Weekends are the only time we are allowed to use the public phone or receive visits. These privileges change the atmosphere in the prison totally.As soon as the prison is opened, inmates rush to the phone to book their place in the queue. Inmates are given 10 minutes per turn. One has the option of returning to the queue as many times, as time will allow. The calls are not monitored in any way. Sometimes one is able to make 2 calls per day.There is a constant buzz around the phone. Inmates in the queue jostle for position whilst others animatedly relay their phone conversations to friends. Opportunists will try persuading those close to their turn to give them a few minutes of their allotted time.
The queue is always the site of heated arguments because of guys trying to sneak their way ahead of others. Time keeping is also an issue. The onus is on the person first in the queue to keep track of the time of the person in the phone booth. The person calling also keeps track of his time. Often, the timing does not tally resulting in heated argument and occasionally resulting in blows.Foremost on the agenda of anyone wanting to call is not how their dear ones are doing; but rather when they will be visiting and what they need. After using the phone, the look on the face of the inmate tells the story of his phone call. A worried or dejected face means only one thing, nobody is coming to visit. For smokers this means; at least another week before their supply is replenished, and a long week ahead incurring much debt by taking cigarettes on credit, from inmates who sell at a high price or high interest rate.I have yet to see anyone emotional after a phone call for any reason other than hearing the news that they won’t be getting visitors.
For a small portion of the populous, phone calls are a time to find out about the happenings in their loved ones lives. Not knowing what is going on in loved ones lives is a terrible feeling. A weekly update in ten minutes revives the spirit to fight through until the next weekends call.
There are times when one has to deliberate, often for days, about who the precious call will be made to. 10 minutes is never enough for one proper conversation so trying to call more than one person is rare.
There are times when the phones are out of order; sometimes all the phones in the prison are affected, resulting in misery for all. There are 2 phones in my section, at the moment 1 is not working at all. In essence this means 94 inmates have to use 1 phone, one is lucky to get in 1 phone call at the moment.
This is not all that bad compared to the ultra-maximum prison I was at. There, one was only allowed 1 call every fortnight. There were however ways to beat the system and call every weekend, naturally this came at a price.
During the week, the public phones are locked. The only way of being able to make calls is by submitting a request to call an educational institute or one's lawyer. These calls are monitored by the officials. Every week, one has to be opportunistic and creative in trying to get in a call to loved ones. For a while, once the official got my lawyer on the line and then excuses himself; I had the lawyer connect me to whomsoever I wanted to call.
Inmates also try to persuade the social workers or psychologists to allow them to call. This desperate route is a lengthy process but is generally a rewarding one. Not only is one able to call, one is able to call using the prisons' phone and not restricted to ten minutes.
The desire to be in touch with loved ones also leads many to illegally obtaining cell-phones. Cell-phones are brought in by officials for
around R400.00 or smuggled in at visits. Most officials are corrupt and always keen to make some extra money, so cell-phones are always in abundance. The latest phones can be found in prisons even though the consequences for being caught in possession of one are serious. Almost every week routine searches result in many phones being confiscated, only for the same inmates to get new ones quickly.
Cellular phones do not hold their value in prison. Inmates sell their phones to one another at a fraction of their street value. Generally a basic model costs between R100 and R200; whilst a camera-phone goes for between R200 and R400 depending on the model. High end models like Samsung cost around R800.
On the inside, accessories are not a big market. The only accessory that is always in demand is chargers. These cost roughly R50. As cell-phones and chargers are seen as disposable or flushable when searching happens, there is always a demand.
Airtime is also a big market. Those who do not receive visits ask their family and friends to send them airtime which they then sell to fellow inmates. The airtime is sold at a minimum of 30% less than the actual Rand value; nowhere will anyone be able to get airtime as cheap. The rewards a phone brings far outweighs the risks, so cell-phones will always be found in prisons.
In the technological world we live in today, we are all inadvertently oblivious to the incredible power of communication. The ability to be in contact with those we love is something we take for granted. When I had all the means at my disposal, I hardly maintained contact with those who I yearn for today.
So whilst it’s nice to update your status, upload selfies or post random thoughts for the world to see; take the time and means you have to just lift the phone and personally share your feelings the old fashioned
way. Better still is to spend quality time with those dear to you before all you have is memories.
