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Life in prison
By STEPHEN POKANIS POPAHUN
It was about 6pm. I figure out the
time based on the length of shadow cast by the last ray of
sunshine coming through the iron rods of my cell window; as if to
say goodbye to me and the freedom I once enjoyed.
As the sun sinks beyond the mountains of Gerehu, I begin to feel
great emotions within me.
Then tears started to fall uncontrollably. I remember my wife who
has been unfaithful to me for the last almost 20 years of
marriage, my two young teenage daughters, and my two young boys
who are less than ten years old.
I began to dream also about all my families in Manus who would be
mourning for me. They would be in great shock, pain and with so
many unanswered questions.
I remember them well - all my brothers and sisters and everyone at
Lundret village. They likewise know me very well because we are a
small, strong committed group of people from the same clans who
have supported each other quite well.
Yes I remember their faces so well that I thought I was with them
until I saw the dark concrete walls of my.
I was hallucinating. I forced myself to sleep that night, trying
to avoid contact with total strangers in Cell 5A, here at the
Bomana Correctional Institution, so they would not know the
anguish, misery, and loss of self esteem I was going through.
But I could not hold the buckets of emotions stored inside me, so
I burst out crying. Then I felt the hands of strangers comforting
me. Strangers who have now become friends and I mean dear friends
to me.
For thirty years, I have lived in Port Moresby, enemies to none
and friends to all; from Bougainville to Sandaun province, from
the Goilalas, Chimbus, to Taris. Indeed these few people have been
my great friends since the time I set foot in Port Moresby as a
young motor mechanic apprentice in 1982.
I consider myself a law abiding man, except for one or two
occasions when my careless drink driving had landed me in a police
cell.
Other than that I was a strong and disciplined man of principles;
committed to my families, my in-laws, my children and my wife,
despite her unfaithfulness.
I took life as it came, perhaps working with car engines was a way
to escape from the marital problems I continuously faced.
That was until one Saturday morning when a fight with my wife's
lover unfortunately resulted in his death.
I did not mean to hurt nor take away his life. I was only trying
to defend myself and that is the unanswered question that keeps
haunting me. What really happened that Saturday?.
All I can remember was the iron smashing on my ribs and as I
looked up, I saw this huge metal coming down towards my head.
Now he is gone, and I am still reeling from all that has happened
as if I am trapped in a time-warp with no escape.
I am indeed sad for what happened but I cannot find the
opportunity to express my sincerest sorrow to his families, or to
his widow and child.
I ask myself, if I have that opportunity, will they accept what I
say or give to them as a token of reconciliation? Will this heal,
or mend the damage done. How can this help all of us? I do not
know the answer and I will never know as long as I remain in this
prison.
But fate does change when one comes to prison. As for me, I have
left my families. I miss my children deeply. Not being with them,
not seeing them, and not helping them with their needs cause a
great deal of pain in my heart.
Living now in solitary confinement, is living in great
uncertainty, and longing to be free is the reality of what life in
prison is.
Most painful are the times when you are terribly sick and about to
die. You long for medical treatment, but won't get it immediately,
because of all the hassles of regulations and laws Correctional
Service is mandated to apply.
Only when you are on the verge of death are all these processes
are broken, crashing of boom-gates in order to get to Port Moresby
General Hospital before death welcomes you home to eternity.
I miss and long to be with my family. There are no words to
describe what I feel or know in my heart. There is no single hour
or day that I can sleep in peace - though I long so much for that
wonderful day, I am still searching for it.
I await my case which is now before the court and that is my
destiny. I do not have the liberty to make decisions anymore. I
must always submit to my bosses (Correctional Service officers),
to the laws and time, when to get up, when to eat, and when to
lock-up and sleep (not really because I don't even know what sleep
is all about since coming to prison).
With this few remarks, I urge all living in the free society to
continue to uphold the laws of this country no matter how far you
are pushed to the extreme edge.
Your rights fall within the perimeters of the laws. Anything done
outside of these laws will certainly bring you to this terrible
place.
-Dedicated to remandees in 5A Cell Bomana
Correctional Institution and all other remandees awaiting trial.
 
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