Friday, August 24, 2018

Letter from a prisoner - Scandals

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To varying degrees, it seems that every community has an innate perspicacity for scandal. The continued success of television soapies is indicative of our , excuse the pun, lust for scandal. Scandal seems to know no boundaries, for it is rather rife even within the seemingly sterile confines of prison; and with levels higher in intensity than the scripted screen narratives lol.
 Recently, social and mainstream media were abuzz with the solo exploits of a female prisoner. She used her cellular phone to create an explicit video of herself, which I am told would rival a hardcore pornographic production. The authorities were naturally furious but ultimately were unable to mete out the relevant punishment when it emerged that the video was ordered by her female warden lover. The young lady was however assaulted by fellow inmates- they were asked to do so by another inmate who believed she was in an exclusive relationship with the said warden.
Although I have known it for some time, I still find it baffling as to why male wardens are not allowed to work in female prisons. It may seem logical that they are simply protecting female prisoners from exploitation by the male authorities but this is not the case. On the contrary, it is male wardens who have been the victims of sexual abuse in female prisons and they simply cannot cope in female prisons.
Whilst scandals are the norm at the female prison across the road, the male prisons do not lag far behind. About a month ago, the deputy head of the prison led her searching unit on a rare night raid. As always, a few mobile phones were among the confiscated contraband. One phone was of particular interest to the internal security officer who inspected the contraband as he logged it. On the young man’s phone, he found numerous seductive and nude selfies of none other but the, then, deputy head herself! It then came to light that she had been involve in a virtual relationship with the young man for some time, virtual only as their plans for a more physical encounter were yet to materialize.
The now ex-deputy head is not the first and will certainly not be the last to be embroiled in scandalous activity. She should, perhaps, have learnt from some of her fellow colleagues one of whom was caught on two different occasions, at two different prisons, in the throes of passion with prisoners. This particular woman seems to be in candy land at work, for she has now gone even further than her own interests by selecting one of the hundreds of young men on offer to be her daughters boyfriend.
Aside from the inevitable prisoner/warder or prisoner/prisoner affairs, it is almost impossible for a prisoner to have a physical relationship with anyone else. Almost, being the operative word as nobody is as adapt at finding loopholes as a prisoner.
Legal visits were one such loophole that was exploited for some time, and would have carried on if it were not for the exuberance of one young man. Legal visits are not restricted like regular visIts, they are allowed on any day of the week and do not have a set time limit. They used to also take place in a private windowless room to ensure lawyer/client confidentiality. A prisoner whose wife is a lawyer made the most of this privacy during a legal visit from her. A few subsequent successful trysts brought his entrepreneurial skills to the fore. He arranged fake credentials for a prostitute, which fooled the authorities who allowed her into the prison as a lawyer. Naturally, she became a very,very popular lawyer. She had many successful satisfied clients before one guy could not contain his satisfaction and his shrieks of pleasure were mistaken as cries for help thereby alerting the guards.
What transpires behind these high walls is crazy indeed, and no one would be forgiven for thinking that prison must be a monotonous, boring ordeal lol. What surprises me is not the frequency of these events but rather the frequency with which I am asked about these types of happenings. Whether within or beyond these walls, it seems there is always an appetite for scandal!

Thursday, July 12, 2018

Letter from a prisoner - ring ring


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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.

