Prison Journalism: The special days in prison

So, in jail, the special days don’t really mean much. I remember being there like it was just yesterday. The feeling of being in jail on your birthday is a horrible feeling of loneliness that none can make good, no matter how much they tell you that it will be okay.

Birthday Behind Bars

I remember on my birthday waking up and getting breakfast, everyone wishing me happy birthday, asking me what I am doing today. I recall holding back my tears, thinking they could see me cry. And right after breakfast, I recall being called. The warden still made a joke with me, saying, “You’re going home; it’s your lucky day.” And I remember feeling confused. And he quickly corrected himself, saying, “Are you stupid? You’re going nowhere!” There I started crying uncontrollably, just standing there facing the warden so the rest of the cell didn’t see my tears. And then he went on to say, “Hurry up, prisoners, or you will miss your visit,” opened the metal gate, and still proceeded to put the metal handcuffs on me, the metal chain going down to my feet.

When I asked them why, why the handcuffs, leg irons? He just said to me, “I must make you look good for your people with all your jewelry!” Again, I was shocked. I just went into praying, asking my god to be with me as I am going through this part of my life. As I got to the visitors’ windows, I saw my father, my sister; they both burst into tears just seeing me in this way. My sister could not even speak as she just couldn’t stop crying. Of course, that made me cry more, then my father started crying. In my entire life, maybe three times in my life, and there we sat just staring at each other for about 15 min, but it felt like a lifetime had passed in that time.

Emotional Visitation

And I then found myself telling them to stop crying, that everything will be okay, that the sun will rise again tomorrow, although I felt my heart breaking into a hundred thousand pieces. There was no way I was going to show them how truly I felt. But I had to be the tough son, the strong brother that they knew. How was I to do this? Oh my god! Please be with me, guide me through this day. Like that, I started feeling better. As my visit was coming to an end, my father and sister picked up a bag from the floor and started approaching the content of the bag in front of me. The warden, standing behind me, shattered me inside when he said I couldn’t have that inside. So, what now?

DISCLAIMER: Submission published as received

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RESTORE is an NGO based in Cape Town, South Africa, providing inmates at Pollsmoor Prison with restorative justice opportunities.

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