“Until I Die”

One day while Lalao and I were running around with Kennedy purchasing plumbing supplies, Hanitra stayed back and waited outside the prison gate. She started chatting with a woman sitting beside her, waiting to visit her son. 

"I am originally from the Betsileo area around Ambositra. My husband was a rice farmer and together we had seven kids, now five because two died. After we separated I was left with four girls and one son to totallyr aise on my own. One day my son, now grown, heard of a job opening in Sambava and decided to check it out as we were desperate for money. He discovered that the work he was given wasn’t what was agreed upon and the boss never paid for his travel expenses as promised, so he decided to return home. A kind doctor in town heard about my son’s situation and offered him a job. After a few months, the doctor suddenly died in hissleep. The family registered a police case, claiming that one of the four employees had given the doctor an overdose of sleeping pills. However, there was no toxicology report to back up his claim and anyway, where would my son get sleeping pills? Because my son was new and from another tribe, the other three employees pinned the accusation on him." 

"How many years is his sentence?", Hanitra asked. 

"Until he dies." 

"Can you appeal?" 

"It would cost about six million ariary ($1350) to hire a lawyer and I am poor. I moved up here to to be nearto the son I nursed and love. To provide for him I find this and that to peddle and when I collect 2000 ariary (50 cents) I buy two tins of rice. I hand my notebook to the guard, and wait for about three hours to be called. When the guard says time is up, we both start crying." 

"How long will you do this? " 

"Until I die.