My first encounter with a journalist was during a street interview in front of the Munich Parliament in 2019. I was standing there surrounded by hundreds of federal police officers. Their presence was heavy and intimidating, and for a moment, the questions left me silent. Silence came first not because I had nothing to say, but because the weight of the setting demanded it.

Then the journalist asked me:

“Destiny, how do you see and how can you explain police brutality and violence in the camp?”

The question cut straight through the noise of the street. It was not an abstract issue for me; it was lived reality. Police brutality in camps is often explained away as security, order, or enforcement, but for those inside, it feels like punishment without crime. Violence becomes normalized, and fear becomes part of daily life.

What the public often does not see is that camps are spaces of extreme power imbalance. Refugees live under constant control, with little ability to question authority or defend themselves. When force is used, there is rarely accountability. Complaints are dismissed, voices are doubted, and silence is encouraged.

That moment in front of the Munich Parliament marked something important for me. Speaking about violence in camps, under the watch of armed police, showed how fragile freedom of expression can be for refugees. Yet it also showed why speaking out matters. Silence protects the system. Truth challenges it.