‘Prepared for the worst’, Malaysian activist recounts detention experience during GSF mission

The mission and even the detention, reaffirmed why humanitarian voices must continue to speak out.

SHARIFAH SHAHIRAH
SHARIFAH SHAHIRAH
28 Oct 2025 03:32pm
A demonstrator holds a placard during a rally in solidarity with Palestinians and to protest against the interception by the Israeli navy of the Global Sumud Flotilla, with the New Mosque in the background in Istanbul, on Oct 5, 2025. - (Photo by YASIN AKGUL / AFP)
A demonstrator holds a placard during a rally in solidarity with Palestinians and to protest against the interception by the Israeli navy of the Global Sumud Flotilla, with the New Mosque in the background in Istanbul, on Oct 5, 2025. - (Photo by YASIN AKGUL / AFP)

SHAH ALAM – When Global Sumud Flotilla (GSF) activist Iylia Balqis Suhaimi embarked on the humanitarian voyage to Gaza, she knew it would not be an ordinary mission.

It was not just about sailing into dangerous waters, it was about confronting fear, uncertainty and the possibility of never coming home.

She said the weeks leading up to departure were spent preparing mentally for the unknown.

She had heard stories of activists from earlier flotillas who were beaten, strip-searched and humiliated, so she conditioned herself to expect the worst, a way to ensure she would not break under pressure when the moment came.

“Before going, I told myself to be ready for anything, the long hours, the lack of sleep, the fear.

“I was expecting very harsh conditions, no toilets, no drinking water, even possible harassment,” she said during Sinar Daily's Palestinian Diaries podcast, recently.

For Iylia, mental preparation became her strongest armour.

“Having the worst expectation helps you stay calm when nothing happens, because you’re already prepared for the worst,” she added.

As a project coordinator with Cinta Salam Malaysia, she was used to challenging missions, but this one was different.

Calm before the storm

When the flotilla was intercepted roughly 16 nautical miles from Gaza, Iylia recalled how swiftly the Israeli naval forces approached.

“They came in a speedboat, with bright lights, and climbed to the top deck within seconds. We already had our hands raised, not as a sign of surrender, but to show that we came in peace,” she said.

To her surprise, the initial encounter was polite, almost rehearsed.

“They introduced themselves as the Israeli army and said that they did not mean any harm, just that they wanted to check for weapons. They even handed out water and offered seat pads,” she recounted.

However, she highlighted that beneath the surface of courtesy, the entire scene felt staged. Cameras, she said were visible on the soldiers’ vests, recording every movement and expression.

According to her, it was clear the soldiers were attempting to manage how the interception would appear to the world. The activists were warned not to accept any food or water, aware that doing so could be used for propaganda to show that they were being treated well.

She said the flotilla’s passengers, including notable figures such as Nelson Mandela’s grandson, Mandla and environmental activist Greta Berlin, were escorted to the lower deck.

Packed tightly together, 29 activists spent nearly 16 hours sitting and sleeping on the floor as the vessel was towed towards the port.

“The true colours begin”

Upon arrival at the port, Iylia said the tone shifted dramatically.

“Everything changed at the immigration post. They began to show their real face,” she said.

Activists were held for hours and subjected to rigorous bag inspections.

“They threw away anything related to Palestine, flags, stickers, even watermelon designs. They also confiscated food, sanitary pads and medicines. It felt like they wanted to humiliate us,” she said.

After undergoing immigration procedures, the group was blindfolded, their hands bound with zip ties and transported for nearly three hours to a detention facility.

Upon arrival, they were placed inside wired enclosures resembling cages, a setting that stripped away any sense of dignity or comfort.

Each volunteer was then instructed to change into grey prison uniforms, identical to those worn by Palestinian prisoners seen in widely circulated footage. For many, the experience was a stark and painful reminder of the reality faced by Palestinians under detention.

Inside the prison

While the flotilla members were told they would undergo medical check-ups, Iylia said it was largely performative.

“They called it medical, but they denied real access to medicine. One woman needed insulin, they gave her an empty pen. Another had bowel issues and couldn’t eat without her medication, but they refused to give it,” she said.

Conditions were harsh. The detainees were provided only sink water to drink.

“Some of the men had diarrhoea because the water wasn’t clean,” Iylia said.

The food served, she described, “was like what you’d see at a zoo, big chunks of carrots, hard cabbage cores and bread.”

Some activists went on hunger strike, fearing their meals might be contaminated.

“For us Malaysians, we just ate the bread with jam. We needed strength to get through the two days and one night there,” she said.

Finding strength through faith

Despite the circumstances, Iylia said faith and solidarity kept them grounded.

“What helped was knowing that we came with a noble purpose. We weren’t there to fight, we were there to stand for humanity,” she said.

Her experience, though harrowing, left her more steadfast.

“Having bad expectations turned out to be a blessing. When things were not as bad as we feared, it gave us calm and strength,” she said.

For Iylia, the mission and even the detention, reaffirmed why humanitarian voices must continue to speak out.

“We met the people who claim to be ‘good cops,’ but we know their actions in Gaza. They wanted to control the story, but we were there to tell the truth,” she said.

Download Sinar Daily application.Click Here!

More Like This