Dear NOKBEW™ – Blog visitors
Journey into Disaster
I proudly present chapter
3.03. The major
The major of the police station visits Thomas Heger at the cell.
I get down back on the bed. Not a minute goes by when the gate of the wire fence creaks pathetically. I jump up exactly at the right moment. I am standing at the lattice door. Idi Amin stands in the middle of his two subordinates. Dark, almost black skin, bloated face, huge peaked cap with a red ribbon, but the major does not measure more than 1.65 meters.
He speaks broken English. His voice is deep and stern: “Name?”
I salute and stand erect like a soldier, although I’m thinking that strikes me as silly. “Thomas Heger!” I answer.
The officer on his right repeats: “Thomas Heger, sir.”
I repeat breathlessly: “Thomas Heger, sir!”
“Why are you here?”
I’m talking like a machine-gun: “Sir, we just wanted to stay one night only in the hotel, and immediately back to our hometown the next morning. I had the permission of the parents. We want to buy school supplies…”
The major seems to be annoyed: “Answer only my question.”
I’m confused and have no answer.
The officer on the right opens a thin white folder made of cardboard and reads in military style and much too loud: “Republic Act 7610, child abuse, sir! Boys, Sir!”
He closes the folder. All three policemen nod with disgusted expressions on their faces. The corners of the mouth pull down, their eyes are narrowed. Without saying any word, the officers and the major turn left as if on orders and have already disappeared to the next cell.
Confused, I sit on the bed. Unknown female and male officers stare at me. I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable. They whisper about me in front of the cell. I clearly hear keywords: “German national, hotel, five little Filipino boys, semi-nude, rescued, TV, BSWD, child abuse, 7610”
Policewomen open their mouths at the information, gawk at me in horror or in disbelief.
It’s like in the zoo. I’m in the cage and outside the spectators and visitors. The attraction is a white child-eating monster.
My annoyance turns into aggression and immediately into anger. They’re making me to a perpetrator, a monster. it screams inside me: I have to do something, finally defend myself!
I whisper desperately: “But how? I’m in the dungeon.”
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