G8 BLUES: MY ARREST AND DETENTION FOR TWELVE HOURS BY THE BORDER CONTROL BRIGADE AT SCHIPOL AIRPORT, AMSTERDAM

By 

Oronto Doulgas.

Its 10.12am today the 17th day of July 2001 says the time on my computer. I am sitting on a row of twelve chairs near the immigration office located not too far from Transfer Desk Number 8 at Schilpol Airport, Amsterdam. I am sitting on chair the 12th, counting from my left. I am waiting to be deported to Nigeria where I had flown from three hours earlier. Three hours ago, I was singled out from a row of almost two hundred fellow travelers mostly from Europe and America.

My destination was not the Netherlands. I am supposed to be on my way to Italy and my ticket and boarding papers, which I got from KLM in Lagos, say so. My visa was a SHENGEN as issued from the Italian embassy in Lagos and it is a multiple entry valid till 2002. Final destination on this my one week journey to Italy was Genoa. On arrival in Rome, according to an email I got from Reform the World Bank Campaign, a social and financial watch dog group, I will be met by a Mr. Francesco and taken to the train station where I was to begin a five hours or so journey by train to the ancient city of Genoa. I did not ask whether the person meeting me was Francesco Martone, a friend of ours in the Italian Senate. Ms. Jaroslava Curajacomo who works part time for Greenpeace and the other part for Reform the World Bank Campaign signed the email.

But the journey as you can read is cut short now. I have been told by the bulky hulk of a border brigade official that I will in the next one-hour and half, that is 11:30am, be deported back to my beloved country, Nigeria. The official said I am being returned to Lagos Nigeria because I do not have money.

The road to this decision had started upstairs. I am now downstairs near an outlet where I believe they also have their cell. I have been asked a number of questions while I was up there and I had responded:

"Where are you coming from?"

"Lagos, Nigeria".

"Where are you going?"

"Rome, Italy".

"For business or for pleasure?"

"For business"

"What sort of business?"

"I am an environmental human rights lawyer"

He then punched my name into his computer, looked at me and then said:

"I see. Can you follow me this way please",

I followed him to an office that was located not too far from the long queue of human traffic waiting to be attended to.

He handed me over to a senior person after speaking in Dutch for a few minutes.

"Do you have money?" The senior official asked.

"NO".

"Then how can you support your stay in Italy?"

"I am being met at the airport and monies sufficient to keep me there will be given to me. All my expenses is being taken care of", I explained.

"Well, I cannot let you go. You have to get an authorization from Italy or you need to prove that you can support yourself there. Do you have credit cards?"

"No, I don't", I answered.

At this point he asked whether I have a letter of guarantee from my host in Italy that all my expenses will be met.

I said I do not have.

I showed them an email that explained that all my expenses will be paid and that on arrival a Francesco will meet me and give me some money for my upkeep and also for my train ticket to Genoa.

It did not work. In fact he did not collect the letter from me, let alone give a glance to the paper I was tendering. The authorities seem to have made up their minds that since I have no money and no guarantee, the only place fit for me is back home.

As a last ditch effort I brought out and flashed a cash card from my student account in Britain. I was sure that there was at least five hundred pounds in there, and if push comes to shove and they decide to use their hi-tech to check this out they may let me go.

But the bankcard seems to have infuriated the senior official the more. I saw creases of a frown gather on his brow. I saw his lip move as if he wants to say something. I quickly explained that I was NOT coming to Holland and that I am only changing planes. I asked him to look at my papers, now in his hand, and in particular the boarding pass and my return ticket. He simply ignored my request. I looked around to see whether I had taken the wrong turn and was attempting to enter Holland. No, to get to gate C7 where my plane was waiting I had to pass this border post because of some engineering or something. I have passed through this airport countless times and I can say I know my way around.

I ventured again to explain the urgency of my situation that my flight to Rome leaves in less than thirty minutes! The KLM Lagos flight 0588 had arrived 6:30am at Gate F. Under normal circumstances, the walk to gate C7 where I was to commence the second phase of the journey may not have taken more than 15 minutes. Here I am waiting to be deported for not having money. He turned to me that if I do not get the authorization faxed to the Border Control Brigade I should be ready to go home.

In my passport was a multiple entry visa to Italy as issued by the Italian embassy, Lagos. In the letter, which, I forwarded to the embassy last Wednesday, Mr.Antonio Tricarico had affirmed that all my expenses would be taken care of. On the strength of the letter and also perhaps because I had not abused Italian hospitality, the visa was issued and our office assistant in Lagos had no problem retrieving my passport and passing it on to a top official of our organization, the ENVIRONMENTAL RIGHTS ACTION/FRIENDS OF THE EARTH NIGERIA in Lagos. It never crossed my mind that the Dutch whom I wasn't visiting but passing through her airport would make the same demands before they can let me through to their KLM plane that was to take me to Rome. I suspected that my interrogators might not have patience with my outspokenness. I became concerned that my confidence may be misinterpreted as arrogance and I demanded to see their chief.

