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My 14th Day In Prison

Article by: (Ken & Speranza)

jail

I reminisce the days when I arrived home in the evening and hugged my beautiful wife. The days when I opened my car’s front door and my kids rushed to hug me calling me ‘daddy’ as they ransacked through the shopping paper bags in a bid to get what dad had brought for them. How we watched TV together as a family as we laughed our ribs out in the living room. The great moments when we ate together as a family at the dining table at the Centre of our home are still fresh on my mind. I miss the many times when I slept on the same matrimonial bed with my wife. We occasionally gazed at each other and had some ‘extravaganza’ episode before we slept in a very cordial pose. In the morning, I would take both my wife and my kids. I would drop my kids to school as I drove my wife to work at a certain corporate company.

 

All that familial happiness ended in a single day when my ‘40’ days were over. It happened in a flash such that upto now, I cannot explain it.

I started this drug business 6 years ago. To be honest, money started flowing in like groundnuts.at the moment, money was like being generated from trees.  I quickly married and got kids. Life was so enjoyable by then. I transported drugs to and from the city during the day and spent the rest of the night with my family.

 

My wife never knew what I did. All she knew is that I was a businessperson who worked during the day. She had occasionally asked me what I did but I kept keeping it behind her back. (I still have the feeling that informing her could have saved my life) I was the best dad to my children. They were always proud of me.

 

This drug business had made me ascend gradually to riches. We relocated from the suburban areas to the estates that had been recognized widely due to the posh life that was associated with the place. I remember that day when I heard a knock at the gate before I was apprehended by the police in my mansion, I was swimming at the big pool in front of my house as my wife watched me from the balcony seeping some wine from the glass. I remember this like it was yesterday.

 

My reaction to the police made my wife look paranoid. She knew something was wrong. I quickly got out of the pool in a bid to escape inside the house only to realize I had been surrounded. I got inside the police car with my wet shorts and a swimmers t-shirt. My wife hurried down the stairs and held my hand through the car window. A certain police officer tried to stop her but he later allowed her to speak to me.

 

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked me. ‘What is happening?’

I did not speak anything for a while. I was tongue-tied. (I honestly did not have anything to say. I wondered what to say)


‘I did this for us. I wish I could have listened to you earlier as you tried to figure what I did to earn a living’ I said as I kissed her palm. I dropped a tear. I had not dropped a tear for as long as I was a kid. I knew I had been caught. I was sure of the consequences but I continued to make money through this illegal business.

prison

This is my 14th day in this place called prison. I actually feel like I have spent an entire year here. It is not only the conditions and the atmosphere that is killing you, but your feelings hurt the most. The thoughts of me enduring another 70 years in this place makes me feel like I can commit suicide at this moment. This place is not for the light-hearted at all. Before, I always heard people saying this and that about prison. I did not even want to imagine because I did not ever have the thought that one day, I might be serving a jail-term.


I am seated on a very cold surface in a certain room. My room is number 45 just as my age. There is no bed, as most people would expect. It is only an old rugged mattress on the dingy uncemented floor that I sleep on. When I arrived, I was given blankets and everything great but the ‘bully prisoners came for them’ as soon as I was allocated the room. It took some days as I slept on the floor before I got the supportive mattress for the time being. The length of the room is equivalent to my hands stretched-out.

Food is served only twice and you have no say to how it looks like nor the quantity. You have to be in ‘good-books’ with the cooks to enjoy a full plate. I have realized that most deals in prison are organized through corruption and for you to survive; you need to be more corrupt than your counterparts. Everything good in prison comes at a cost. I had to join a certain cartel of prisoners so I would manage my life in the place. For you to become their own, you would run illegal errands inside the prison walls without been caught. That would give you access to secret information and to be in good books with the cartel. They would also protect you when you have a problem. I was lucky I survived them in my first week.

 

I have to admit I have never seen a person die in my entire life. the movies and cinemas I saw home didn’t scare me a lot not until I saw a live beating to death of my fellow mate. It happened on the third day.  He had being beaten to death by fellow prisoners simply because of lacking to co-operate to what they had agreed upon earlier that day. Recently, a prison warden was killed as he tried to capture some ‘absconders’. Since I came, six people have died out of violence. People die every day here. It is the worst place I have ever imagined living in. but it is a reality that am inside this place. I have seen young kids who just hit 18 being sodomised mercilessly. Nobody fights for such people’s rights here and nobody cares what happens when you set foot in prison. This place is hell on earth.

 

Day after day, there are serious check-ups by prison warders that leave most of us bleeding allover. Have you ever seen your mate bleeding to death and there is nothing you can do rather than watch? If you have not experienced it yet, it is a very painful experience.

 

Being my 14th day, I am quite sure I have more episodes to watch and problems to persevere through. I am sure that I will die in this prison not unless I have a stupid plan to escape. I have 70 more yrs. to witness the horrors of this place. I am currently 45. Our life expectancy is barely 47years. In short, I have a life sentence.


I do not know how my wife is fairing on but I know she will survive. She is a strong and smart lady as to what I know. She will make it without me. I have her in my heart and I know she really loved me. I know my kids have been relentlessly asking my wife where I am. I do not know what she tells them. It hurts me so much. What hurts me so much is that I have left my family. Something that I had built for 5 years in such a great haste. That drastic separation is what that is consuming me up.

jail

 

I realize I did wrong and the ‘long hands of the law’ had already caught up with my jaws in flagrante delicto. There is a very bitter feeling that is chewing me up day by day. I have seen people end their lives by hanging themselves using their prison-shirts. They have been bored with life in here. I sometimes feel the same but there is that inner instinct that always guides me and holds me back. I am strong and I have to go through this strongly.

 

This letter is especially for those people out there who are enjoying quick cash from illegal businesses. It is very profitable but the consequences are worse than you can imagine. Its better you struggle to put food on the table rather than do what you do illegally. You might not find it worst not until you are caught up such a situation like mine. I know there are many people doing the kind of business I was doing out there. I was only a transporter in this business. The big fish are not the ones targeted. The hustlers like me and you who are just intermediaries are the ones who suffer the most. It is good to look ahead and value your life.

 

Value your life fellow human being.

 

I will never get a chance to write again. I guess being here made me a writer because I have never written something long like this before.

 

Bye.

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About Melting Ice Towers

We Are Medical Students at The University Of Nairobi. We Have Been Endowed With Writing Talents That We Confabulate During Our Free time. This Is Our Writing Platform. Enjoy Yourself Dear Readers.We Love Our Dear Readers. You Inspire Us. We will always keep you updated with interesting articles. By Ken And Speranza

Posted on September 21, 2016, in AFRICAN, shocking, SOCIAL LIFE and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. I read this article and I get chills!!As a young journalist there was a time last year, i was at the milimani law courts for a “court beat”.I saw hell break loose yet i had just come to do my work. Prisons are the worst place one can ever be. Sodomy is REAL!!!Nice one

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This article is an eye opener to what am just about to write…. Great work!!! Hats off.. 🎩👏👏

    Liked by 2 people

  3. This is awesome.I read this article and i get chills 😱!prisons are no joke!! I’ve been to that place being a young investigative reporter and what i saw is enough to compile a novel.Nice piece

    Liked by 1 person

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