Babies Are Born Here….

Mr. Albain then led us to the women's section. I immediately noticed the putrid toilets,backed up to the brink of the toilet hole. Privacy was nonexistent. Anyone could walk inand see women squatting. Rats scurried about as if they owned the place, moving lazily inand out of the holes they had dug near the toilets and cooking area. Added to the surreal atmosphere were the many prison babies and toddlers, the moms having been sentenced while nursing or pregnant. One newborn looked seriously malnourished.

The two inside chambers were deplorable. Slabs of cement created three levels of habitation, the bottom level being the tiny crawl space directly on the floor. I had to crouch down to snap photos. Filthy walls infested with spider webs and mites enclosed a claustrophobic prison "dorm". I felt a wave of sadness reading the words "AndriamanitraTsara" ( God is Good ) scrawled on a side wall. The women refused to use the inside toilets during the night lockdown to lessen the stench, and would bring in makeshift buckets instead. One woman looked seriously mentally ill, crouched in a corner. Teenage girls huddled together as new best friends. Two or three old women were mixed in the lot, grey-haired, wrinkled and flabby.