"I am the chief", my main interrogator said.

"Yes, he is the chief, another pointed out".

I was stuck. I saw the game. "You have up to 11:30am to show us that you can support yourself or we have to send you back to where you are coming from", he said in a note of finality.

I began to see the hands of a bigger Esau and the tiny voice of a Jacob. I had been warned by some of my contacts that Shell keeps twenty-four hours surveillance on me. That the company knows when I travel out of the country, the airline I travel with, who I meet, what I do, what I say and who I say it to.

All such information used to be passed to badly paid government officials in the security services especially during the military dictatorship of General Sanni Abacha. I do not know the current situation now. I was particularly shocked, for example, to know that a federal trial judge in my case against Shell over environmental impact assessment knew where I was at any particular time. He took a very personal interest in me and got all information about me even as he was ruling against me for Shell. How he knew where I was I do not know. The matter of my travel was not before him and there was no need for me to be present because my lawyers are there. I was not about to be cross-examined or give evidence!

Such is the power of corporations that I had to ask the border control official whether he was doing the bidding of Shell or what. He denied. He said defensively that he was not working for Shell but the Dutch government and that he was obeying Dutch law. He said that to suggest as I did that he was working for Shell was "insulting". This was good music to me. I said to myself, you mean there are people who feel insulted if you say to them that they are working for Shell? I asked: But does the Schengen agreement authorize you to stop me for not having money? He ignored the question and asked me to go and sit in a row of chairs pending when a decision is reached as to what to do with me.

I ignored his demand.

I needed to make a call. I may not have the opportunity again if I am pushed away from the front desk. I stood there and asked one other official who had been listening to the exchanges if I can make the call. He looked at my main interrogator who simply nodded. I called Amsterdam to speak to Rietje Grit of the Netherlands Committee of the International Union for Nature conservation (NC-IUCN). She was not home. I tried to call Friends of the Earth Netherlands but it was too early. I called Nigeria to report my predicament but the Rev. Nnimmo Bassey, our director, had traveled to a meeting of the Friends of the Earth taking place in Cotonu, Benin Republic. "He is not due back until the next day or may be this evening"? Rev. Nnimmo's environmentalist wife Mrs. Evelyn Bassey informed me. I called England and woke a very senior English barrister Michael Birnbaum from sleep. He listened carefully to my distressing situation and asked me what he should do. I said I was notifying him of my situation. Like all very capable lawyers who know their onions he seemed to be waiting for my instructions. When I was not immediately coming out with what I want him to do, he asked whether I had contacted a lawyer in Holland? I said it is probably too early and that I had called the Dutch lawyer Phon van der Piesen and no luck. I do not have his home number. Barrister Birnbaum requested for the immigration's fax number and I asked them. They gave it to me and I supplied the English lawyer. He promised to fax them a letter saying who I was.

I called Chidi Odinkalu a senior counsel with Interights, a human rights group also in London. Again I woke him up. He listened and just like Michael very carefully. He also asked me what he should do? I told him nothing for now and that I am only notifying him. On second thoughts, I said he might want to notify Olisa Agbakoba, Ayo Obe and our other people in Nigeria. I promised to call him back. I tried to call Italy at least to inform them of the developments. I couldn't get through.

This brings me to what I was going to do in Italy. I was going to Italy to be involved in:

Skill share workshop The G8 summit in Genoa The release of a film on Agip and their activities in my homeland Present a petition to Italian Parliamentarians, on behalf of two communities who claimed to have been treated very badly by Agip. Speak on disappearances that have been linked to Saipem and Agip Speak on human rights violations and the continuing threat to local communal survival by the negative forces of globalisation. Urge the ordinary of people of Italy to join us in our struggle for social and economic justice. Speak on recent activities of Shell in Ogoni, Ijaw, Ikwerre, Itsekiri, Isoko and Urhobo areas where the unabated spills and utilization of military forces had characterized our so-called "democracy". Speak on the recent activities of the World Bank group in Nigeria and elsewhere in West Africa. In this regard, I was to tie up my trip to the USA a few weeks ago with references to the International Finance Corporation (IFC) and Shell alliance in the form of a loan of dubious and dangerous validity. I was determined to speak, and if necessary shout or sing on these matters. I was to join other people of conscience as organized under the Genoa Social Forum to march on the streets of the hometown of Christoforo Colombo also known as Christopher Columbus even as the G8 as led by America meet to speak about world economy, Kyoto, poverty and HIV/Aids.

