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‘FIVE YEARS LATER… but who’s counting?’ …by H. Candace Gorman, Esq.

January 11, 2007

I found this article at from an attorney who is representing a man determined to be a non-enemy combatant, but they still keep him in hell.
FIVE YEARS LATER… but who’s counting?‘ …by H. Candace Gorman, Esq.

I know Mr. Al-Ghizzawi is counting, as are the 400 other men sitting in the wretched heat at Guantanamo bay Cuba. The expression “time flies” has no meaning to these men. At Guantanamo Bay time does not fly, it drags on, in a dry, cruel and sadistic way.

The first time I went to the base my client had already been there more than four years. The first part of his detention was spent in a cage with a strip of concrete around the sand floor. It was open to the elements: be it sun, rain, cold, or the occasional hurricane. The hovel erected by our government to house human beings looked like the animal shelter where we picked out a dog some years back, only our dog had a little covered corner where she could get away from the weather.

Mr. Al-Ghizzawi and the other men were eventually “upgraded” to the facilities they are currently living in. Now they have walls, a roof and barred windows. They have air conditioning and concrete floors. Everyday the air conditioning is blasting cold air on poor frail Mr. Al-Ghizzawi. He has no blanket (blankets are not allowed). Instead he has a plastic “thing” to cover himself with. This plastic “thing” is cold when it is cold and hot when it is hot. It is never washed and it stinks.

But the floors are washed. Everyday gallons of a pine sol like substance are thrown on the floors and the men are forced to breath in the fumes for hours until someone gets around to hosing the solvent off the door. Mr. Al-Ghizzawi described how his eyes and throat burn and how he coughs and gags, every day. Unfortunately, some of the guards laugh at the discomfort that this causes the men. Some even leave buckets with the solvent under the open windows so that Mr. Al-Ghizzawi and the other men are forced to continue breathing in the fumes all day and/or night. These men sit in their tiny cell: day after day, week after week, year after year. They have nothing to occupy their time.

The rest is : ‘FIVE YEARS LATER… but who’s counting?’ …by H. Candace Gorman, Esq.
H. Candace Gorman’s blog about gitmo.


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