Fiji-Indian. Radical. Forced Migrant. Juris Doctor. Reluctant Dreamer. Aspiring Terrorist. Undocumented. Unafraid. Unapologetic. Unashamed.
It’s been a busy week. The feds put an ankle monitoring bracelet on a dear friend and we’re almost certain they are itching to do it to everyone whose cases are administratively closed at one point or another. I have been seething for the past few days and now I feel sick.
The tracking device needs to be recharged at least 3 hours a day. Imagine being stuck to a wall for that long. You can’t take it off while you shower, sleep or have sex. And it beeps, sending messages like “report to your officer” and “leave the country.”
They blindsided us briefly but I’ve already decided that they would need to do the same to me by force — come to my apartment, break down the door and detain me in one of their early morning Gestapo type raids. I haven’t done anything wrong and putting a tracking device used mostly for serious criminal parolees on me or my friends is the last straw.
Where do they think we are running off to anyway? I wish we could go somewhere else. We are stuck in this goddamn country that we never even chose to come to!