Prison Journalism: The feeling of entering prison

Prison Journalism: The feeling of entering prisonJean-Pierre Le-Roux is a divorced father of two beautiful children. He was incarcerated for 20 months for pointing a firearm.

by Jean-Pierre Le-Roux

14-03-2024 11:37

in Prison Journalism

Prison Image: Unsplash

The feeling I felt that first day I went to Pollsmoor Prison was like no other. I cannot even describe it; it was a feeling of pure terror and fear, the feeling of powerlessness and no control over anything.

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Initial impressions I knew nothing! I remember feeling this overwhelming wave of tears coming from the very inside of my belly, and all I could do was cry loudly and uncontrollably. Some of the guys came to me, asking me what was wrong, and said I should stop crying immediately before the numbers see or even hear. They warned that I would be in deep trouble, as they might make me a wife. I remember thinking, What the hell? And What does this even mean? As I was wiping my tears from my face, one of the high-ranking officers of the Numbers gang approached me slowly.

As I looked up and saw him coming towards me, I felt scared and started shaking as if I had just ended up on the Antarctic ice shelf. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop my body from acting out in fear-my limbs were shaking, my legs both started tapping as I was sitting. This officer stood right in front of me and asked me in a loud, angry voice what I was about and why I was shaking. I couldn't give any answer to him. With a trembling voice, I managed to ask him why he would ask me if I'm stupid. He didn't even answer me but gave me a death stare, followed by a smack across my face that made me fall on my back on the floor. I even saw stars for a brief second.

Confrontation and reflection I remember standing up and saying, What the hell? The words hadn't even fully left my mouth yet, and I received another smack, but this one was harder than the first. Back on the floor, I found myself dizzy and disoriented. I stumbled to my feet, with tears streaming down my cheeks, just looking at this bully, thinking, Oh my God, why? Why am I here? This can't be true. It just can't. And then it dawned on me that this is now my reality. I had now arrived at the notorious Pollsmoor Prison, and I remember thinking, Lord, am I going to make it out of here alive? because I didn't know so much. I felt hopelessness, powerlessness, worthlessness, and I started praying and asking God to protect me and to be with me through this time.

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DISCLAIMER: Submission published as received

Should you wish to assist in the rehabilitation of former inmates and help put money into the pockets of those who have struggled to earn a living during and after incarceration, click HERE

RESTORE is an NGO based in Cape Town, South Africa, providing inmates at Pollsmoor Prison with restorative justice opportunities.

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