When condemned prisoners were ‘special’

By Judith Akinyi

Walking down a street in one of the estates recently, I was reminded of the day I witnessed estate dwellers lynch a young man. The fellow was a notorious bully who would snatch anything from passers by.

Residents were so scared of him. But on this day, they decided enough was enough.

They sat strategically waiting for him. As always, the thug went to his usual corridor, stood at a corner scheming to attack his next victim.

As soon as he pounced on an unsuspecting woman, all kinds of weapons landed on him. In less than two minutes the mighty hooligan lay helpless in a pool of blood. An irate neighbour went for an old tyre and placed it on him while another equally angry man poured paraffin and lit the tyre. The body was burnt beyond recognition.

Had the thief been taken to court, he could have been charged with robbery with violence and would have spent at least three years in remand prison. With adequate evidence, any magistrate would have sentenced him to death.

The man would have found himself in a prison van on his way to one of the penal institutions to lead a very boring life in an overcrowded room waiting for the hangman’s noose.

I have never understood why, before the reforms, ordinary inmates were never allowed to get close to those serving death sentences. Whenever an inmate who had been sentenced to death passed by, other prisoners would be ordered to lie down with eyes closed until the condemned person disappeared.

Important prisoners

An attempt to peep would earn a thorough beating from the zingatia kazi sisters. If the ordinaries happened to be near a room, they would all be ordered to enter and lie down no matter how small it was.

They would be heaped like bags of potatoes until the "important prisoners" passed.

Most wardresses then referred to this category of inmates as "wafungwa wa maana (important prisoners)" and also treated them so. They were served ‘top layer’ foods. Things changed much later and ordinary inmates could be allowed to look at them.

With time they were able to as much as say hello and hurriedly shake hands, obviously under the watchful eyes of the zingatia kazi sisters. To date, the two categories are not allowed to socialise.

Prisoners are given cards, which act like identity cards.

The first time I saw a card belonging to a sister who had been condemned to death, a cold chill ran down my spine. I knew she was condemned to death, but for some reason, seeing this sentence against her name really got me scared. If an 11- year sentence gave me sleepless nights, how about life or death sentence?

Imagine this:

LTA - (123/456/2002/condemned

NAME - hijk lmno pqrs

DOA (Date of Admission) – Feb 15, 2002

DOD (Date of Departure) - NIL SENTENCE - Death by hanging.

The writer is an ex-prisoner