“STOP IT, you are feeling me up!” I cried.
“He doesn’t want me to search him,” said the man in an effete, effeminate voice to his burly supervisor.
“If you cannot search him, he has to go into the small room and we will give him a good search.”
“Okay then,” I managed, “pat me down, but do not feel me up.”
The “officer”, with a leer on his face, proceeded to give me a once- or twice-over. He started at the back of my neck. His hands pressed into my back. My derriere offered stiff resistance, to no avail.
Then his hands tracked my legs inside and out. He knew that I was circumcised. There was a “beatific” smile on his face as if the world was coming to an end. Could it be that I was black and handsome?
I stood with my arms outstretched and my legs wide apart. When he was finished, I asked him softly, as if I was addressing a woman: “Did you enjoy that?”
He made no reply, but looked sated.
I was on my way from London to Paris sometime about 1987. My family and I were catching British Airways and the last call for the flight had echoed over the loudspeakers.
The other members of my family had already been cleared without a search or pat-down. I probably looked suspicious so I had been flagged to one side.
The others were anxiously waiting for me and hoping that I would not blow up at the search they were witnessing. I felt humiliated, but what could I do?
I had heard many stories about the invasiveness of body searches and the prospect of going into a room to be searched sounded like a “body search” with all its implications.
Outside of that occasion I have travelled far and wide for the last 50-odd years and only the usual perfunctory pat-down has been done.
My luggage has been searched sometimes, but generally, especially in the Caribbean, I am waved through by Customs.
However, I have heard horror stories from males and females, from Guyanese, Vincentians and Jamaicans that are alleged to have taken place right here at the Grantley Adams Airport. I go no further.
What are the powers of Customs or Immigration? Can they force you to submit to a body search, including cavities?
Prominent lawyer Garth Patterson, in an article State Rape? stated: “The threshold to justify a search by a customs officer is exceedingly low, namely ‘information’ or ‘reason to suppose’.”
A Customs officer friend of mine told me that some passengers, given a dose of castor oil, have brought forth “fruit of weed”.
He said that one would be surprised what the belly or cavities of a lady can emit in small packets. Some die for the cocaine fix. Therefore there have been experiences of visitors to Barbados breaking the law. This is not confined to Caribbean citizens.
Garth Patterson continued: “In every instance, when confronted with the possibility of such a degrading and humiliating event, he or she should demand to be taken before a magistrate with dispatch.”
One day we woke up and found that the bright lights of Barbados were like a magnet to the eyes of workers having a hard time in their country. Work was flowing and people came.
Reality has now set in; we cannot afford the welfare state and we are going about “chasing away” people from the Caribbean with a mixture of “sound and fury”.
We do not seem to get much in the form of complaints from the tourists, especially the white ones. But you say that is our bread and butter. Sad!
The authorities must clarify whether or not Caribbean citizens entering Barbados must have a visa.
Harry Russell is a banker.
