how my hands were and he was told they were fine! I could only feel something on my back, the handcuffs were then unlocked, and my hands put in front of my body and once again the handcuffs locked. I could feel the weight of them on my body, they were heavy and my arms just lay limp, I had no control over them. The dog then led me away. (I must say the real dog is a very beautiful creature compared to these people and it is a compliment to use this word to describe them. However I could never find a word repulsive enough to describe these creatures). I was then taken back upstairs - not to room No. 2 - they placed me in the corridor. I fell down on the ground and supported my back on the wall. There was somebody beside me and the guard told him to take my blindfold off. I opened my eyes and the first things I looked at were my hands. They looked the same but felt apart from my body. The happiness I felt was great because I could actually see my hands. I would still be able to use them for drawing and that was enough for me. The man beside me reassured me that I would be fine and a few minutes later the dinner was given out. I realized then how long I had been tortured and then unconscious, as I had been called at breakfast. The food they gave us was two eggs and a roll. The guard put it in front of me and the others finished their food. I could not move to eat my food even though I was hungry. In this moment sleep was beautiful thing to me and I also wished I had a pen and paper to record these terrifying and horrific moments I had suffered that day while they were still raw in my mind. Next, the guard returned and asked why I had not eaten my food, he answered for himself saying “Are you on hunger strike?” He then proceeded to kick me with his boots. This was nothing for me now after the great party they had given me that day - this was like a snowball fight. Glaring at him, I told him I could not use my hands. I thought of this man to be the smallest and cheapest thing - I had just come from this great party designed for a king and here this small man was trying to touch me! The man beside me told the guard I had just come from the interrogation. He replied to this by saying I had been “in the jumbo.” I know now why they say you will fly by the jumbo! He was told to feed me, which he did, he was a small and very appealing looking man. He was from Twereej and he had been imprisoned for speaking out against the Government. On finishing my food, toilet time started. My friend told me to get up; I could not manage this myself so he helped me telling me I must go, as there was not another time until morning. (What will I do, I can’t use my hands for anything? I can’t even move my fingers slightly so how will I manage the toilet)? I was shy to ask him to help me to do the toilet but he understood and helped me. I was in this same corridor for three days. I spent most of this time observing my surroundings, the people around thinking and me. Thinking, thinking, thinking. One afternoon they called me again for another interrogation. When I arrived at the stairs, blindfolded again, I was not taken down to that hellhole where I had been before. (Beautiful). This time I was taken up the stairs where I faced the same questions and where I gave them yet again the same answers. (I was very fortunate that none of my friends in this place had given any information about me). There followed a lot of questions about my life from childhood up to that moment. After this, the boss asked the guard to raise my blindfold a little. He then stood up so that I would not see his face and gave me a pen to sign a paper which had a lot of writing on it - I did not know what it said or what I was charged with, I was just told to sign. (It did not matter what was on this paper; this man had the freedom to do anything he wanted). I was struck on the face because I could not use the pen and he imagined I was trying to read what was written, but in fact, my hands felt crippled and it was impossible for me to sign anything. He then took my hand and my fingerprint was used for my signature on many papers. He told the guard to take me away. I felt so happy - maybe all these interrogations had come to an end. It would be beautiful if this were right. On arriving in the main area I was asked where I had been before - I told him room no. 2 - this guard did not realize my friend was in this room. When I entered, all the prisoners greeted me. My friend came and asked me how I was, about the interrogation and also if they had made me sign anything. If so, this meant their investigation was now over. He whispered all this as there may have been a prisoner working with the Government. The guards then took my friend, but he was not given a great party like me. In total we spent fifteen days in the Headquarters of the Secret Police in Baghdad.