• Home
  • Projects
  • THE RUN
  • About
  • events
  • Shop
  • Contact
  • Blog

.

Mohammed Salim – the Sheriff of Gudaym Izik (Gdeim Izik), by Nick Jubber

7/12/2012

0 Comments

 
One of the activists who had taken part was sitting on the carpet at Abdelhadi’s, the house I went back to after the demonstration on Avenue Smara. He was called Mohammed Salim. I sat down next to him and asked him to tell me about his experience.

‘I loved it there,’ he said.

​He was sitting with his legs stretched out on the woollen rug. Our host was preparing tea, the wash of hot water against the glasses mingling with the crackle of the coals on the stove as we talked.

​‘I was unemployed,’ Mohammed Salim explained. ‘I was unhappy because it’s so hard for us to find work, so I joined the camp. I found freedom there, I was enjoying the desert more than seeing the Moroccan faces around us in the city. I was in the security attachment, I was like a sheriff.
Picture
Saharawis at Gdeim Izik protest camp. Photos from Territorios Ocupados Minuto a Minuto
Picture

​‘On the 28th day, I was woken by the sound of the attack – guns and helicopters, people shouting. I saw the gendarmerie coming in with helmets and plastic shields. There were vehicles all around us – tanks, trucks, everything. It was confusing. You could hear gunshots, you could smell gas. I saw two gendarmerie picking up an old woman and beating her with batons, dragging her by the hair. I saw them grab a woman with an infant and throw her into a truck. They were shouting at us: ‘you dirty Saharawis.’ They called the women bitches. They used shameful words, they didn’t care, they kicked the women with their boots.’

Mohammed Salim managed to jump into a Land Rover and get himself back to Laayoune. But he was so angry about the way the camp had been destroyed that he joined a group of demonstrators protesting outside the central police station.


​‘They didn’t care about our protest,’ he said. ‘They shot six of us, including me. They got me in the shoulder. But they wouldn’t treat me in the hospital so I had to use traditional medicine – hameiria and sheep’s grease – to ease the pain. Can you imagine how much it hurt? I could hardly move my arm. I didn’t get any proper treatment until a year later, when I went on the UN programme to the camps in Algeria and they treated me in the hospital.’
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    JOIN NOW

    Sandblast Blog

    News about Sandblast & Western Sahara

    Archives

    November 2017
    October 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    October 2016
    September 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    December 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    February 2015
    October 2014
    December 2013
    July 2013
    May 2013
    December 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    May 2012
    February 2012
    December 2011
    November 2011
    September 2011
    March 2011
    July 2009
    December 2007
    November 2007

    Categories

    All
    Art
    Art And Human Rights
    Artists
    Better Lives
    Books
    Children
    Cultural Appropriation
    Events
    Film
    Fundraising
    Gdeim Izik
    Human Rights
    Literature
    London
    Morocco
    Music
    Natural Resources
    News
    Newsletter
    Photography
    Poetry
    Political Prisoners
    Press
    Projects
    Recycling
    Run The Sahara
    Saharawi Music
    Saharawi Refugee Camps
    Saint-Exupery
    Stave House In The Sahara
    Stories
    Studio Live
    The Little Prince
    UNHCR
    Western Sahara

    RSS Feed

    Stay in touch with Sandblast!

Subscribe to Newsletter

0044 (0) 7838463310
info@sandblast-arts.org
8 Gravesend Rd, W12 0SZ, London, UK
 
Registered Charity (England and Wales) :1115288
Companies House Registration number : 05397223
  • Home
  • Projects
  • THE RUN
  • About
  • events
  • Shop
  • Contact
  • Blog