I am the voice of the forgotten political prisoners. I have lived in a windowless torture chamber 24 hours a day for the last 20 years in solitary confinement. The prison cracks think I am out of control, a threat to the so-called safety and security of the facility. I am falsely accused. They tried to break my will; my will to resist, no human contact, terrible food, chronic sensory deprivation, constant searches of my cell by racist police, daily tampering with my food and mail, all because I seek to change the conditions of life in prison. Some would rather die.
I am the voice of Kevin Mitchell– denied his psych medication by prison guards. He threatened to commit suicide, but wasn’t taken seriously. Next door to me, he ripped up all of his sheets and clothing. He ripped up his legal mail, his mattress, and more. He popped his electrical socket to make a fire, then put himself in the middle of it. By the time the shift supervisor got to him, he was already dead. I tried to talk to him and talk him down, but he was too far gone. The smell of his burned flesh made me vomit up my breakfast the following morning. I say a silent prayer for him.
I am the voice of Conrad Abu-Fletcher. This man was once the epitome of robust energy and youth. Abu-Fletcher developed diabetes in his late 30s. He later developed gangrene in both of his legs. They had to cut them off. Six months after his surgery, he died.
I am the voice of brother Quarter and brother Bogey Bay. They introduced me, and educated me, on prison life when I came in as a young man. They each had severe chest pains one day, but were sent back to their cells. These men died from massive heart attacks at the hand of uncaring healthcare administrators and disrespectful staff. They were my early teachers.
I am the voice of the conscious revolutionary men fighting to expose and confront the inhumane health and living conditions on the inside. They violate our 8th Amendment rights. The Constitution says cruel and unusual punishment shall not be inflicted. They violate our 14th Amendment rights. The Constitution says, “nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property without due process of law.”
I am the voice of brother Louis Hill and brother Rashid Bay. Brothers were in the same struggle. We have never let the threat of being transferred to the deepest hole in one of these prison plantations, or having ourselves trashed and property thrown away, stop us from our duty to resist being dehumanized. Now I fight to change conditions in prison for myself and others. I have spent the last 20 years in solitary confinement. I have been in prison for 27 years. Now I fight to demonstrate a non violent show of prisoner solidarity. Now I fight to organize a no-talk no-eat and letter writing campaign, because I know this is necessary to reach the people and receive the support we need to challenge the dehumanization being leveled against us on the inside.
Now I fight to protest and demand an immediate resolution to these conditions. Now I fight for educational, recreational, religious, and cultural activities for prisoners mental and physical well being, because this is necessary for our survival and our re-entry back out into society with those people who love us and we love also. Now I fight to prepare for reintegration into society. We are on the right side of history for standing up in support of our human and civil rights. Together, we are strong. Solidarity and unity wins the day. The struggle continues. We are the voice of the forgotten political prisoners. We will no longer be forgotten, or we will no longer be silenced. Peace. This is the voice of political prisoner Khalfani Malik Khaldun.
These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio.