Our revered Fela Kuti one of the greatest musicians the world had known once proclaimed, "I go shout plenty-O". I was determined to join voices with others to continue the shout until the world listen to our voices and take away this burden from us. The Genoa opportunity cannot be missed. I have been informed that thousands are being turned back from various borders leading to Italy.

In the downstairs area where I have now been consigned, access to telephone was immediately restricted. I do not now know whether my friends in England have tried to reach me.

An official of the border control brigade came down from the office upstairs and handed me a document with my name complete with an official file number 56684/2001 and tiled LEGAL REMEDIES BOOKLET (Engels). The documents read in part:

"You have been refused entry to the Netherlands."

"Your travel documents/identity papers have been confiscated"

The three page document went to say that I can appeal to the "Minister of Justice of the Netherlands under the Aliens Act (Vreemdelingenwet 2000), Article 77 paragraph 1 and that the notice of appeal is to be submitted in duplicate within 4 weeks from the day on which you or your legal representative received the contested decision"

Further more if I do not agree with the decision regarding my documents, which have with all intents and purposes been confiscated, I was at liberty to file a notice of objection to the same minister within 28 days.

The document was signed by one H. van der Laan on the 17th of July 2001.

At this point it dawned on me very shockingly that the Dutch really mean business and that they will really deport me because I had no money or is there another reason?

It was now getting to the allotted time of my promised deportation; I had to act very quickly because they were committed to carrying through this seemingly premeditated programme of targeted humiliation. Ignoring that I had been refused access to phone after the initial access, I ventured to ask one of the official if I could use the phone? He said no but that I can go upstairs and use the public phone. I said I do not have money. He at this stage simply ignored me. The attitude was total contempt. I took the chance and went upstairs; at least it was freedom from their prying eyes. Even if they were watching me from close circuit TV it can be said that my moving away from the particular location where I was allotted was authorized. As I move up the escalator an idea occurred to me: Why not approach KLM service center for a phone? I did and it worked! I told the lady in a voice that may have been interpreted by Chidi Odinkalu as an "O la-la Language" that I am stranded and needed to call Italy and Lagos. She gave me a voucher and said I should go to the "communication center" and call. I called Ike Okonta, an Oxford scholar colleague and again to Micheal Birnbaum. Ike advised that I remain calm. Micheal said he had faxed a letter to them hours ago. I told him they have refused me access to any information, let alone notify me of his fax to them. I called America and left messages in Dana Clark voice mail and also with Daphne Wyshams'. I wanted to call Prof. Watts but the thought of waking up his four-month old baby dissuaded me. I called Damian Lewis and again Chidi and gave him the news of the letter I had just received. I then specifically asked Chidi to call Italy. The numbers were mobile numbers and since Chidi was at home, I was worried that the attendant phone bill may go to jeopardize his survival strategy. He said no problem. I worked on the phone

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until the minutes KLM allotted me were exhausted. I returned to KLM and asked for more, they said no. I went away and sat on some chairs very close to the children's play room. I was there for some minutes and then I returned to KLM and again requested for permission to use the phone. Where am calling, one of them obliged this time.

"Amsterdam", I responded charmingly. Then she asked me to give the number and she dialed and passed it on. It was the number for the office of NC-IUCN. The accountant came on the line and I narrated what happened to me. I asked him to intervene and also to give me the phone numbers for our partner organizations Friends of the Earth Netherlands. He did. I called FoE Netherlands and was lucky to catch Paul who was about going on holidays. He said he may not be able to do much but he will reach our international office for all necessary action and that another colleague of his will take over from wherever he stops. He wants to take off for a well-deserved holiday, for Paul as far as I know has been working since The Hague Cop 6 where we were last year. I suddenly wished I were going on holidays too! He asked if he arranged some money will that solve the problem? I said, it might not be the money. He passed a message to the KLM ladies in Dutch and hung up.

I returned to my allotted place in the "lounge" very close to the border control brigade office downstairs and sat down. What is happening now? Did Chidi reach the Italians? Did Paul call FoE International? What else is Micheal doing on the matter beyond the fax? What of the Americans, any news? I do not know. I was in the dark. The Control Brigade officials refused to talk to me or give me any information when I asked them.

