Lessons from Prison

I was sent to prison. Yes, I was jailed, actually jailed. I became a prisoner

I wore the prison uniform, slept on a blanket and went for hard labor in prison. I walked barefoot on the loose and sharp pebbles until I thought my foot would be torn to pieces.

What had I done? Nothing, even by implication. I was arrested in an office but charged with dumping on a street.

In fact the council people who arrested us were debating in the van taking us to court the best crime to accuse us of, in our presence.

We were then dumped to the underground holding cell that was so packed one couldn’t move as there were people who had been in police cells since Friday the previous week.

At two we were taken up to the court. But the magistrate came a few minutes before four.

Then the cases! That is when I discovered it was more criminal to defend yourself than admit guilt even when there was none.

Someone charged with doing this or the other without a license is handed a small fine. The one who produces the required license in defense is asked for a cash bail five to ten times higher than the fine. Many of the ones who produced evidence to the contrary were taken to jail with us as there was no time to raise those huge cash bails.

Another thing I noticed is that the magistrate just looked at your face to decide your fate. One ‘crime’ had someone pay a huge fine even as another one is offered freedom, yet none of them said anything apart from pleading guilty.

I was convicted and fined. My friends went to pay the fine but found out that my file had disappeared, until the office closed. But it was there to take me to jail.

We were taken to the Industrial Area prison and arrived later in the night. That is when you discover Kenyans and opportunities.

We were told that we were late for supper. But there was enough food for anyone who had money. Bread, buns, donuts and soda were available at prices higher than normal. I had money but no appetite and so bought nothing.

Then we were booked and became prisoners. One has to squat to talk to afande. We surrendered our belongings (phones and money) and were given a numbered bag to store our clothes.

We removed everything and wore the prison uniform and were taken to the ‘wards’, the word they use for the prison rooms.

After that we were counted. We had to squat in fives. Those who took long to comply were beaten. And it was so bad that you felt the pain when someone else got whipped.

One prisoner then welcomed us to prison life and gave us an induction course on the same. We understood the dos and don’ts.

Later we went to sleep arranged like logs, with a blanket as the mattress and another serving its purpose, though a blanket served three people. But I shared mine with one young man who slept as soon as he was covered as we were at the end of the ‘pile’.

As we always hear, some insects welcomed us and their bites were an adventure.

I was unable to sleep because I have never slept without a pillow. But I had a great time praying and looking at the situation God had placed me in.

In the morning we woke up. We were not forcefully woken. In fact it was not even early as the sun was already up.

After the counting ritual, we went out. That is when we were shaved (and I was shaved nicely) and had breakfast of thick porridge which I did not have any appetite for. I therefore took a little and gave the rest to a neighbor. We were required to squat all the time though they allowed me to sit (on the floor) due to my age.

We were then taken to labor. They looked at you and decided the kind of work fitted you. I was therefore taken to cut grass outside the residences of the officers.

When we were in school, getting the punishment to slash grass was many times treated as a privilege. But this time it was torture. The slasher was blunt and the grass for the most part was dry. It therefore required immense effort to make any impact. And we were not supposed to take any break, even a short one, for hours. The officers over us were not brutal, though, and would only remind us to continue working when one stood to take a breath. And they released us much earlier until officers in other labor squads complained. Incidentally, my whole body was by then on fire from fatigue and my feet were in greater pain from treading on all manner of sharp things barefoot.

We therefore rested, during which time I was able to get to know another prisoner and share the Gospel with him.

We then went back to the prison. I went through some drama as I did not know the rules of asking questions. I was required to be transferred to another prison due to that but God somehow intervened as it would have meant me another day in prison. I had actually removed the uniform and dressed ready to be transferred when another officer asked me to redress in the prison uniform.

Back to the ward, the counting routine once again, and then lunch; which was a very big portion of ugali and greens with a lot of gravy. The funny part was that the sukuma wiki was cooked uncut. So there were a few whole leaves, even with the stalk.

I ate a little and gave out the rest.

I was bathing when I was called, to be released.

The process for the release was also very long and tedious. But I was finally free.

How did I feel about being in prison from a false accusation?

From the onset, my heart was at peace. I was confident God wanted me to go through the experience for His own purpose. Even when I realized that my file could not be found and I would have to actually go to jail, I was at peace and confident that it is what God wanted. In short, God was sending a minister who writes to prison as a prisoner so that some truths can get out.

And the first truth is that many people are in prison wrongly. I talked with a young man who has been in remand for over two years because he was arrested while going to work. They arrested him when they were looking for somebody else. And to date they have not seen the need to correct that clear mix up.

Some do not even know why they are in prison. And they have no one to help them out because their people have branded them criminals because, like me, they were sent to prison by a court of law, if you can call the drama we went through a court.

I will therefore be writing about my observations over the next weeks as God leads.

I will start with the first implication. It is the way we do prison ministry.

Most assume that everybody in prison is guilty of one or the other crime. They therefore preach a gospel that presumes guilt.

It is not surprising that some prisoners become hardened against the Gospel. They view the evangelist as a partner with his oppressors. You see, someone already victimized from unfair, even false conviction, is actually being insulted by the well-meaning evangelist prodding him to repent. In his mind, the ones needing to repent are his tormentors.

It reminds me of John 9 about this man who was born blind. Just like the disciples believed that someone must have sinned for him to have been born blind, we assume that someone must have committed a crime to have been sent to prison. And I was not much different, assuming that it was the exception that may have resulted from an error or framing. I realized that it probably is the other way round, especially in cases involving the county governments and petty offenses.

We need to deal with bitterness and the resulting injuries it causes. Many prisoners are hurting, especially because the people they trust most treat them like criminals. Or how many times have you read or heard of a person who was in prison for decades for a crime they did not commit? And the truth came out after all that suffering!

We must have an evangelistic package for such if we must do the prison ministry aright.

We must connect those who have been injured by a flawed criminal justice system with their families without talking about the reformation of someone who was wrongly sent to jail.

I am not talking about those who were rightly jailed, though even with those there are some who were excessively penalized. I remember this young man serving a fifteen year sentence for a crime I think does not deserve anything close to that. Or the chicken thief who is given seven years hard labor yet they were looking for food to feed their starving family. They are also feeling victimized, especially as they see people who have committed worse crimes finding and leaving them in jail.

I did not see any Bibles in the prison ward I was jailed.

I am planning to go back to jail.

I want to take a few Bibles and Bible reading plans. I especially want to go to the ward I was sent to, as a minister of the Gospel. If it will be possible, I want to also get an Audio Bible for them. TV is a diversion to the hurt, though not a very positive one.

Who will give me a Bible? Who will go with me?