What is a Rwandan prison like?

Interesting experience last week! We were visiting the former Bible student of a brother in the congregation. This ex-student was born in the U.S. to an American father and a Rwandan mother. He came here a few years ago to work as a church project coordinator (I'm not sure of the exact title), married a Rwandan woman, had two kids, and ended up staying here.

He studied the Bible with us for awhile, but then got too busy and stopped. And he never came to one of our meetings, even though he was invited many times. So it was a great surprise to the brother a few weeks ago when he received a call from the man's wife, stating that her husband was in prison and wanted the brother to come visit him.

He is in the main prison of Kigali, which used to be located in town, but recently it moved out of town to a place high up on a hill. It should be mentioned that this prison houses some really bad criminals, including those who were responsible for slaughtering others during the genocide.

We underestimated how much time it would take to get there: two hours on three buses. (The whole experience, round-trip, took about nine hours.) Since we are in the dry season, the road leaving town was full of dust, which is kicked up by all the vehicles.

Then, we still had an uphill hike through two security checkpoints, and a place where you check in your bags, including cell phones, tablets, etc. While the brother was checking in for us, I went to a kiosk where they sell everything from bottled water to beer, to buy something for the prisoner.

After this, we went to a covered waiting area with wooden benches to sit along with 500 other people who were visiting inmates. The way it works is this: You sign up to visit a certain prisoner, and then they call about 50 at a time, wearing either orange or pink jumpsuits (there is no difference between the colors, I was told), to the covered area. You are allowed five minutes with the prisoner, after which someone beats on this drum hanging from the ceiling, and then the prisoners return to their cells. Then, another 50 are brought in, and this process goes on all day until late afternoon. I should mention that the only day that visitation is allowed is Friday. Imagine that! Visitors make the arduous trip out of town, only once a week, for five minutes!

Well, we didn't see our prisoner for several hours, even after the brother spoke to the "chief" prisoner (yes, some prisoners due to good behavior, I would imagine, are allowed greater responsibilities, such as helping to coordinate the visitation process), who told us that, yes, his name was called. Of course, he has an American name, and maybe if it was pronounced with a strong Kinyarwanda accent, perhaps he didn't hear it called. So the "chief" prisoner said to the brother, I know that person you mentioned, let me go personally and try to find him. The result was that finally, after 3:00 p.m., the prisoner we were looking for came out. At first we didn't recognize him, especially with his shaved head, but he knew me because I have been on this Bible study before, and let's face it, how hard is it not to see someone Chinese in a sea of African faces?

So, how much can you say in five minutes? He said he was accused by a pastor in his church of misappropriating money. He has been in prison for two months already, and the trial is coming up in October. How long could he stay here? Anywhere from two months to two years. He did say that the pastor who accused him has apologized, so maybe this will work in his favor at the trial. How many people in his cell? About a thousand. Which means there is barely room to lie down. It's horrible. The prison provides only one meal of maize porridge a day. So, when visitors come, they can bring food, which the prisoners no doubt appreciate.

I asked him, has anyone besides your wife and us come to visit you? He said no, everyone in his church has abandoned him.

I can only imagine the despair felt by this man, who cannot speak much Kinyarwanda and thus has no one to talk to, facing the prospect of possibly spending years in this place. At the end of our five minutes, he was on the verge of tears.

Earlier in the year this guy, by the way, was robbed and beaten while walking late at night on a dirt path to and from his church. For some reason, he had his U.S. passport with him; that and money was stolen. Getting another passport was understandably a hassle.

So if and when he gets out, this is what I would tell him: Go back to America. Find a way to get your wife and kids over there, and don't come back to Rwanda. You will always have this hanging over your head.

The only bright spot of this whole situation is that maybe, after serving his term, he will realize that our religion is the only one that showed love to him and this will prompt him to do something for the truth.