Thread by @Ame0baRepublic

I left my house for two minutes.
And two minutes was all it took.

#Arrest #Immigration #PoliceBrutality

If you're thinking about traveling or living in #Morocco, but have the audacity to do it while black, read this first:

On March 21st, 2019, at about 7:45pm, I left my apartment in Rabat, Morocco to buy some wine before the store closed. I passed by my roommate on the way there, and told her I'd be back. I did not come back.

When I reached a roundabout right up the street, a strange man repeated, "Bonjour" to me. Many people constantly sell things here, so I ignored him. But he got closer and eventually grabbed my shoulder and then grabbed my chest.

He started to fire off questions about where I was from, where I lived, and where my passport was. I was unaware of his identity, because he was not wearing a uniform, and neither was his buddy.

He eventually identified himself as police.

He asked where I lived. I said Bab Chellah. He asked where my passport was. I said at home. He asked where I was from. I said USA.

And then he asked those same questions over and over.

I became frustrated, because I had already told him. Though I didn't have my passport, I showed him my license. He did not care. His buddy said, "We're going to take you far away from here."

When I told him I wasn't going anywhere with them, they restrained me and handcuffed me.

They threw me in the back of a police wagon. There were already other passengers inside. I did not have my phone. I had about $10 on me. I did not know where I was going.

We arrived at a police station in a nearby neighborhood (Agdal). To this day, I am uncertain exactly where.

They uncuffed me and put me in the lobby with 30 to 40 other people — teens to men — all black. The lobby was filthy and they didn't turn on the lights when it got dark.

We waited for about an hour until some men called us in groups into a room.

When they asked me where I was from, I said, "America." They laughed and said, "No, where are you really from." I said New York. They asked about my parents. I said North Carolina and Alabama.

The implication was clear.

They took my fingerprints. They took my mugshot. One of the men asked if I spoke Arabic. I said no. He told me I did.

Another looked at me directly and simply said, "Terrorist." I said, "No, I'm not." He said, "Boko Haram."

Fun fact: Not a terrorist group in Morocco.

After that, we waited for longer, and then military men came to the station. They grabbed us all roughly and put us on a tour bus and drove.

I kept mark of every landmark I could identify, until we got on the highway.

I sat next to the only Moroccan on the bus. He spoke a little English, but he said he didn't know where we were going, either. He thought probably jail.

During the trip, the military men got violent.

Some teens were complaining about the bus being cold or having no food. The men beat them with batons or they stabbed people in the ribs with them. If anyone attempted to protect another, they were also beaten.

An old and drunk blind man wouldn't be quiet, so they tried to shake him until he was. I tried to ask the head any information about anything, but he refused to answer me.

I also asked him for a phone. He said he didn't have service.

Eventually, we arrived. The bus stopped, they told us to get off, and left us in the small town of Beni-Mellal — 3 to 3.5 hours away from Rabat.

And they just left. At no point had they explained why they arrested me, why they took us to Beni-Mellal, or why they let me go. Nothing.

I took a bus to Rabat for $6. I assume the guys w/o money didn't. I returned to my house at about 8am, & stayed there for the next 4 months.

I tried not to leave my house. I always carried my passport. If the police were walking, I chose the other side of the sidewalk. If they were circling their wagons, I waited until they left to keep walking.

I acted like I was fine. I don't think I realized I wasn't.

I overstayed my visa by a little more than a month bc I wanted as little contact w/authorities as possible, and now the country will not let me leave. When I tried to on August 20, border control sent me to the central police station in Tanger.

I was told they were on holiday.

My host mom knew the process, and so helped me draft a letter of residency. The head of the Tanger office refused it because it was from Rabat.

When I produced a letter from my host family in Tanger, he refused to process it, saying I had to go back to Rabat.

In Rabat, the head of the office said I had to wait all the way until September 10 for a hearing with a judge and that I had to bring a lawyer.

He yelled at me & sent me away from the office four times without ever accepting the many documents he requested.

When I brought a friend to the station to explain my story, the office worker said, "Oh, if he was arrested, then he must've done something wrong."

When I asked why the wait was so long, his answer was that the prosecutor only sees four people per day.

And so far, the embassy has not helped because they "cannot."

When I was arrested, they did nothing, and only directed me to a website with potential lawyers that they claim they are unable to recommend, only capable of furnishing a list of options.

It is now August 30th and Morocco will still not let me leave the country. I'm not sure when it is that they think someone has suffered enough for a minor indiscretion that they indirectly caused, but it's not now.

The disrespect from immigration offices, the victim-blaming, and the color of every single person visiting the immigration offices every day is not incidental, and it's not lost on me.

You might think, "Hey, you're American. Use X resource!" but you're missing the point.

What gives anyone the right to treat people who are not American this way?

No one should be treated like this, and when it happens to you, you're not confused about why.

Think about that before you book that plane ticket.

Thanks, @AidaAlami for listening to this story.

@AidaAlami I'll add one note: I am not here to correct anyone's impression of me. I am so grateful for those who are reaching out with support and I thank you deeply.

For those with criticism: The story is mine. What you take from it is yours. It is not up to me. All the best. 👍