To prison and back... for a lively football tourney

The only black book my name has ever featured in was my graduating class yearbook. My closest shave with crime was as a victim of a desperate thief who was later stoned by angry construction workers.

And yet here I was, kilometres away from home, with the prison gates opening in front of me.

The 200 acres that is the Kamiti Prison area, in Kiambu County, Kenya, is quite intimidating — with guards perched on watchtowers looking over the giant walls that separate the prisons.

Within minutes, I surrender my identification documents, my cell phone and all contact with the outside world. For the next seven hours, I am a guest of the state at Kamiti Prisons.

The boys in striped pajamas from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison walk towards the Medium Security Prison. Two by two, as if headed for Noah’s Ark. The cuffs between them do little to curb their excitement, for it’s a day out of the wards.

As they draw nearer to where we stand, the mix of chatter and laughter gets louder. This quickly dispels the chill in my bones. After watching countless episodes of the popular TV series Prison Break and Break Out Kings, I had imagined things to be a little different.

Being the only woman around, I get an overwhelming share of attention, winks and even greetings. Some even recite their phone numbers, just in case I would be willing to wait till they get out.

As we are guided towards the security office, the inmates are kept at a distance. They oblige. It’s a lovely day outside.
We exchange our press cards for visitor passes, with warnings of dire consequences should we lose them.

“Forgive me for doing this, but...” one of the wardens begins to say and, before I know it, her hands are all over me. It takes her a long minute to carry out a privacy violating search. Here, it seems, they take no chances.

Then it’s the inmates’ turn.

With all the reforms taking place in Kenyan prisons today, a few things have had to change. Previously known as Kamiti Downs, the prison played host to political prisoners like Kenneth Matiba, Raila Odinga, Koigi wa Wamwere, Ngugi wa Thiong’o and Jonah Anguka back in the day.

It no longer carries out executions. In fact, the longest serving hangman at Kamiti died in 2009 and there has been no replacement since.

And so, those with a death sentence to serve can afford a word of thanks to their maker, along with the fact that they can now wear underwear.

Today, the boys have something else to be grateful for. Kamiti Medium Security Prison is hosting the inter-prison football finals.

The place looks much better than most public schools I have been to. The well-manicured fences partition the administration block from the rest of the prison area. Gates are properly manned and every time a senior administrator comes along, hands go up in salute.

There are quite a number of salutes today as inmates from all over Nairobi are shuffled in under the watchful eyes of the Senior Assistant Commissioner of Prisons, Margaret Wanini Kireri, and her immediate juniors.

For starters, the field is set for a volleyball match between inmates and wardens. Clad in red, the team of convicted murder and robbery offenders vow to massacre the wardens’ hopes of a win. And they live up to their word, embarrassing the men in green.
Before long, the football finals begin. Industrial Area Remand inmates take on Kamiti Maximum inmates.

The cadet warden seated next to me finds the time in between heated passage of play to share his most frightening moment at his job.

“A few days back, I heard someone call out Afande! Afande! while I was walking in Nairobi. I almost panicked. It was getting late and I had been walking in a poorly lit corridor. Whoever was calling out to me must have been a former inmate,” he said. “That’s when you flashback to how you treat inmates because this could very well be someone out to settle scores.”

Much to his delight, the person was only saying “hi” and was peacefully enjoying his newfound freedom.

Wardens here are jolly and appear contented. They rejoice at a goal in their team’s favour and jokingly serve notice to their “opponents.”

The match is almost normal, complete with a Kiswahili commentator, who imagines the crowds going wild as they blow on vuvuzelas. For the most part, he’s keen on Maximum’s Rodgers Tedium, better known to many as Teddy, a former Mathare United player. Up until 11 years ago, being part of the Prison’s FC wasn’t in his plans.

“It’s simply a case of bad judgement. Back then, football wasn’t paying well and I got involved with the wrong crowd and planned a robbery,” he says during our interview after his team won 2-1.

Teddy gets nostalgic when he recalls the days when he didn’t have to change back into his prison uniform.

“I really regret the things I did. I’ve chosen to be hopeful that I’ll one day walk away from all this.”

But his offence — robbery with violence — earned him a spot for life at Kamiti, so he can only count on the President’s grace to pardon him. Until then, the 35-year-old finds solace in his soccer boots.

Teddy joins his friends in celebration as they take the trophy back to their quarters at Maximum. We join them for the tour.

Before this day, I had heard of an inmate slicing a warden with a razor, and perhaps worse things. But escaping from the Maximum Security Prison was a not even a distant thought.

The extensive wards are home to 3,229 inmates. Some inmates take part in the education programme, which requires them to attend class and sit for examinations at all levels. The basic Kenya Certificate of Primary School Examinations is offered, all the way to the Certified Public Accountant examinations.

About 600 of them take part in industrial activities, where they learn tailoring, manufacture number plates, furniture, making fabric upholstery, and participate in panel beating and spray painting of vehicles. The products are amazingly well made and surprisingly cheap.

A double-decker bed made to your specifications, for instance, could cost about Ksh20,000 ($222) at the Prisons showroom at Magereza House in Nairobi... but here, there’s room for a little bargaining.

“Our beds are so good, we guarantee twins,” jokes a warden.

Things are changing and soon the media channels could be airing productions made by prisoners as they are learning the basics of TV production.

As for sports, besides volleyball, there are about 12 football teams at Kamiti Maximum and they could very well bench Kenya’s Harambee Stars.

In fact, the boys would love a match against any of the teams in the free world. After all, they have lots of time on their hands.

As we leave, the inmates send us off with greetings to no one in particular. Their energies have been well spent, but another round of football never hurt an inmate, it would seem.