Ghassan 'Odeh, contractor

I am a contractor. In early March, I won the tender for cleaning the main road of Huwara, and I began to do the work. More than 30 years ago, I lost a leg in a  traffic accident, and as a result, I have an artificial leg.

Yesterday [4 March], around 2:00 P.M., I was working on the road in Huwara, together with my sons, Mahmud, 30, and Muhammad, 20, and three other workers.  On the side was a truck into which we emptied the dirt. A Border Police jeep suddenly stopped alongside us, and a policeman inside told me, in Arabic, “Move your vehicle away from the road.” Our truck wasn’t bothering cars driving along the road. I told him that the truck was far from the road. “Move it from here,” he replied. I asked Muhammad to move the truck from the road. He moved it about two meters. The policeman said, “Move it further away.” I asked Muhammad to move it. He moved it some more, and the policeman said, “Move it more.” I said, “Where to? So that we can’t work?” He said, “You are forbidden to work, sonofabitch.” I said to him, “You should be ashamed of yourself cursing at me. You’re younger than my sons.” Another policeman in the jeep, who sat next to the driver, said to me, “You sonofabitch” and slapped me.

Four policemen got out of the jeep. One of the policemen who had spoken to me lifted his hand to hit me, and Mahmoud came over and told them, in Arabic, that I was old and disabled, and not to hit me. The policeman said it was forbidden for us to work there. I realized that policemen wanted to make trouble, and was afraid for my sons. I asked them to go home. Our house is close to the road. I remained there with the workers to finish the work. About half an hour later, the policeman who had told me to move the truck asked for my identity card.

Fifteen minutes or so after that, another Border Police jeep pulled up, and four policemen got out. One of them, an officer I think, spoke with me in Arabic. He apparently was Druze. He asked me what happened, and I told him. He asked me where my sons were, and I told him that I asked them to go, so they wouldn’t get into trouble with the policemen. He said, “I want them to come so that we can solve the problem.” I said I’d call them. I called them and asked them to come.

Within a few minutes, Mahmoud and Muhammad arrived. The officer told them to give him their identity cards and asked them what happened earlier. Mahmoud said that the policemen assaulted me and swore at me, and that he shouted at them. The officer also spoke with a few of the workers, and everyone said that the policemen assaulted us, and that we didn't do anything. The officer said, “All right, no problem.” I asked him to give us back our identity cards. The policeman who drove the first jeep, had our ID cards, refused to hand them back and said that he wanted to cause trouble. He took off his helmet and hit the truck with it. The officer and I tried to stop him. He shouted in Hebrew. I didn't understand what he was saying. He slammed the helmet against the lock of the truck’s toolbox. He hit it so hard that the helmet broke.

When Muhammad tried to move him away from the truck, three policemen beat and kicked him. One of them hit him with a wooden club. Mahmoud saw what they were doing to his brother, and he tried to get the policemen off Muhammad. Before he got to the policemen hitting his brother, other policemen grabbed him. They knocked him to the ground, kicked him, and beat him with their rifle butts. The officer tried to get the policemen off him, but they ignored him. I didn't know what to do. I was standing there while policemen were beating my two sons.

In the meantime, some more Border Police jeeps and army jeeps arrived. Lots of people stopped and watched. People tried to get the policemen away from my sons. Muhammad managed to get away, I don’t know how. A Palestinian ambulance arrived. Mahmoud was on the ground. He was unconscious and his head was bleeding. I thought he was dead, and I started to shout, “My son is dead, my son is dead.” The officer grabbed me by the throat and choked me. I saw Mahmoud being put into the ambulance. Policemen cuffed me with plastic cuffs, blindfolded me, and took me to a jeep. I heard gunfire. I think the policemen fired in the air to move people back.

The jeep drove off. A policemen spoke in Hebrew. I didn't understand what he said. He slapped me. The blindfold was very tight, and I thought my head was going to explode. They took me out of the jeep, at I place I didn't know. I said, “My head hurts, take off the blindfold.” Nobody listened to me. A half an hour later, somebody loosened the blindfold, but it still hurt. The pain got worse. I told him it hurt, and I cried out in pain.

About half an hour later, they took me to a doctor, where they removed the blindfold. The doctor examined me. My blood pressure was very high, 230/160 . I told the doctor that I had a problem with my blood pressure. He asked, “What medication do you take?” I told him I didn't know. He said, “I can’t give you medication without knowing what you generally take.” They took me from the room, blindfolded me, and sat me down on the ground.

I stayed like that until 10:30 P.M., when they took me to another place. Later on, I learned they had taken me to the Ariel police station. They removed the cuffs and blindfold and put me in a room, where a policeman named Kamal and Kamil was sitting. He spoke Arabic. He asked me what happened, and I told him. An hour or so later, they took me in a police jeep to the intersection next to the village of Kifl Haris. I called my brother, who came and took me home. I got home about 1:30 A.M. My wife told me that Mahmoud and Muhammad were still at the hospital, where they remained until the afternoon.

Ghassan Mahmoud Salim ‘Odeh, 49, married with eight children, is a contractor and a resident of Huwara in Nablus District. His testimony was given to Salma a-Deba'i at the witness's house on 5 March 2009.