Soleiman Faqiri, a death that cannot be explained
“Every Canadian family has a Soleiman among them,” says Yusuf Faqiri, arguing that a large number of people in the country suffer from mental health problems like his late brother. However, he hopes that these people will not be incarcerated. “It forced me to act,” he observes. He became an activist following Soleiman's death five years ago. “People with mental illness shouldn't be in prison; they should be in the hospital. Soleiman did not need to be in prison.
This tragedy could have been 100% avoided,” believes Yusuf. Soleiman Faqiri died in 2016 at the hands of correctional services at the Central East Correctional Centre (CECC) in Lindsay, Ontario. He was 30. While in his former province, Yusuf tells us the story of Soli, as the members of his family call him, so as not to repeat it. “Tomorrow, a person's remains will be handed over to his family. That is why we must tell how a 30-year-old man who had his life ahead of him, a brother, a son, a brilliant mind, was murdered, beaten to death.”
Soleiman had been detained for 11 days for reasons beyond his family's control. There were no charges against him. Behind bars, he was waiting for his transfer to a psychiatric institution, which had been granted three days earlier. On December 15, 2016, correctional officers entered the cell where he was staying. Soleiman will not come out alive. In a report published last August, Dr. Michael Pollanen, chief pathologist for the province of Ontario, established that Mr. Faqiri succumbed to his injuries after being held face down and beaten by correctional officers.
“He had 50 bruises on his body, his legs and hands were tied up, he was pepper sprayed twice,” Yusuf said. Two investigations have already been carried out, with no charges being laid. The coroner's office had previously concluded that the cause of Suleiman Faqiri's death was “uncertain.” Following the revelations of this new report, a third investigation, led by the Ontario Provincial Police, is under way. “It was the guards who took his life, not schizophrenia,” says Yusuf Faqiri. For the victim's brother, it's been a constant battle that's been going on since the arrest of his brother Soli. “I also made a promise to myself that I won't let my brother's murder be the last word in his story. That he was more than that, that he was more than his illness. That it was more than just his tragic end,” says Yusuf.
Photo: Courtesy of Yusuf Faqiri
A close-knit family
Yusuf is the eldest in his family, which has five siblings. Soleiman is the youngest, being two years younger than his brother. “We have always had this rivalry between brothers,” Yusuf tells us in an animated manner. He describes his brother as a brilliant man who, unlike him, excelled in school. Soleiman was captain of the soccer team, in addition to playing rugby in high school.
“Those are the things I like to remember,” Yusuf says of his brother. But it wasn't just his talents. He was a very nice man.”
He tells how, when his mother fell ill after the birth of their younger brother, Soleiman, himself a child, changed diapers and prepared baby bottles of formula milk.
Later, the young man taught his mother to read and Yusuf to pray. One of Yusuf's first memories dates back to his early childhood, when he and the family were fleeing the civil war in Afghanistan. Throughout his journey, during which the family had to hide, Yusuf held the hand of his younger brother Soli. The Faqiris took refuge in Canada, and Soleiman and Yusuf grew up in Ontario, in the Durham region.
Photo: Courtesy of Yusuf Faqiri
In 2005, at the age of 19, Soleiman was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Despite the stigma, his family is not giving up. “My mother brought the family together and said, 'You are going to accept my son as he is, '” Yusuf said. It has written Soleiman's personality into her history, before mental illness. She didn't want his illness to define him.” It was this attitude, combined with family support, that allowed the young man to thrive over the next 11 years. “It wasn't perfect, there were challenges,” adds Yusuf, his voice mixed with emotion. What kept him alive for 11 years [after he was diagnosed] was my mom.”
“He was an indispensable member of the family. We became better people because of him,” he testified about what he called a complex man, a son, a brother, a wonderful human being. “And that's what I want the world to remember.” Time goes by, and the wound is still as strong as ever for the Faqiri. “I'm not used to my brother not being there anymore, I have to accept that. I am not going to let the police or the courts have the last word, we will have the last word,” says Yusuf. A few weeks after Soleiman's death, his brother asked a friend for help to create a Facebook page, which they called Justice for Soli. Since then, theOrganization , which he created, travelled across the country to give lectures and gave over a hundred interviews to Canadian media.
“The movement has become much bigger than one might have expected. But that was not our intention,” explains the founder. For him, it is something more than the death of Soleiman. “His case has become a catalyst for instituting change for individuals suffering from mental illness in the prison and police system,” he analyzes. For Yusuf, who is in contact with families and loved ones of victims, this is a systemic problem across the province and country. “Unfortunately, prisons have become the new hospitals,” he says, referring to the lack of resources and support for citizens. “It seems that the lives of people with mental health disorders are worthless.”
Soleiman Faqiri was staying with his sister in Ajax at the time of his arrest. He was alone in his home. The family still doesn't know why he was arrested and why he was taken into custody. “We don't know who called the police,” explains his brother. During the 11 days that Soleiman was detained, the family was never able to see him, despite four visits. “I went there to tell the staff about his mental health condition,” says Yusuf. Three days before Soleiman died, a judge ordered that he be transferred to a psychiatric institution for evaluation and treatment. Yusuf, who testifies during the hearing, sees Soleiman on the screen, with Soleiman attending via video conference. It will be the last time. Two hours after the testimony, the transfer request is made.
