Detention facilities in Thailand for refugees are "no place for children", said the New York based rights organisation, Human Rights Watch, in a report - 'Two Years with No Moon' - published Monday.

Condemning Thailand's arbitrary detention of thousands of children in overcrowded and dangerous conditions as "brutal", HRW called on Thailand to "immediately cease detention of children for reasons of their immigration status".

The facilities, which predominantly house Rohingya asylum seekers, also include over 2000 refugees who have fled non-neighbouring countries, including Sri Lanka.

"Thailand’s use of immigration detention violates children’s rights, immediately risks their health and wellbeing, and imperils their development. Wretched conditions place children in filthy, overcrowded cells without adequate nutrition, education, or exercise space. Prolonged detention deprives children of the capacity to mentally and physically grow and thrive," HRW said.

"Immigration detention in Thailand violates the rights of both adults and children. Migrants are often detained indefinitely; they lack reliable mechanisms to appeal their deprivation of liberty; and information about the duration of their detention is often not released to members of their family. Such indefinite detention without recourse to judicial review amounts to arbitrary detention prohibited under international law," it added.

The report, which includes extracts of interviews with refugee children, details the plight of a young girl aged 8 to 10, named Bhavani, who fled Sri Lanka.

See here for full report.

Extract from Bhavani's story published below:

"When Bhavani’s mother, Mathy, learned that her husband and daughters had been arrested, she was shocked. “I just thought I should surrender,” she told Human Rights Watch. “I wasn’t able to leave four of my girls in the IDC alone.” Mathy voluntarily reported to a court, where the judge ordered her to pay a 6,000 baht (about US$200) fine for being in the country without a visa, then let her surrender and join her daughters in the IDC. In the two days they were apart, Mathy said, “I felt like I was dreaming. I wasn’t able to sleep, I’d hear them talking like they were calling me, knocking at the door.”

When the sisters and their father reached the IDC—two days before Mathy arrived—the
police separated the girls from their father and sent them to different holding cells. The girls were initially held in a large hall with many adults. “When they took our dad away from us, we started to cry. That’s when I realized we couldn’t get out of there,” said Amanthi, Bhavani’s sister, who was 12 at the time. “When I saw them there,” said Mathy, “I was so scared.”

After a few days, Mathy and her four daughters were moved to the cell where they would spend the next two years. The cell was overcrowded, sometimes with over 100 occupants.

People were “sleeping all on top of each other, so crowded even right up to the toilet,” said Amanthi. “At some point we couldn’t sit.” Mathy said she coped as best she could, but one of my sons was never arrested. It was really difficult. I wanted to be in the IDC with my girls, but I missed my second son.” He could not visit without risking arrest himself.

Because of the detention center’s policy of holding males in one cell and females in
another, without chances to visit, the family was separated, despite being in the same facility. They were only brought together when a charity group visited once or twice per month and asked to see the whole family. “When Bhavani wanted to meet my dad or brother,” said Amanthi, “she’d really cry.”

Crammed in their cigarette smoke-filled, fetid permanent cell, the girls saw their health and education suffer. Bhavani developed a rash all over her body, but Mathy said the medication the IDC’s clinic gave her did not help. The toilets—just three for the hundred or so migrants held there—were filthy, and Bhavani’s teenage sister avoided using them because there were no doors. Though the International Organization for Migration ran a small daycare center that the girls could attend once or twice a week, there was no school.“I worried that my girls’ education stopped,” said Mathy.

Fights often broke out between women in the overcrowded cell, frustrated by their indefinite detention. “When someone behaved badly to other people, I didn’t like that,” said Bhavani. “They would shout at night.” The guards would not do very much when fighting started, and the girls would hide, explained Amanthi. “The [other migrants] are really, really strong. My mom didn’t know how to fight, she tried to take us to a corner and protect us. It was scary.”