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This is an archive article published on December 9, 2003

Freedom in a prison

Long walk to freedom. The name evokes images of a timeless journey. While reading the story of Nelson Mandela’s epic struggle, I didn&#...

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Long walk to freedom. The name evokes images of a timeless journey. While reading the story of Nelson Mandela’s epic struggle, I didn’t know that some day I would visit Robben Island. It was muggy as we searched for the tour that would take us there. Cape Town’s waterfront looked fabulous. Suddenly we spotted it — the Nelson Mandela Gateway to Robben Island.

A sparking building on the waterfront, with long lines at the ticket window. The building houses a museum on the struggle against apartheid. It is state of the art. Reading about something creates images in one’s mind and self created images rarely hurt. While the real images can horrify. As I walked through the museum I understood this. Such a long, bitter struggle for the recognition of basic human dignity!

The launch took off for the 30-minute journey from Cape Town to Robben Island. A minuscule distance between two separate worlds. Scores of seagulls were flying over the rocky coast of Robben Island as we disembarked. A swanky bus was parked nearby. Our guide asked the nationality of all those present. Twenty-five countries represented in nearly as many people!

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Robben Island is big and not just a prison as I had imagined. It has roads, residential areas, a church and a school. In the distance when the mist lifts one can see the silhouette of Cape Town.

The bus wound its way to the limestone quarry where nearly all the VIPs of today’s S. Africa worked. The blinding light in the quarry hurt the eye. Mandela and his comrades dreamt of a free land in this harsh locale?

Thereafter, we reached the famous prison of Robben Island. Our guide in prison was Eugene Mokgoasi, himself a political prisoner who had spent more than 8 years there. A tall strapping man, he told us his story with candor and clarity. His voice did not falter nor the intensity of his gaze diminish. The pressure and weight of his narrative was felt by all of us. The prison seemed to suffocate and close in upon us.

We visited the famous Cell No. 5. A small cubicle where Mandela spent 18 years. Today it is locked ever since someone stole the spoon used by him. Now, inside one can see his blanket and plate. How can anyone hold on to a dream in such surroundings? The dreary prison walls do not provide the answer. From education for the prisoners to dismantling of apartheid — every single dream was fought for and achieved. The prisoners studied in bathrooms that were lit, they also shared their knowledge with warders who cared to learn. A group of people, belonging to different tribes, groups and political ideologies argued, talked and discussed and agreed on a blueprint for a future South Africa. Learning along the way to respect differences, appreciate the value of truth and pave the way for reconciliation. Robben Island is not a prison monument. It is a symbol of what human beings are capable of. It is a temple to the human spirit. Which walks free even behind prison walls.

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