“So we all agreed that my brother should not be incarcerated, that he needed care,” says Yusuf. If, later, Soleiman had to wait in custody, it was because there was no bed available. He died three days later. Throughout the detention, the Faqiri family had to scramble for information. “That's how a lot of people end up dying. The system makes no effort to give information to the family. It is a system that is closed in on itself and lacks transparency,” he says of the lack of communication. The only time the authorities spoke to the Faqiri family was when Soleiman died. “Two police officers came and said that Soli died after guards entered his cell,” recalls Yusuf.
Photo: Courtesy of Yusuf Faqiri
Soleiman and the others
Yusuf knows the other cases of people suffering from mental health problems who died in custody in recent years. Last December, the case of Tamara Lucier, 31, brought back a lot of pain. The young woman lost her life while in custody at the South West Detention Centre in Windsor, Ontario, in circumstances that recall the story of Soleiman.
At the time of her death, she was waiting to be treated in a mental institution. There were no charges against her. Yusuf Faqiri also cites Jordan Sheard, Cleve “Cas” Geddes, Ashley Smith, Edward Snowshoe, Moses Beaver, and Justin St. Amour, who lost their lives in custody and were living with mental health issues. It adds the names of Nicholas Gibbs, Regis Korchinski-Paquet, Andrew Loku, and Abdurahman Hassan, people with mental health issues who died during law enforcement interventions. And the list goes on and on.
“There is an intersection between mental illness and correctional services, but also between policing and mental illness, which is fatal,” says Yusuf. “Those in power at all levels of government need to realize that this is a crisis, and that resolving this crisis requires systemic change.”
Based on his research, he estimates that over 100 people with mental health problems have died in federal and provincial prisons. There are no figures on this subject — a trend that can be seen at other levels of prison services. When asked about this, the Correctional Service of Canada (CSC) told us that they did not have data on the number of deaths of inmates suffering from mental health problems. One Report on violence in correctional institutions in Ontario, published in 2018, states that “... there is a clear need to improve the practices of the Ministry of Community Safety and Correctional Services (MSCSC) in terms of data collection and information sharing.”
One Report published in 2021 and entitled” Do Independent External Decision Makers Ensure that “An Inmate's Containment in a Structured Intervention Unit Is to End as Soon as Possible”? (Do external independent decision-makers ensure that “the stay of inmates in structured intervention units is reduced to the strict minimum”?) , written by criminologist Anthony N. Doob, looks at how the Structured Intervention Units (SIUs) of the Correctional Service of Canada (CSC) operate, which were meant to replace solitary confinement. Soleiman Faqiri, like Tamara Lucier and Ashley Smith, was in isolation at the time of his death.
“It seems that an individual's mental health — or the mental health indicator used by CSC — does not play an important role in determining whether the SIU is an appropriate place for an individual to stay,” it reads. Christi Thompson is an investigative journalist for The Marshall Project, a media outlet that covers the American criminal justice system. “This is a major problem in the United States, for people with severe mental health conditions, who clearly need psychiatric hospitalization and care and who end up in prison.”
The journalist believes that prison institutions are not equipped to care for individuals with these health problems. “This kind of worst-case scenario where someone who should be in the hospital ends up in prison and dies is in some way the result of a larger problem, namely that people with severe mental illness are incarcerated instead of being treated,” she believes. In the United States, the mental health training of a prison officer depends on where they work, adds the journalist.
“There should be psychiatrists, psychologists, and nurses on the staff. But the frequency with which these people are in the institution and closely monitor individuals varies a lot,” notes Ms. Thompson, adding that the staff on site do not have the resources that a mental institution would have to act, treat and keep the person safe. She also testifies to the lack of data on the prison system in the United States. “It is very difficult to get a national count of the frequency of these deaths [of people with mental health conditions], especially because it can be very difficult to get information about deaths in custody in general,” she explains. It continues to be a major obstacle and challenge for journalists.”
Photo: Christelle Saint-Julien
A fight that continues
“How many more vulnerable people have to die? laments Yusuf Faqiri. They need help, support, empathy, to be listened to, to be taken care of. They need to be cared for, with honor and dignity, rather than being murdered, killed, or caged.” He wants people with mental health problems to be able to be referred to professionals who have the appropriate tools to take care of them. “The situation is likely to happen again,” he says. Soleiman's case clearly shows the problem of mental illness and incarceration. That is why I continue to tell this story, to make sure that another family does not experience the same thing,” says Yusuf. While he still wants the correctional officers who beat Soleiman to death to be held criminally responsible for their actions, he is no longer under any illusion about it.
They continue to work. “I have lost faith in the justice system. But I have not lost confidence in my fellow citizens,” says Yusuf, who sees this struggle as a way to give back to society, but also to honor the memory of his brother and the others who have died.
The young man calls for a transparent and accountable mechanism, and for people with mental health disorders to be valued at their fair value, rather than being victims. “The system is out of order. He gives coffins,” he says, before adding that he wanted to make it a political and electoral issue. “My brother deserved a better end, just like the other families. The system robbed them of fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters who deserved to be respected and to be treated with dignity.
They lost their lives because their lives were considered worthless, because they suffered from mental health problems. And we have to put an end to this disaster,” he urges.
Even so, Yusuf feels that over time, more attention is being paid to these tragedies. Is it a greater openness to mental health issues? “I believe that mental illness is not about region, culture, ethnicity, gender. It is a problem that affects us all. If there's one thing I've seen over the past five years, it's that people want to understand, learn, and help their fellow citizens.”