Last week at the children’s home an opportunity came around that I just couldn’t pass up. The kids were to go one morning to visit the local correctional facility (i.e. prison). Although I wasn’t required to go, I definitely wanted to…I mean, how many times do we foreigners get to see another country’s prisons without having committed a crime? Not that often. So, yeah, I was eager to join in on the trip.
Before the trip started, I have to say I was a bit dismayed…I figured it was going to be a “don’t mess up” scare tactic for the little ones. Then, I was reminded that the supervisor of the home used to be a police officer. It was actually set up to be more of a “here is a place you can work when you’re older” kind of trip.
And, yes, it is a place that many of them can work. The center employs quite a few locals. I have to say I was flabbergasted by the size of the facility in comparison to the size of the city. Basically the city has a downtown area of two square blocks. There is like one video store. No malls. No movie theater. It’s a small place. Yet the prison holds 300-some-odd prisoners. Granted they’re from some of the surrounding cities, too. But 300 is definitely a large chunk of the population. And before we went in, the guards asked if the kids were scared and when they said no, he said that was good because the men in there were “our fathers, our brothers, our uncles” etc., etc. And he wasn’t just saying that in the figurative sense. Nope. Most of the staff and some of the kids bumped into someone they knew on the inside.
And the inside is basically nothing like what prisons are like in America (from what I’ve seen on Law & Order). All but the worst sleep in dorm-like rooms (the trouble ones have single cells) housing five or more men that open up to a courtyard. During their free time they get to go to school (with teachers who actually seem to care), make curtains and handbags, cook meals, or make music. Twice during the trip we were treated to performances from inmates at two different units. The first a cappella group sang traditional South African music. The second — with the assistance of a keyboard and electric guitar — sang a rendition of Cher’s “Do You Believe in Life after Love.” (Yes, it’s safe to say I enjoyed the South African music a bit more…)
But there was one striking similarity to the prisons in America…while walking through the halls, one of the kids leaned over to me and said, “Jayna…have you noticed there’s no white people in here?” Yep. I had. We actually did end up seeing one of them before the morning was over. But in reality, I think he may have even just been a light-skinned “colored” man.
All in all, the day was a great learning experience for me. Perhaps the most thought-provoking part of it was hearing a man convicted of shooting someone talk. During apartheid he — like many others — had been imprisoned for little or no reason; after apartheid ended, he vowed he would never go to prison again. Yet, despite an education and working as a school administrator, he found himself committing a crime — that he doesn’t fully seem to regret — and back in prison. And as we freely walked through the prison and inmates were allowed to stand right next to us and interact with us without a guard menacingly breathing down their necks, I came to realize…for some people here, prison is a way of life. I kind of get the feeling that the imprisonment during apartheid continues to carry on in people’s minds in the way that going to the slammer isn’t that big of a deal — thus adding to the problem of controlling crime in the country.
Sitting in my flat later that night, a truly disturbing thought entered my mind. I realized that I felt safer walking around in the halls, courtyards, and cells of the prison than I ever have walking down any street in the rest of South Africa.
I didn’t take any pictures of the prison, but this is the local police station…
