Those were the words of a handcuffed frail young man as he was being shuttled between the court and the detention centre. His distraught mother urged him on, “Lift your hands and show your colleagues [journalists] your handcuffs!” Which he did, repeating, “Merci Maurice!”

The young man was being presented as a very dangerous terrorist. In fact, a kingpin. He was apparently part of an international network that the police were trying to dismantle. He had surely sent an email to the Prime Minister’s Office threatening to blow up the country. Naturally, he was being detained under the Prevention of Terrorism Act and, naturally, he couldn’t be released on bail.

So he was kept in custody for 10 full days, where his public humiliation trips to court and the police ‘revelations’ were interrupted by his efforts to dodge other detainees’ attempts to kill him. “Li meme sa terroriste la. Li le met bom dan nou pays. Nou pik li nou touye li,” some had said.

That terrorist was Ish Sookun, a bright young IT professional who happens to be my colleague. He had never had any trouble with the authorities but, by the time the police and Facebook had finished with him, everyone who crossed his path may have thought about running for their life. It felt very lonely when I questioned the police narrative back then. Today, Ish is a free man, suing the government for quite a few millions.

“Merci Maurice” could also have been uttered by another very bright, not so young gentleman, who had been arrested for money laundering and stealing a safe from the Bank of Mauritius. After a thorough search of his house, he was handcuffed and taken away. A cortege of two lorry-loads of files, including Christmas cards and Rs1 million in foreign currency, which the court later ordered to be returned to its owner, followed in tow and headed for the police headquarters. Everything was captured by the MBC cameras for the evening news. The information about the thief/money launderer was being distilled in such a clever way that the poor guy lost his friends – or got to know the real ones – and many of his relatives. Even his housekeeper resigned, saying she couldn’t work for a thief. That man is called Manou Bheenick, a former central bank governor who, throughout his tenure, made sure our monetary policy was sound and kept our rupee strong through the hardest times. Another claim of a few hundred millions is being disputed in our courts as we speak.

There are more examples, many of which have been documented in Provisional Charges: The Untold Human Stories. Talk to any of these victims and they will tell you that what hurt them most is not the action of the police. It is not the unjustified detention; it is not even the harsh and demeaning treatment the authorities meted out to them. They knew all along that a conviction would require proof, which they were confident didn’t exist. So it was only a question of time before that came to light. What hurt them most was rather the reaction and comments of fellow-citizens; our nasty habit of extrapolating, blowing things out of proportion and gloating at the outcome.

Having said that, there are dozens of cases of genuine offenders led by very competent and honest policemen, being prosecuted in our courts every day. It is not my intention to paint our blue men and women with the same brush. 

Today, as Akil Bissessur, a young lawyer and a fierce critic of the government, is being detained on the grounds of being a drug trafficker forming part of a dangerous network, social media has been turned into an open court where a parallel trial of him and his girlfriend is taking place and exhibits being discussed. This has an air of déjà vu.

While we are trying this couple from the comfort of our lounges, let’s remember that there are only two certainties in this debate. The first is that we don’t know the full facts – facts that would pass muster with a magistrate. I doubt very much that an overnight bag carried by someone sleeping over at his girlfriend’s house would be considered enough evidence. Nor would our great ability to see through opaque materials. The second certainty is that there is a sacred principle of ‘innocent until proven guilty’. The rest is speculation – something that destroys careers, breaks up families and separates friends. Let’s not help towards that, please. 

Merci Maurice!