AT 13:20pm a sympathetic official took pity on me and called the main office upstairs where he reported back to me that my deportation has now been postponed to the next day at 2:00pm.When I asked where I was going to sleep, he pointed to the chairs I was allotted and, "lounge". The thought of sleeping on those chairs was not a comforting one. But that my laptop was with me was a consolation. If only I can find a place to put it like a table, I can work until the morning or until such a time my eyes and energy can no longer take the weight of staying awake. Then I hope to collapse in slumber and if I am lucky I can snore to the displeasure of those on duty for the sake of Her majesty the Queen from Royal House of Orange. The Queen with her household is a part owner of the Royal Dutch Shell. Is it possible for my snores to wake Her up? The Dutch love their Queen and if I can displease her, I may displease the border control officials who have captured me like a criminal. I was beginning to get depressed.

At exactly 14:54pm I was handed a fax from Antonio Tricarico! The fax was addressed "To Border Police Schilpol Airport, Mister Poelma, Please forward to "Oronto Douglas, waiting in the international launge to leave to Rome". The letter was a solidarity fax. "Please keep up your spirit", it says. " Oronto, please keep your cool and patient, we are with you in every moment".

I have been patient for eight hours! Antonio is towing the line of Ike in Oxford for patient. They do not want me to give the border people the excuse to do something terrible like beating me up or planting a drug or contraband on me. Stories of how Nigerians and Africans in general are "dealt with" abound. The fax added that they are doing something with the "Italian foreign Ministry at a rather very high level, to push the border police at Rome Fiumicino Airport to fax a letter to the border policy in Amsterdam in wish they take over responsibility for your entry to Italy".

The Antonio fax was reassuring. It was the first piece of evidence that the world is doing something about this matter. The fax from Micheal Birnbaum was not brought to my attention. Perhaps, the age long mutual disrespect between the Dutch and the English was at play? Who is this English man to tell us what to do they may have thought? Several phone calls and at least one personal visit to the airport, I later learnt, were made by people struggling to rescue me from the hands of these border brigadiers.

I sat on the one of the twelve chairs reflecting on the events of the last eight hours. It is now an established fact that majority of us victims (that is those that get singled out of the immigration queues) in countries of Western Europe and America for further interrogation are people from the global hemispheric South, people mostly from Africa, Latin America and parts of Asia. I began to wonder what my fellow countrymen and women go through. Despite my privileges as a lawyer and someone who has traveled quite widely and frequently, if I can be given rough shoulders like this, what then is the fate of our people? The thoughts raced through my mind as torrents flowing furiously from a broken pipe. The gatekeepers of European borders may be hiding under the canopy of colour and geography to carry out these acts of dehumanization. But under whose authority do they act? Are they doing the bidding of their masters in the boardroom of corporations whose progenitors led the visitation on our lands five hundred years ago? When the Dutch East Indies Company roamed the world was it stopped by Visa? When the Royal Niger Company came to Nigeria, who stopped it? Is Shell, Chevron, Agip, Uniliver officials being stopped now? The corporations control government, and governments whether in the Netherlands or Nigeria look the other way or collaborate with the corporations as they unhesitatingly sink their fangs of injustice on the naked skin of the powerless. The true story is this: Having looted the treasures of our land to near satiation, having also now ensured that our remaining resources will continue to be in their hands because of free trade and globalization, they have now thought it wise to impose visas and other forms of restrictions to protect the looted treasures.

At 16:00pm an official came to me to say that the immigration officials have now authorized that I proceed to Rome. I asked if they could arrange to fly me direct to Genoa? The official left to find out and came back and said there was no flight to Genoa. I said what about flying me to Milan or Turin the closest cities to Genoa? Again, he went to a room and came back five minutes later to say that they can fix my flight to Milan. He left to arrange this, came back and said, it was all fine. I gave him Antonio's number so that they can inform him of the flight arrangements. I heard him say to Antonio on the phone: "It is KLM 1631 leaving 18:20pm and arriving 20:05pm at the Malpensa airport Milano".

I told the official that I was hungry and what will they do about it? He said he has instructions to take care of that. So they even knew I was hungry! He left and came back with a food voucher and directed me to a sandwich bar upstairs. My documents, passport and tickets were still with them. I went with the food voucher and was given the option of sandwich and any soft drink that suits my fancy by the attendant. I opted for an orange drink and a wrap of bread and cheese. When I came back, I asked whether an apology was not part of the instruction? He said he has no authority to offer me an apology for the violation of my fundamental rights. He escorted me out of the cubicle next to where I was held and handed me my documents complete with new boarding papers ready for Milan. He pointed me to the direction of Gate D79 and disappeared. I picked my way to the waiting aircraft and was flown to Milan. Martin and Antonio of Reform the World Bank Campaign received me. As we made our way to a pizza hut Antonio said, "we were lucky to pull you in", and that several hundreds coming for the G8 have been turned back.

Its 11:30pm now and I am in Netunno Hotel in Genoa. I threw my rucksack into the wardrobe in room 24 and dashed for the shower.

What a day, I thought, as the water jetted all over me!