In the second cell, with me, was a former Turkish deputy foreign minister under Ahmet Davutoglu. His arm was broken and swollen; he bandaged it himself, denied any medical care. No medicine for anyone — not even an epileptic prisoner. We protested until consular assistance arrived. The Italian consul asked if we had been abused and said that if we signed the deportation papers, we’d be sent home the next day.
Many agreed to sign, but I don’t know what happened to those who didn’t — fifteen Italians remain imprisoned. I signed: it was a document waiving trial and agreeing to deportation within 72 hours. No admission of guilt.
They held new interrogations. A judge asked questions without a lawyer present. We requested one — they said it wasn’t necessary, “just a chat.” We stayed silent. I only said I was a journalist doing my job and wouldn’t answer further without legal or consular support. They asked why I wanted to go to Gaza, if I didn’t know there was a blockade. Others were asked more “political” questions — about the Muslim Brotherhood.
That night the guards were even more violent. The consul had just left, having gathered more deportation signatures, when special forces burst in. They stormed the cells, pointed rifles at us with laser sights, and called roll. In some cells, they unleashed dogs. In one, they found the word “Palestine” spelled out using scraps of pepper and water. To erase it, they poured bleach on the floor — prisoners slept on mattresses soaked with it.
That night, as punishment, they overcrowded the cells: from ten people to fifteen, leaving no space to lie down. We turned the mattresses sideways so we could all rest our heads. In my cell were Maso Notarianni and a Lombardy Democratic Party councilor, Paolo Romano.
I had the feeling I was in a truly barbaric place, and hoped this barbarity would soon end.
Yesterday morning, very early, they woke us up and loaded us onto the same armored vehicle. We thought we were going to the airport but peered through slits, fearing we might be taken to another detention center.
The trip lasted three hours, unbearably hot. We asked for water — they said we were “almost there.” At Eilat airport, they put us on a plane to Istanbul. There, we were greeted with cheers — Erdogan-style propaganda. A parliamentarian from his party handed out new clothes, shoes, and kefiyehs. That evening we boarded the final flight to Rome."
(Lorenzo D’Agostino
Investigative journalist specializing in border policies)