Shackled in handcuffs. Knees cramped up against the metal plate separating the front seats from the back. The hard black leather interior providing little comfort as he sat there in his boxers, seeing for the first time what Criminal Cam looks like, the view from the inside of a police cruiser. His body was screaming in pain from being thrown down a flight of stairs by the cops, who gave the impression that they were dealing with a psychopathic convict rather than a small, harmless scientist.
(Not surprising. Seems they like to bully guys who aren't their size. Like this Windsor doctor: http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/story/2011/12/22/windsor-tyceer-abouhassan.html)
Less than five minutes ago, he was standing comfortably inside his own home with his daughter in his arms. Now that seemed like an eternity away. Too much had happened too fast. His hands steadily turned whiter as the flow of blood was stopped by the handcuffs that were squeezed on tight as a bolt. No shoes, no socks, no pants, just the shorts and the T-shirt he was wearing. They could've simply asked him to come with them. Respect some basic humanity. Instead this was like a SWAT Team assault.
Emad (not his real name) had no prior run ins with the law. He had never committed even the smallest of crimes. He was a scientist. He found ways to kill superbugs. He was the expert. His doctoral thesis was on the subject.
Yes, the PhD, it was one of his proudest moments. Check.
Get a great job. Check.
Do ground-breaking research. Check.
Build wealth. Check.
Get married. Check.
Buy a big house. Check
Be happy. Hmm. Huh? Where's the 'check' that should have followed?
Ahhh... thats what Emad himself was pondering.... with all those 'checks', what was he doing in the back of a cruiser? Why wasn't his degree, job or wealth coming to his assistance?
Not to worry. Over the next week he had plenty of time to contemplate that question while he languished in jail. He could have been out on bail the next day, but he had no one to call.
He was stripped of his clothes, subject to a degrading full-body search and thrown inside a cold concrete cell with an open toilet and a frosty steel bed frame. The next day he was transferred to the jail. There, a Muslim inmate gave him a Quran and a Prayer Rug. "For the first time in my life I had lost everything. Those were my only two possessions," he says. Having nowhere or no one to turn to, he finally turned to Allah and began to discover his faith and the meaning of Iman.
This is his story.
to be continued...
