Dear Diary...
I took these photos as I waited for my other colleagues whom I work with on the 'Beyond the Sentence' project in Langata Women Prison.
My butt had to endure the cold 'seat' for thirty very interesting minutes. I was swept away to a far land by old and fresh memories enough to ignore my current read.
I had finally managed to beat that nauseas car sick effect that had crept on me a few minutes to the capital. I was nervous the rest entire trip... I hate throwing up.
A few feet across me, stood a woman who either didn't recognise me (I have changed since she last saw me) or she couldn't bring herself to even look at me. She was among the wardens that made my one and a half years' sentence, a living hell.
I wondered if she changed... Or if she's still the same? If she thought her way was rehabilitation or worse?
I meditated on my time in prison. Revisited the pain it came with... the shame it weighed on my soul... the surviving prison and reintegration to the cold society...
For those thirty minutes, I took a walk down a memory lane. I wanted to smile at how easy it's getting to go back there as a lesson but I recalled they are times I stagnate while inside the main prison. I acknowledge for this far I am proud though.
Steepshot