stats count Prison Journalism: The fight and struggle living on the Cape Flats – Meer Beek

Prison Journalism: The fight and struggle living on the Cape Flats

Warning: The content contained within this article features imagery which readers may find disturbing

Being part of a gang on the Cape Flats is like signing your own death certificate and ordering a bus ticket to prison. The moment you take the mark of the gang, your whole community will know about you. It’s obvious, because from that time you will be surrounded by girls and gang members (van jy is mos nou ‘n ou); you’re just the “cool cat,” not realising you are the next target for death or prison. By the time you open your eyes, it’s too late—the police and the gangsters are already on your track. You don’t know if it’s right or left as you walk around with your head swinging from right to left over your shoulders, blood always pumping at a high rate.

Facing your fears

I remember being caught with a gun while sitting in the cell block. People from my area came in and out of the cell blocks at Phillipi Police Station, saying I was driving around with the police, taking out guns, and that I was a piemper (informer). But I couldn’t understand; I was arrested and lying in the single cells, confused, with my nerves boiling. I had been arrested on the scene where I was committing the crime and was taken straight to the police station. I was furious and had mixed emotions, because I already knew that, besides what people were talking about and accusing me of, I was going to prison; there was no turning back.

The community trauma

People were talking about how they would kill me if I got out of prison for what I was accused of and for what happened that day. It was the day I saw how the people I was prepared to die for, and for whom I broke my mother’s heart to please, turned their backs on me for things I had never done. Being on the inside made me feel useless because I couldn’t defend myself from the rumours and false news I was accused of. It was like a stab in my soul, because I knew if the truth didn’t come out before I got out of prison, I would die.

Unexpected moments

I knew I had family and friends who were not happy with my life, but they were there for me. My God and my wife, Zuleiga, were the only help I had through the hard times. Finding out the truth about what really happened behind bars was truly unexpected. Being behind bars felt like being cut off from the world, but discovering the truth while locked up was amazing. I can say it was only the work of the Almighty God that revealed the truth. When I walked through the streets of Hanover Park, the people spreading the rumours just stared at me, looking amazed to see me walking the streets after all they had said about me.

Walking away

Moving away from the gang and its strict rules was not easy for me. Being behind bars for at least six months of my sentence gave me more than enough time to think about my time in prison and how to go about with my future.

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 

This project in collaboration with RESTORE currently works with formerly incarcerated young men in the communities.

If you have any questions you would like to ask our prison journalists, WhatsApp us on 060 011 0211.

Do you have contact with a prison inmate who would like to write for The South African website? If so, send an email to info@thesouthafrican.com or a WhatsApp to 060 011 0211.

You can also follow @TheSAnews on Twitter and The South African on Facebook to get the latest prison journalism articles.

About admin