witnesses said the nine, several of whom are from the same extended Dioula family, were captured by a combination of uniformed and plain-clothed policemen. None of the security forces have acknowledged the detentions. One of the witnesses, the wife of one of the victims, described the detention:42 I am the wife of S. We have a four-year-old child and I’m nine months pregnant with our second. My husband is Ivorian as are all of those taken that day. They weren’t involved in politics; they are long distance truck drivers and didn’t have time for that. We are one of the few Dioula families living within our immediate area; there are Baoules, Betes, and Agnis around us. Maybe that’s why they targeted us. The whole thing happened in less than five minutes. It was around 3:40 p.m. on October 26. I heard a knock on the door to the compound, and we heard them say, ‘It’s the police and if you don’t open, we’ll kill you all.’ Then my husband opened the door and eight of them stormed into the family compound. Some, I think three, were in T-shirts and jeans and others were in combats. All of them had pistols except the boss; he had a long gun. The boss did most of the talking. He was in a ski mask and seemed really nervous. He told them to take their shirts off and threatened to kill us all. There was a handicapped man in one of the rooms in the compound and when his children started crying, the boss said he should be left alone. He was the only man they left. Then our men were ordered to move out of the house and we [the wives] started crying and begging them to leave our husbands. Outside we saw there was a mini-bus and I saw what I think were three other prisoners inside. A few of them were bleeding. I wouldn’t leave my husband and followed him as he and the others were led outside. I asked, ‘why are you taking them, what have they done?’ And one of them said, ‘you people are Dioula, just wait and see what we’ll do to you. You should stop following Alassane.’ Another who spoke Dioula said, ‘don’t worry, we’ll make them suffer a little and then bring them back.’ I was crying and wouldn’t let go of the back of the mini-bus as my husband got inside. I begged them to tell me where he was being taken, but one of the police pushed me hard and said I asked too many questions. The mother of a twenty-eight-year-old man who was dragged out of the family home in Abobo by paramilitary gendarmes described what happened:43 On Thursday, there were a lot of problems in Abobo so we’d closed the door to the compound. Between 1:00 and 1:30 p.m. the gendarmes came and took my son. We heard a knock on our door and seven of them forced their way into the compound yelling at everyone to get out. Some had anti-riot gear and I can’t remember what they were dressed in or much of what they said. All I knew was they were taking my son. Then they dragged him away; they didn’t even ask for his papers. I begged for him and as three of the gendarmes dragged him out of our house and up the street I followed them pleading for them to leave him. I stayed with them until we reached the corner [about 300 meters] and then they told me to go back. I refused but they said that if I don’t go back they’d kill me. They said he had been arrested but didn’t say why. Then they rounded the corner with him and that’s the last time I ever saw him again. He was my first-born. I heard he was put inside a truck with other men but I didn’t see this. We’ve checked all the hospitals, morgues, and prisons again and again but he’s not there. My son was a member of the RDR but he hadn’t participated in any of the marches that day. 42 43 Human Rights Watch interview, Abidjan, November 6, 2000. Human Rights Watch interview, Abidjan, November 18, 2000. Human Rights Watch 24 August 2001, Vol. 13, No. 6(A)