Bahrain Interview Special: 17 December 2011 --- A Day in the Life of a Protester

This is an interview with a Bahraini protester who lives near Manama. For security, we are withholding information about his whereabouts and identity.  

An account of 17 December 2011, the day after Bahrain's National Day:

He started slowly with details. "We were at a funeral procession, marching toward Budaiya Street [in the capital Manamah], then back to our point of origin in Abu Saiba." They were there to bury the body of a protester who had been killed by the security forces. "The mourners already started setting small tents and protesting on Budayya Street next to a country mall, known for small coffee shops."

I asked what the protesters had brought with them as supplies. "Flowers." he said. Flowers --- the protesters in Bahrain have started to bring them to gatherings to hand them to security forces, in the hope that the gesture of humanity will stop the commission of violence. 

"The protesters were so peaceful; not even blocking the road, allowing cars to move normally," he said. It is an important point: the regime claims that some of the actions of security forces --- even the shooting of protesters with live bullets --- was caused by blockages in February and March. 

"Not even a stone was thrown," he said. But they were being watched. "Tens of police was standing in front of the protesters [as they tried to set up camp]."

The security forces waited for about a half hour as the protesters calmly assembled. "But then suddenly it seems they got the order; they started dispersing the protesters brutally."

He continues, "They started shooting us with tear gas, stun grenades, rubber bullets and bird shotgun pellets. They also had batons and were mercilessly beating protesters." 

The chaos continued for a few seconds before protesters could understand what had happened, but by then, it was too late: "Some protesters were quickly surrounded and beaten, then they were let go." 

What was most disturbing to him was that entire families were present. Women, children, and the elderly had accompanied adult males, but the security forces made no distinction about whom to beat and injure. The birdshot from the guns made it difficult for many protesters to escape --- they would bet hit, fall, and then beaten up. The injured were hastily carried away into houses by other demonstrators: "We can't take them to hospitals for fear of them getting arrested." 

By this point, protesters were further from the police ranks, the security forces started shooting tear gas. The pain caused by the tear gas forced some protesters to hide in the mall.  "Several people I saw were having trouble breathing. Many, including myself, started suffocating. I was in the middle of a cloud of tear gas." 

I asked him to describe how the tear gas felt. 

"Actually, I don't call it tear gas. This is toxic! It doesn't just make your tears fall, but your whole face, even your body is burning when you are hit with it."

And when they couldn't take it anymore, they ran.  He saw mothers holding their children and trying to get to the safety of the mall, suffocating from the tear gas fumes. But there was no respite: "Women, kids, men were all besieged in that mall. Some of the women and even children got tear gassed as well."  

"Some protesters were bleeding. Others were trying to help them; to give them first aid. They were shooting like they wanted to kill not injure. Everybody had to run." 

So they ran some more. IIf they couldn't run after being shot with stun guns and rubber bullets, others picked them up and ran for them. 

He hid in the house of a stranger --- since the protests began, families have been taking in injured and suffocating protesters as guests for a few hours, hoping to save them from getting arrested. After a few hours, he left for his own house back to his village.

But the repression didn't end there. Our interview began as he had just returned home along with other protesters, but they had been followed by security forces. Armed with stun guns and rubber bullets, the police shot randomly at homes in the village, including his: "Our house is being targeted along with many civilian houses with toxic gasses," 

I asked him if they were using live ammunition as well.

"No, we are not being shot with live ammo. They want to kill people in a slow way."  

He told me every time they had protested, the police had first dispersed the protesters, then turned their stun guns and stun grenades towards the houses, randomly targeting to terrorise the population. I asked him what he was doing to stop the effects of what he kept calling "toxic gases". 

"We just got used to it." They had covered their faces in milk: "It works really well." 

I asked if there were any children in his house. 

"No, there are no children here. But in houses where there are kids, we cover their faces in milk too. Still, there are some infants and children who have died because of these toxic gases." 

I asked the last, obvious question: was he going to protest the next day? 

"Of course. Every day we protest agains injustice, oppression and dictatorship." 

Then after a brief pause, as if to make sure everyone understood, he calmly added one last word: "Peacefully."