24 hours with the devil!!!

A New Dawn 5

It was another brand new day and I decided to go for a jog at dawn. It was still fairly dark outside, I was putting on a brown T-shirt, a white shorts, a white socks and a black sneakers. I jogged 15 kilometres across town as I sought to clear my head through exercise before resuming my activity for the day. After my daily morning run, I proceeded to get dressed for work. It was my first day of work back in this town, the city of Phils and the agenda I had for the day was to visit the Phils Correctional Centre so I can talk to a few inmates and try to help those in need of legal services. As usual, I was dressed in a white shirt, a black tie with white stripes, a black suit and black shoes to match. The Phils Correctional Centre was not too far from my current place of residence, Jennifer’s house and I only had to drive 35 kilometres to the Phils Correctional Centre. En route to the Phils Correctional Centre, I noticed black folks on death row engaging in hard labour by clearing the nearby bushes adjoining the pathway along the road. They were all dressed in white overall jumpers, they carried hoes, shovels, dibbers and other equipment used for menial jobs. They were chained by their legs and they were being watched and supervised by white prison wardens, holding guns, dressed in cowboy hats, the regular light blue and black shirt, black trousers and black boots. I watched as I drove by. I got to the prison, I passed through the security check at the entrance of the prison, went into the prison and submitted the necessary documentation to the prison warden in charge. Normally, lawyers receive federal funding from the government and the lawyers are usually allowed free passage to speak with the inmates upon arrival and subsequent request. I was scheduled to see six clients on this day and I waited patiently as the prison warden checked his log. While checking the log, he kept on wasting my time and looked at me occasionally from the corner of his eyes as he checked the log. I could not tell what he was thinking but he was spending a lot more time than usual while checking the log. “I should be in the log; I have a schedule to see six clients today” I said as he looked through the log. “I have not seen you before” he replied. “Its because I just moved her”, I said back to him. He looked at me once more through the corner of his eyes, this time with a little bit disdain. “Well, I have to search you. Just go into that room and take off all your clothes” he said. “What is wrong? Attorneys are not strip-searched for legal visits” I replied, albeit worryingly. “Well, you are not going to visit s**t unless you get into that room and strip” he said slightly raising his voice. My temper had started to boil as I stared and looked at him angrily. “Lets go” he continued. I stared one more time at the other warden who acted less concerned while he flipped through the pages of the magazine he was holding. Well, I picked my briefcase and followed him into the room with a visible rage written all over my face. I took off my suit, shirt and vest and handed them over to him as he searched them and through them roughly on the floor. He asked me to take off my trousers and underwear as well and searched me as if I were a criminal. I looked at him with anger and frustration while he gave me an annoying wink and smiled wickedly as he saw the anger and frustration clearly written on my face. It felt like he was mocking me and I felt totally embarrassed and was filled with rage. I had clients to meet up with and I did not want this incident to ruin the rest of my day. I proceeded to go see the clients I was scheduled to meet. The first client I met was a man named Mr Joseph Springs. He was a slightly aged man of about fifty to fifty five years of age, he was bald, had wrinkles on his face, clean shaved, wore a pair of glasses and stuttered as a result of an illness he was currently suffering from. I encouraged him to tell me his story and how he ended up on death row. He was initially in the army and usually fought in the front line. He specialized in making and defusing bombs while he was in the army. As usual, the blacks were mostly the ones in the front line of the battle field and he saw a lot of friends die during the course of wars he partook in. As a result of having to face the traumatic effects of war for many years and the impact of a bomb which exploded very close to him, he sustained a lot of injuries which disfigured him and also started suffering from PTSD, a mental condition in which he becomes totally ignorant of his actions at a particular point in time, the condition makes one act erratically and makes one perform acts that he is totally unaware of. Despite fighting several wars in the army for so many years, he was discharged from the army after suffering injuries which made him incapable of engaging in warfare. He was not given proper medical care and he was sent off to fend for himself with nothing to show for his service to the country. His condition worsened and this led to him accidentally killing a young woman due to the illusion created in his mind that he was on the battle field. “I did what they said I did”, he said to me. “I shot her” he continued. “I know it does not make sense but I did nit mean to kill anybody. I think they are going to set my execution soon. The last lawyer said that there was nothing left to do”. I sighed deeply after hearing his story and replied thus, “There is always something that we can do. Whatever you did, your life is still meaningful and I will do everything possible to keep them from taking it”. With tears circling round his eye lids, I encouraged him to tell me more details about his life while I took notes on my jotter during the client interview session I had with him. I proceeded to meet with the other four who I talked to and they told me about how they each ended up on death row. They all had one thing in common, though. Their attorneys did not really put in effort to make sure they even stand a chance during their trial. According to one of the inmates, he said he was in court and had a trial but he felt he was on his own the whole time. Another one said that his trial only lasted for about twenty minutes and he was sentenced to death regardless. The sixth inmate’s case was a very peculiar case though and it was one which I took a very keen interest in. As I waited patiently, a tall man walked in, dressed in the usual white apparel for inmates, he had a moustache and he was a middle aged dark skinned handsome man. He sat, stared at me a few seconds and began by saying “The