Men’s Section - The Horror

“When I see the crowds behind the gate for the men's section, I just can't imagine how improvements can be made with so many people in a tiny space.“

“I am rather rattled right now.The experience was overwhelming and I left the prison feeling that the situation is next to hopeless. It would be nice to make the boy's section into a Holiday Inn, but the real problem is the men's section. About half of the kids in the minor ward will turn 18 next year and those without family to bring them food will surely die..The mason saw some inmates eating banana peels from the sewer, and witnessed dead bodies being carried out from the chambers in the early morning.” Letter Quote

One day Pastor Theodoric held a church service in the men's section, garbed in a white robe standing in the middle of utter filth. I was distracted by the animal-like-hungry-frenzy-energy around and about me, skeletal bodies leaning into huge cooking vessels, edging out the last remnants of the breadfruit mush with the sides of their hands, then licking up the grey slop. 

I felt like an unwilling voyeur, every inch of me wanting to turn away in denial as I stood, a pillar of salt. I willed myself to snap out of it and take quick photos of this horror so others too could become aware. 

We were later told that some pastors are afraid to step foot in the prisons, as the inmates throw mud at them because they preach without bringing food, an impossible task for two thousand inmates. Starvation is endemic as the government only provides one meager meal a day, usually a bowl of starchy breadfruit, rice or manioc. The lucky ones, 20% according to Amnesty International, have family members who regularly provide staples while the remaining 80% struggle to survive. 

Later that week, I asked to see the men's chambers. Bodies were lying on the floor, sleeping or dead it was hard to tell. It was stuffy, hot, and claustrophobic. As in the minor and women’s quarters, there were no fans in the men’s chambers for lack of reliable electricity. I wondered how they could breathe at night with the doors locked and seemingly cross ventilation. As our contractor arrived for work early on several mornings, he witnessed bodies wrapped in mats being carried out of the men's chambers. Most likely the dilapidated hole-ridden rusty tin sheet roof lets in a faint breeze and saves at least some of them.

One of the pastors suggested that we replace the tin sheeting with a permanent cement slab, thus turning the chambers into a Hansel-and-Gretel-type oven. I slammed my imagination door shut.

“Stick to preaching please. Let’s seek advice from experts about engineering solutions to these structural problems.”