Thursday, June 28, 2018

Do not judge others lest you wish to be judged



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As I reminisce on the years gone by, I recall how many of our grand parents were not that learned about Islam and religion. Many of our forefathers could not read Quraan with proper pronunciation. They never wore thobe but rather they dressed in style wearing beautiful suits and hats like their colonial masters. On joyous occasions they all went to the studio to capture their class and elegance that we all marvel at up until today. They may not have been clued up about religious do's and don'ts but they were kind people, people who spoke words of wisdom. They were caring and compassionate; they were stalwarts within their communities. They had little but they gave a lot. As time went by people started acquiring more knowledge about religion. I am of the opinion that when you become a person of God, you should be more humble more kinder and softer towards your fellow human being. Nowadays we are seeing the complete opposite. The more religious people are becoming, the more judgemental they becoming towards others. They walk around with an attitude of superiority and look down upon others. Instead of uniting people the enlightened ones with knowledge are causing division. To me, this is not Islam. Just because a person wears a religious dress code does not mean that the individual is religious. Being religious encompasses not only praying and preaching but it also entails being good and kind to you fellow human beings irrespective of race, gender or creed. In fact you need to be kind towards all of Gods creation including animals.During my travels I've witnessed so many strange and wonderful situations. I noticed a group of Muslims praying in a church in Spain. I seen women praying in their swimming costumes in Turkey. I seen a congregation of men and women praying in tattered clothing with no headscarves in Malawi as they were too poor to afford clothing. Does this mean that God will not accept their prayers? I never once judged any of these individuals as I am a human being myself. I am not sinless. I have faults and weaknesses. Their hearts are probably more pure and cleaner than my heart. God Almighty sees the inner most corner of our hearts. He knows our intentions. Don't ever assume that just because you dress religiously you are superior to another human being or you have the right to condemn other people or label others as non believers.Allah sees your heart not your clothes. Be kind to every soul that you meet. Spread love and happiness. Not hate and animosity. All five fingers are not the same. Hence you will meet all kinds of people from all walks of life. Your job is to create unity not division. We south african muslims have this strange complex whereby we think that we are the best muslims in the world. The remaining 999 million muslims in the world are stupid, ignorant and don't know anything about Islam. Wake up and smell the coffee..we are a tiny, insignificant percentage of the global Muslim population and that's a fact. Take stock of your own faults. Mind your own business. Become a better version of yourself with each passing day. Juma mubarak to all my friends and family across the globe. Kindly remember my family and I in your prayers.

Monday, June 18, 2018

Breaking the period taboo


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I was contemplating writing about this pertinent topic a while ago after listening to quite an appalling Islamic lecture a few months ago but then I got so engrossed in a number of activities that it totally slipped my mind. Yesterday whilst conversing with a young teenage woman from a fairly religious orthodox background, it rekindled my insistence on expressing my thoughts on a subject matter that affects women across the globe. The young woman came to the pharmacy to enquire as to how she should be handling her menstrual cycle. In her house talking about your menstrual cycle is pretty much a taboo topic. Her mom simply gave her a book about the subject matter and that was that. There was no further communication. It was quite obvious that she wanted more information as to how her body functions, what medication can she take to alleviate the pain etc etc. Her mom expected her to receive this information from school or through the internet. I am of the opinion that your first line of knowledge and education should be acquired from your home. Your home should be a safe haven and place where all kinds of topics and subject matters can be discussed openly without any fear or objection. Let’s get back to the lecture. One morning I was trying to audio stream my favourite radio station 92.2 Fm East wave radio at work. For some reason it just wasn't connecting. I continued surfing the net and landed up on an Islamic website that had a live audio streaming mode. I decided to tune in. As I was listening I couldn’t believe that such hogwash could be aired on an international level. The speaker said something to this effect, “It is unacceptable for a man to be attracted to members of the opposite sex unless he is married to her. If a man becomes attracted to a woman then in order to avoid attraction towards her, he should envisage her with dirty impure blood coming out of her. In this way he will be disgusted and then find her revolting. She will not be attractive to him anymore.” What absolute rubbish. Needless to say, I closed the website and moved onto reading somethig more interesting and captivating.A woman’s body was created so beautifully by God Almighty. If it wasn’t for the menstrual cycle none of us would be here. Why should women be ashamed of a normal, natural process that God Almighty created? Every atom of our being was created to perfection. Instead of coming on air speaking absolute rubbish, presenters should talk about how fathers must play an active role in their daughter’s lives. There are many men out there who are single parents and they have to play a dual role. Advise these men how to comfort their daughters when they go through this life changing experience. I know of one dad who has a daughter in a wheelchair. His wife died years ago and so he takes care of his daughter helping her through all aspects of life. Teach husbands how to be more empathic towards their partners during their menstrual cycle. The body undergoes several processes that involves cramps coupled with mood altering behaviour. The Prophet Muhammed (saw) was a kind, loving and caring human being. He would never preach such crap to a congregation. He was an advocate for women’s rights 1400 years ago. The more I read about different aspects of my religion, the more I find that a lot of what is instilled within us as kids stems from culture and tradition rather than religion. On the other hand of the spectrum, my beloved driver in Riyadh, Ayyob bhai educated me about how a woman's coming of age is celebrated in his culture rather than frowned upon. He hails from a small village in South India. When his daughter commenced with her first period, he gifted me with a box of sweetmeats. He was jovial and excited. The entire village was invited at their family home for a meal. I think we need to change the way we bring up a girl child in this country. In 2018 we still find women coming to the pharmacy feeling shy to buy a packet of sanitary pads or tampons.It must be hidden or placed right at the bottom of the trolley out of sight. In 2018, there are husbands out there who ask there wives to sleep in another room during their period. These are topics that need to be spoken about and addressed. Parents need to be more proactive in their kids lives. Be open to them about all facets of life. Be their friend and provide them with the correct information, because if you don't they will simply seek incorrect information elsewhere.


