John Greyson and Dr. Tarek Loubani are the names of two Canadian citizens who have been held in a prison outside Cairo for more than six weeks.

Neither man has been charged with any crime.

In a letter written by Greyson and Loubani last week, the men describe being beaten and kept in squalid conditions. They also state that at the time of writing they were on their twelfth day of a hunger strike. The letter appears below in its entirety.

Greyson, a prominent director associated with York University, and Loubani, an assistant professor of emergency medicine at Western University, travelled to Egypt en route to the Gaza Strip. They intended to stay in Egypt for less than 24 hours and were arrested by Egyptian police when they approached a checkpoint to ask for directions back to their hotel.

On the phone from Halifax, Greyson’s sister, Cecilia (once a long-time resident of Vancouver), told the Straight that they released the men's letter to media on September 29 upon learning that Greyson and Loubani’s detention has been extended for an additional 45 days.

“At that point, we decided that it was time,” she said. “John and Tarek have had no voice in this entire process and we felt that it was time that people heard what happened through their voice, through this statement.”

Cecilia directed people to Greyson and Loubani’s website. A petition is there as well as letters that can be signed and sent to Canadian prime minister Stephen Harper as well as his counterpart in Egypt, interim prime minister Hazem el-Beblawi, and Egypt’s public prosecutor, Hesham Mohamed Zaki Barakat.

Here is the complete text of Greyson and Loubani’s letter, which was dictated to lawyers, transcribed, and released to media by the men's families.

We are on the 12th day of our hunger strike at Tora, Cairo's main prison, located on the banks of the Nile. We've been held here since August 16 in ridiculous conditions: no phone calls, little to no exercise, sharing a 3m x 10m cell with 36 other political prisoners, sleeping like sardines on concrete with the cockroaches; sharing a single tap of earthy Nile water.

We never planned to stay in Egypt longer than overnight. We arrived in Cairo on the 15th with transit visas and all the necessary paperwork to proceed to our destination: Gaza. Tarek volunteers at Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza, and brings people with him each time. John intended to shoot a short film about Tarek's work.

Because of the coup, the official Rafah border was opening and closing randomly, and we were stuck in Cairo for the day. We were carrying portable camera gear (one light, one microphone, John's HD Canon, two Go-Pros) and gear for the hospital (routers for a much-needed wifi network and two disassembled toy-sized helicopters for testing the transportation of medical samples).

Because of the protests in Ramses Square and around the country on the 16th, our car couldn't proceed to Gaza. We decided to check out the Square, five blocks from our hotel, carrying our passports and John's HD camera. The protest was just starting – peaceful chanting, the faint odour of tear gas, a helicopter lazily circling overhead – when suddenly calls of “doctor”. A young man carried by others from God-knows-where, bleeding from a bullet wound. Tarek snapped into doctor mode...and started to work doing emergency response, trying to save lives, while John did video documentation, shooting a record of the carnage that was unfolding. The wounded and dying never stopped coming. Between us, we saw over fifty Egyptians die: students, workers, professionals, professors, all shapes, all ages, unarmed. We later learned the body count for the day was 102.

We left in the evening when it was safe, trying to get back to our hotel on the Nile. We stopped for ice cream. We couldn't find a way through the police cordon though, and finally asked for help at a check point.

That's when we were: arrested, searched, caged, questioned, interrogated, videotaped with a 'Syrian terrorist', slapped, beaten, ridiculed, hot-boxed, refused phone calls, stripped, shaved bald, accused of being foreign mercenaries. Was it our Canadian passports, or the footage of Tarek performing CPR, or our ice cream wrappers that set them off? They screamed 'Canadian' as they kicked and hit us. John had a precisely etched bootprint bruise on his back for a week.

We were two of 602 arrested that night, all 602 potentially facing the same grab-bag of ludicrous charges: arson, conspiracy, terrorism, possession of weapons, firearms, explosives, attacking a police station. The arrest stories of our Egyptian cellmates are remarkably similar to ours: Egyptians who were picked up on dark streets after the protest, by thugs or cops, blocks or miles from the police station that is the alleged site of our alleged crimes.

We've been here in Tora prison for six weeks, and are now in a new cell (3.5m x 5.5m) that we share with 'only' six others. We're still sleeping on concrete with the cockroaches, and still share a single tap of Nile water, but now we get (almost) daily exercise and showers. Still no phone calls. The prosecutor won't say if there's some outstanding issue that's holding things up. The routers, the film equipment, or the footage of Tarek treating bullet wounds through that long bloody afternoon? Indeed, we would welcome our day in a real court with the real evidence, because then this footage would provide us with our alibi and serve as a witness to the massacre.

We deserve due process, not cockroaches on concrete. We demand to be released.

Peace, John & Tarek