Mike and I woke up early this morning, for a Saturday. We had made arrangements with one of my day volunteers to visit a local prison. The smaller of the two prisons in Lome, only housing 230 men and 5 women. The larger prison, I was told, had about 1700 people incarcerated.
Now, I have been to visit a prison in Canada, and Mike had done prison ministries years ago in San Diego. But we were not prepared for what today would hold. The prisons in Canada and the States are palaces compared to what we saw today.
We drove out of Lome to an area called Tseve. It was about 1 hour and 15 minutes away from the ship. When we arrived at the prison I was stunned. The building was about 50 feet wide and 100 feet long. The walls were solid concrete, with 6 inch sharp spikes protruding out of the top, and no windows. The walls were a faded egg shell wash with a brownish strip at the bottom.
We entered the prison through a large blue gate that was padlocked behind us. Facing me was another blue gate that was barred and locked. To the left was a small work area where two men were making small clay ovens which they lined up underneath another egg shell colored wall that had 6 barred windows-the cells which slept 30 men per room, on mats, on the ground. We turned to the right and entered a doorway where four women were sitting on mats, on the sandy ground, and one was preparing their one maize meal of the day over a small clay oven. A pipe in the corner dripped water onto the sandy ground.
There were no chairs, so one of the guards brought Mike and I a bench to sit on. The area was no bigger than a 5 ft by 8 ft room. There only shade, from the blazing sun, was the made from the shadow of the wall. Off to the side was another door where the women slept, on throw mats on the floor...I did not ask where the bathroom was...I did not want to hear the answer.
We warmly greeted the women and shared a bit of the Bible with them. I asked if they could share with us their names and a bit of their story.
"I have 5 children. My husband died and left a debt. Since I am his wife, I have to pay the debt, but could not, so I was put in prison 3 months ago. I will be here until my family pays the debt."
"I was accused of being a witch-I am about 60 years old. I have been here 1 day."
"Someone in my village/family died and I was accused of murdering that person."
"Someone went to the police and said I owed them money. I could not pay my debt, so they put me in prison."
"I murdered my one year old son, I was not in my right mind. I still have a six year old child. Now that I have Jesus, I am in my right mind. I have been here one year."
I asked my day volunteer if they had had a trial. He said "No, they probably will not because they cannot afford counsel. They will remain in prison till someone in their family pays their way out or until the Prison General decides they can be released."
We talked and prayed with the women, said our good-byes and moved to meet with the men.
We walked through the blue barred door, down a small hall that had their one meal of maize cakes sitting in two large bowls on the floor, and entered into a courtyard. The courtyard was 25 ft by 100 ft. It had 3 trees, a sandy ground, and clay cooking pots lined up along the right hand wall. No chairs, no benches, no basketball court, nothing, absolutely nothing. Only 230 men standing there singing praises to God.
Once again, the guard brought the bench through for Mike and I to sit on. The men stood, a few sat in the sand, the sun beat on their heads. Perspiration from the heat of the morning dripped down their faces. As I was talking to the men, I looked into their eyes. Many of them where young, a few old, but they all had the same hopeless, helpless, lost look. Why were they there? Stealing, cheating, debt, murder...all without a trial. All waiting and hoping they had not been forgotten by their family on the outside. The prison will provide one maize cake a day...if they have the food. If not, the prisoners will go hungry. The prisoners are dependant upon someone on the outside to bring them food. We talked and prayed with the men and then left.
As we were leaving, one of them said: "Please do not forget us."
In all honesty, I could never forget the look in their eyes. I will never forget this visit.