Friday, June 8, 2018

Dadi's words of wisdom

8 May 2018


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I woke up yesterday morning totally overwhelmed by the large number of birthday messages I received from all of you. Thank you so much for the well wishes. It truly means a lot to me and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Some of you went as far as sending me cards and gifts to the pharmacy. Thank you so much. A sincere thanks to all of you who sent me messages of condolences due to the passing away of Dadima. Kindly remember her in your prayers.

I wanted to share with all of you some of Dadimas words of wisdom that she conveyed to me during her 2 week stay at our home...Dadima spoke in Gujurati and conversed in English occasionally.

1. Always pray on time. If you can pray now. Do it now. Don't say I'll do it after this or that. In between the angel of death could take your life away and then you missed out on an opportunity to pray. Ever since I've known ma, she always prayed on time. Up until recently she would wake up at 4am to pray.

2. Never leave the house wearing torn underwear. You may land up in an accident and other people would then handle your body and prepare your body for burial. Don't give people and opportunity to talk.

3. Always be clean in terms of personal hygiene at all times. Wax etc regularly so that when you die your body is presented to God Almighty in a pure clean form.

4. If someone argues with you. Push it in one ear and take it out the other.

5. If you do decide to get married, marry a man for his character not his money. Character is forever but money is temporary.

6. If you decide to get married and you stay with your in laws, learn to overlook faults. Become deaf, dumb and blind. In this way you will stay happy.

7. Always keep your house neat and tidy. Don't stack up dirty dishes in the kitchen sink at night. The angel of death could take your life in the early hours of the morning. People would come to your home for your funeral and then they would assume that you were an untidy person. Ma was a very neat and tidy person. Even her travel bags were packed immaculately.

8. Give out sadaqa every Friday. It wards off calamity.

9. Learn your mother tongue. She always said it's such a shame that today's youth don't know their mother tongue so they can't even converse with old people and take their blessings. 


10. Lead a simple life always. Sometimes when a person is rich they have pride and arrogance and one day if that wealth is taken away from them they are unable to face the public. If you simple all the time you will save yourself from humiliation and embarrassment. 

May God Almighty grant ma the highest stages in jannah...She left this world in a blessed manner simply because of the way she lived. Even whilst in hospital her shahadah finger moved as though she was praying...As human beings we are so quick to judge people. She is good. He is bad. Yet only Allah knows what exists deep within our hearts. He is the judge of judges and the king of kings. Indeed to Him do we belong and to Him shall we return......