last lawyer who handled my case sat where you are sitting right now and said to me, “John, you don’t have to worry about anything because everything will be alright. I was given a death sentence, my family ran out of money, all our money ran out and he ran out. So, tell me what you are going to do differently”. “Well, the first thing we are going to do is apply for a retrial” I said to him. “I already did and it was denied. Check your files, it is right there in your files buddy”, he said. “Well, the we can ask for a reconsideration on that, then a direct appeal to the court of criminal appeals then work our way up to the state Supreme Court and if we get denied there, we can file a federal petition and if all that fails, we can take your case all the way up to the Supreme Court”, I said to him. “You do not know what you are into, right? Do you think it is actually that simple? Do you think all offences is going to get you somewhere here ion Phils? All they are goiung to do is eat you up alive and spit you out like a piece of thrash. They will treat you like they do treat every other black man that steps out of line. Even if you come out here with your fancy suits and speak all your legal terms, you have to realize that these people do not give a s**t about your suit because the only suit they want to see on you is the suit that I am putting on right now”. I looked at his eyes as he talked and I could see his pain, I could see his suffering, I could see a man who wants justice for what has been done to him. I felt pity as he talked and I could feel the pain he was feeling because I was also black. “Mr John, I totally understand how you feel…” I was saying before he slammed his two hands so hard on the desk which shook me a bit and freightened me slightly. “No, you don’t! No, you don’t” No, you don’t! You rich boy from Harvard, you don’t know what it is down here. Over here, you are deemed guilty from the moment your mama gave birth to your little black a*s. And even if you bundle yourself up with these white folks, work for them, clean for them, respect them, try to make them laugh, try to make them like you and even worship them saying “YES SIR, YES MA but when it is your turn, they do not need to have any finger prints, no evidence and the only witness they have, made the whole thing up and none of all that matters when these people think to themselves that I look like a man who could kill somebody” he said, sobbing gently. “But that is not what I think, Mr John”, I replied. I passed a handkerchief to him and he wiped the tears on his left eye and asked “Do you know how many people has been freed from Phils death row? None! So, what makes you think you are going to change that?” he said with a sad and hopeless look on his face. I sat there dumb and unable to utter a word further as Mr John stood up, turned the other way and walked back to his cell saying “I am not doing this again”. I called him as he walked away “Mr John, hold on! Mr John, please wait! Mr John, please come back, do not go yet. I am here to help!” I said as he walked back to his cell. “We are done here”, he said as he left me and walked back to his holding cell. John was escorted by the prison warden back to his cell. His cell was located at the second floor of the prison and it was next to Mr Springs’ cell; the man I spoke with first which was located at the left hand side of John’s cell and Mr Matt’s cell which was located at the right hand side of John’s cell. The three of them bonded very well in the prison and they formed a close friendship. Each cell was very small and tight, it had a small bed which could barely fit a full grown man, it had a tiny fan which was used for ventilation, a small door, no window, a very tiny black and white tv which was not in good working condition, a white fluorescent bulb and sheets of white prison apparel. The prison doors were made by metal and was controlled to open and close automatically, meaning it could not be opened by any individual except from the main control room. “John! John! John, are you there?”, Mr Springs called him out from his own holding cell. “What’s up, Springs?” Johnny replied “Ray!”, John cried out so they can all have a conversation as usual. “So, John, what do you think about the lawyer?”, Mr Springs asked. “I think he is a kid. He does not know what he is talking about. He is making all these promises that he is not going to keep!” John said. “I think he was nice”, Mr Springs replied. “Nice? What do you need a nice lawyer for? Nice is not going to take you anywhere. Just take a look at John, he was nice at everything and he still landed in jail despite being completely innocent of what he is being accused of. I am done believing any of these white folks who claim to be nice guys but meanwhile, they are fraudsters whose sole aim is to reap you off your money and leave you in total chaos to carry your cross all by yourself”, Matt said. “He is not a white guy, you know?”, Mr Springs replied. “Are you serious though? So, you are saying he is black? Maybe he is a blessing in disguise, who knows?”, Matt added. “He is just a spoilt rich kid who does not know what it means to grow up in a neighbourhood as ours. He does not know what it means to face poverty or be racially abused every day. I am pretty sure he is a fraud and he is not going to make much of an impact even if I had given him a chance. Honestly, it is a lost cause already. No one goes out of Phils Correctional Centre after being sentenced to death. That is our reality and it is something that we must live with having been born into this cruel system of things”, John added. Matt later told a joke and they all laughed about it. Afterwards, sounds were being heard from across the other cells hon the ground floor of one of the prison wardens beating up an inmate. Sounds of metal could be clearly heard and shouts of the prison wardens too could be heard as well. “Turn up the radio, Mr Springs”, Matt said, trying to get his mind off things and get a proper rest.

As per custom, Mr John took a bible in his cell, opened it and read it. While reading, tears rolled down his cheeks as he remembered his wife and children whom he left behind. He had not seen them since he was arrested and was convicted of murder. He missed them and longed to see them once again before he finally dies. Death to him was a fate he had already accepted. He also remembered, Mr David, the young lawyer who visited him earlier and thought to himself “Do I really have hope? Could there be hope for me? Will things be done differently?” These thoughts filled his head as he laid on his tiny matrass and fell asleep.