Akram Abd al-Azeez Mansour was arrested on 2 August 1979, at the
age of 16. He has been in prison for over 30 years, which makes him the
longest-held prisoner in the West Bank governorate of Qalqiliya. His sister
Amal tells PCHR, “he was sentenced to life for participating in the
Palestinian national struggle. That is not a crime someone should have to spend
his whole life in prison for.”
“At the outbreak of the al-Aqsa Intifada, they began to limit
the visits. Then they said his name had been lost from the computer system and
he had lost his citizenship. How could he have lost his citizenship if he is in
prison and they have his identity card? Because of this, I was unable to visit
him for three years. We received no news during that time.” Akram’s mother
initially visited him, but she and his father, as well as one sister, have
died; Akram was unable to attend their funerals. He has been moved from one
prison to another multiple times, but the last three years he has spent in
Naqab prison, in the Negev desert. “I am the only one who visits him in
Naqab prison, but recently two of our sisters also got permission to see
him.” The last time Amal was scheduled to see her brother was during
Ramadan: “Although I can visit him every month, I couldn’t go then because
it is so hard. I was fasting and the trip is so long and the desert is so hot.
I get so tired even before I see him.”
For Amal, the visits are physically and emotionally strenuous, and
at times humiliating. “Every time we want to visit Akram, we leave the
house early in the morning and take a Red Cross bus to al-Teereh terminal.
Sometimes there are workers in front of us at the checkpoint, making our wait
even longer. One time when I was going with my sister – who has undergone heart
surgery – the computers were not working properly and the doors did not
open. We were trapped in a small room
for three hours, it was very hot. The crowdedness and the heat were very
dangerous for my sister because she has a serious heart condition.”
“During the inspections inside the terminal, they sometimes
take our water from us and throw it away although we need it for our long trip
across the desert. Last time, my sister was taken into a special armored room
for a search. She was ordered to take off her pants but she refused. She was
only going to visit her brother! She was also afraid that there might be
cameras. She was really afraid. She felt like someone who was entering a brothel,
although she was just visiting her brother. It was the first time she faced
such a situation. She was shocked.”
“At the prison, we get searched again, and we wait for a long
time for our names to be called. Once they left us sitting in the hall for
hours – they claimed they had forgotten about us. We really suffer a lot during
these visits. When I finally see Akram, there is thick glass in between us and
a telephone. We speak through the telephone. Some of what he says I hear, but
most of it I can’t understand. But I get shy about constantly asking him to
repeat what he is saying because I am afraid he will be angry or sad. It is a
large hall with the prisoners sitting on one side, and we across from them on
the other side of the glass. Maybe there is a problem with the
telephones.”
Akram’s sentence was altered to 35 years, but a quick release is
vital, says his family: “Akram is very sick. He has ear problems, a
stomach illness, he cannot see on his left eye, and he has been suffering from
severe headaches for years. We hope his released soon, so he can get the
necessary medications once he is out of prison. His illness is serious and we
are afraid. In prison, they only give him Paracetamol.” While the prison
doctor said that Akram would need to get X-rays done to further investigate his
condition, the prison administration continues to delay such medical
examinations: “Every month they promise to get an X-ray done, but then
they say they need to bring in a specialist and re-schedule the appointment for
the following month.” In general, Amal says, the prison conditions are
inhumane: “He is a human being and he is imprisoned in a desert. They do
not eat or drink appropriately for human beings. The tents the prisoners live
in are overcrowded, and often Akram cannot sleep because the others in the tent
stay up at night.”
Four of Akram’s ten sisters are married and live in Jordan. They
visit the West Bank, but leave without being able to see their brother in
prison. “They have even forgotten what he looks like. This is the saddest
thing for us, that they come to visit, but they cannot see him.” After the
family contacted Mahmoud Abbas, the Palestinian President requested that Israel
release 49-year old Akram soon, but nothing has happened so far. The family now
hopes that a prisoner exchange with Gilad Shalit, the Israeli soldier held in
the Gaza Strip, will free Akram. “He wants to be free and see his
relatives. He says if he could be free and live with them for just one day, he
wouldn’t mind if he died the next day! I wonder, isn’t it his right as a human
being to live free like other people in this world? To live and get married and
have children? We have become emotionally exhausted from waiting for so long,
both Akram and us, his family. He has been patient for a long time.”