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

The end of an 85 year legacy

4th May 2018 

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As I stared at Dadis body shrouded in a piece of simple white cloth, there was only one thought that came to mind. Death is final. It is a journey that every soul will taste. It is a journey that many have embarked on but never returned to share the experience. As her soul left her body,Mrs Zubeida Mehtar lost her identity and was then referred to as 'the body'. All around me there were people crying, each one reminiscing on their interactions with ma. I was having flashbacks on the quality time we all spent together 2 weeks ago at our home. Ma would wait for us to return from work. Whilst we had dinner she and mom would enjoy a bowel of popcorn at the fire place. Mom went out of her way to make Dadis favourite foods.As I introspect on all our conversations we had I realise that she knew she was leaving this world for a better place. One Friday morning it was just the two of us at home. Mom and dad had to rush off to Cape Town to attend mom's uncles funeral. Before leaving mom gave me clear instructions as to how Dadi wanted her breakfast. First she would have a fruit, followed by a bowel of oats and then tea and rusks. Dadi loved her tea and it had to be served in a very big mug. She had this habit of squeezing her tea bags with a spoon making sure that the tea bag wouldn't go to waste. I guess she developed these habits due to her difficult upbringing. I'm not a breakfast person but Ma insisted that I join her for a cup of tea. I toasted a hot cross bun and obliged. Whilst chatting to her she poured out words of wisdom. She was insistent that I make an appointment with our in house beautician at Medix stressing on the importance of cleanliness. She said that life is so short tomorrow we can have an accident or pass away and other people would handle our bodies. She was very self conscious. I am so blessed that she spent an entire day with me at work. My staff were happy to have her and went out of their way to give her the respect she deserved. One of my male colleagues tried greeting Dadi with a hand shake. She refused stating, " Does the queen of England shake hands with strangers?..No right.. well I'm a queen too".. She was witty and straight forward too. She never kept anything inside her heart. Mom was the luckiest for being able to spend the entire day with her. They even went out shopping together and enjoyed a sumptuous lunch at a seafood restaurant. She loved mom's cooking and mom knew exactly how to prepare her meals. Due to the ulcers she had all her meals were prepared with no chillis and no ginger garlic masala. The only spices that she tolerated was turmeric, salt and jeera..Mom and her got along well as they both meticulous and fussy wanting everything to be packed in its place. Dadi loved fresh bedding every second day.I will always treasure the late night conversations we shared. She took me back in time as we travelled from 1933 until 2018. She had a remarkable memory. She remembered events as though it was yesterday. Dadi ma arrived in SA on the 8th of July 1940. She was 7 yrs old. She was born in Kathore in India and was very proud of her Indian roots, language and culture. In fact she was very annoyed that todays youth can not speak or understand their mother language. Her dad came to SA in search of work. Once he found a stable job he returned to India to bring his family over. World war 2 was about to commence and hence the ship they boarded from India was over booked with passengers. They landed up sitting on benches for three weeks as the cabins were fully occupied and double booked. It was after all the last ship to leave India. As soon as they arrived world war 2 began..Her family had to hang up dark blankets on the house windows so that the enemy can not see any light.Curfews were put into place and she always recalled just how traumatic her initial years in SA were. Dadi married Dada in 1978..Dad's biological mother passed away a year earlier and so dads father decided to remarry. It was Dadis second marriage as well. Her first husband passed away after 2.5 years of marriage due to illness. Dad's father Hafez Abdullah Mehtar was a well known personality as he was the principal at the school at Mias Farm. Through mutual friends Dada sent a proposal to Dadis family in Asherville asking for her hand in marriage. Dadi made me laugh when she said that a few family members and friends told her, " Zubeida you are a Randeree.You have a cook and driver in your papas house so how will you marry into the mehtar family that is so big with no cook." She discussed this with Dada who replied, " Yeh muqaddar ki baat hai.".. It's a matter of destiny. Dadi married Dada and walked into a huge family.Dada had 7 sons and 2 daughters. Dadi always recalled how she had to cook in huge pots everyday. Apart from cooking for her new family she also took care of students and teachers residing at the hostel. She had no kids of her own yet she was a mother to many. I must acknowledge that Dadi was a really good cook. Dadi also became a motherly figure to her sisters children. For a brief period of time her sister was ill and so Dada and Dadi brought the kids over from Durban to reside with them. She had a special relationship and bond with her nephews and nieces. She only spoke to them in Gujurati and took care of them as though they were her own kids.As a child I was closer to nani than dadi but as I grew older I developed a bond with her as well..I loved giving her a hearing. Being in her company was like being in the presence of a walking encyclopedia. There was still so much I wanted to ask her, there was still so much I wanted to say to her. Treasure your loved ones especially the elderly. Old people don't want your money, all they desire is a plate of food coupled with love and care. Give them a hearing and keep them happy.. May Allah grant Dadi the highest stages in jannah and fill her grave with lots of light.How fortunate she is to depart this world on a mubarak blessed night. An 85 year legacy has come to an end but will definitely not be forgotten...Please remember her in your prayers.....