Troubling case of inmate X

I HAVE witnessed so much grave injustice over the time I have spent teaching classes, running skill-based programmes and debates in prison, but few cases bother me more than the case of inmate X.

I can’t give you X’s name or discuss his case because he has a capital charge before the court. Normally, a court date is good news for inmates on capital charges who often wait eight to ten years for their trials. But X entered YTC at 16 and has been working his way through the legal system for the last 14 years.

X was not in my first English class, which I wrote about in Wishing for Wings. I discovered him giving a passionate speech at a YTC Emancipation Day event. On that day, he won a prize – a basket of goodies with a variety of sweet and salty biscuits. He beamed with pride at the lusty applause. X thrived on recognition.

“Who is that, and why isn’t he in my English class?” I asked the first day I saw X. He appeared bold, articulate and confident. X’s personality proved to be the opposite of how he appeared. When X joined my class, he rarely spoke. He attended class regularly, wrote his assignments and got along with everyone – fellow students and officers. He didn’t get into arguments or fights. To this day I have never heard anyone utter a negative word about X. He made use of every opportunity he could get in YTC, from skill-based programmes to religious services. X proved to be quiet, thoughtful, soft-spoken and always smiling.

While I was there, X had been in YTC eight years waiting for his trial. Eventually I began to think he had slipped through the legal cracks. Through a friend of a friend, I checked this out and learned his file was in the DPP’s office and being processed. This was about six years ago. It took that long for a piece of paper to make it across desks in an office.

X finally got a trial last year. It ended in a hung jury. Now he has to wait for another trial date. It is quite possible he will be in prison for more than 16 years altogether before his case is finally decided. I might be optimistic with that estimate.

After all these years, I still cannot fathom how we throw minors in prison for a capital offence and then toss them into adult prison because the courts can’t find a way to hear cases in an expeditious manner. About 63 per cent of the people in our prison system are on remand, which means they are supposed to be considered innocent until proven guilty. The sluggish legal system certainly doesn’t make men and women feel that way.

Can you imagine the injustice of these long waiting periods for a trial? Think about the repercussions for an innocent teenager. They don’t grow emotionally or socially in prison. Their development is arrested at the age they were when they entered the system.

Long after I left YTC, I still remember X at family days and sports days pacing and scanning the edge of the playing field, hoping his family would show up. Nervous and frightened he would not have a visit, X silently stood vigil. He appeared worried and hurt. I used to say, “Don’t worry. If they don’t come, I will be your mother for the day.”

He would smile, but his eyes always reflected sadness, and the fear of being abandoned. X left home at 14 because he didn’t get along with his stepfather. All he wanted was a happy home. Somehow, he remains hopeful.

Someone in the legal profession explained X’s situation to me like this: “He’s trapped in a system that doesn’t have the capacity or the capability of handling the huge influx of work that has been created by the expanding population and increase of crime. Institutions were built and designed to handle a much smaller population. Physical infrastructure is inadequate. Work coming into the courts is increasing while staff is being reduced.”

It seems like cases aren’t being heard in some courts, but those in the legal system say there are judges who work far into the night just to keep up with their workload.

I can’t begin to comprehend the cost of keeping people in prison over a decade – and I’m not just talking about money. I’m speaking about the cost to society in general.

All I can say is the madness has to stop.