THE LAW
This year, 2007, on January 11 at four a.m., I was on my way back home in a taxi from a friend’s birthday party. A police car stopped us. There was an officer inside and two younger police also. The officer got out of the car and asked the taxi driver for his license. The officer found the driver’s license had expired. He came to the back and asked me for my ID. I showed it to him. He asked for my residency permit. I told him it is attached to my husband’s ID. He told me I had to get out and go to the police station to answer questions, and then I could go home. He put me in the police truck. Only the officer would talk to me. The other two looked nervous. I wasn’t nervous.
I sat in the middle seat and one man was on either side. The officer said to me, “Listen, I got you in this car because I like you.”
I did not expect him to say that. I respected him because, when he was asking for my identification, he seemed very professional. I said, “What do you mean that you like me?”
He said, “It means we can be friends, and I can help you with problems, and you will never regret knowing me.”
I told him, “I am sorry, but I am a married woman, so I cannot sleep with you. We can be friends, but we cannot have a relationship.”
He told me we could be friends and talk on the phone, but he would take me to the police station first. I hoped he would just take me to prison for ten minutes then let me go.
They did not take me to the police station. The officer took my hand and put it on his penis. I started shaking. I told him I wanted to go home, but he said, “No, just five minutes, and then we’ll go to the police station.” The officer pulled me to the back of the car, and the other young policemen went up to the front so it was just the officer and me in the back. They drove to a dark area by a bridge. All three left the car and they smoked. Then the officer came back and sat beside me. He said, “I want to sleep with you, and then I can take you home.”
I told him, “No, take me to the police station or leave me here; kill me before you sleep with me.”
He said, “There is no way out. You must sleep with me.”
I said, “I cannot sleep with you because I am on my period.”
He said, “Okay, if you can’t have sex with me, then you can give me oral until I come and that’s it.” He took out his gun and said, “If you don’t do this on your own, you will do it against your will.” He pulled my hair and made me do it.
Then he opened the window to talk to the other guys. There was a box of tissues in the front of the car, so I got some tissues and I wanted to keep some of the officer’s sperm. Then he put on his clothes and he left. He ordered the other two men to do the same to me.
Then the big, fat, lower-ranking policeman. He told me to do the same to him as I had done to the first. He took off his trousers and his underwear. He held me my the neck and he made me do it to him. After the fat one was done, I cleaned the sperm with a tissue and this time I hid it in my shoe.
The fat one left. The third guy was a nice guy. He came in and sat beside me and found me crying in the car. He said, “Don’t cry, I wouldn’t hurt you,” and he didn’t do anything. He sat beside me for about fifteen minutes to make the others think we were doing something, but he didn’t do anything.
The morning was coming. When I saw the place in the light of day, I took note of where I was. The two that abused me went in the front, and the kind one joined me in the back. I had a small black bag with my phone and passport and 440 pounds (US$80). The men in the front took my bag; they took 400 pounds and left me 40. The officer told the man beside me to hail a taxi and pay the driver ten pounds. I told them I wanted my money back, but the officer pulled me out of the car. I shouted and shouted and screamed for my money back. The officers were nervous because the taxi driver was watching. The kind officer went and got my money back and asked me if I was still upset. I told him now. When they drove away, I memorized the five numbers on the license plate of the police car. I thought of their faces again and again so I would not forget them.
I told the taxi driver to take me to the police station in my neighborhood. The driver asked why and I told him. The driver said it would be safer to wait and go with a lawyer. He took me home.
