Semana Santa; The Holy Week

#Semana #Santa or #Holy #Week; we joined the rest of #Christendom in celebrating #Easter. How went down here; the food came on #Friday, no meat but scanty mix sea food. You don’t need to see the shrimps and whatever is meaty inside the sauce, but it sure has the aroma of seafood. Who knows, maybe the sprayed some stuffs that smells like seafood in the sauce and brought it to us. But many dined on it as it was our last supper.

We did improvised as always by adding canned fish (supposed to be sardine or tuna, but ain’t either, whatever it is, nadie sabes; but smells like fish) and ate it with white rice.

It beggars belief to see how the mixture of oddities here will want to portray themselves as the faithfuls; well occasionally! Many abstained from eating meat and were crossed with me when I did push-ups before my shower on Friday. Well, I gave them words that they will forever remember even when I’m long gone.

Their #Christianity is based on how often one attends mass or services on Sundays, misa (prayers and rosary), Easter and Christmas and any type of religious holidays; but they seems to forget about the #GoldenRule; Love your neighbour as yourself. Told one, when you fail in one, you’ve flippin failed in the other nine. The dude wasn’t happy, they loathes the truth and love their hypocrisy lives.

So far, so good! The pavilion is calm, no groceries till Monday when things will come back to normal. So we’re on the edge of surviving and living on what scanty we have left. Have been eating flours in different forms; cooked and fried dumplings, it same flour and I’m flippin tired. So also is plantain, the sight of it turns my stomach, nothing for a change. Can’t even go near the prison rice as its sickening.

Being a Holy week, had expected bit of decency among my fellow Crime-travellers; God has done His job, now they are doing theirs. Dope, booze and Smoke fills the air simultaneously as the intimate inmates share some gay time in blissful atmosphere of la estrella, what more can a man do; locked up and left for fate and destiny to decide their fate. Such is our la vive Les miserables.

It’s Saturday, still another 24hours to go, gotta be a very long boring day. But glad I could sleep out my hunger.

My sick compatriot; one moment he look and sound normal (normal like everyone of us, as one can’t tell what is normal when you’re locked up, everyone is acting in way, which compared to life outside; we’re all lunatics). And the next moment, he flips and talks in languages of “Angels” as he puts it. Many still believe, he’s not back from his walkabout! Hope he comes back soon. He’s been far too gone. He just called me and gave me the Westside sign with his fingers, but also reminded me that “W” is his surname; hope he’s not being a stuntman. But he’s got loads of enemies; mostly among the smokers as he rushes people to smoke and pass him their fags. So funny when you watch him beg for fags, hope he comes back. Earlier, he offered me food, well, I was hungry, but won’t eat from him no matter how enticing it looked.

His medications are to calm him for a moment, but won’t cure him of his illness; if there’s a true cure for madness, how will the pharmaceutical company’s bosses lined their pocket and keep their fat bank account “robust”? It’s a cool way to keep the circle and the chain going. Keep them on it and we make Dem drugs to keep them on; thus, they’ll always come back to buy more.

Been sitting by the wailing wall as the signal is splendid, but inmates who can’t keep to themselves won’t let me be, I enjoyed my Irish coffee with my fellow blogger, one that shouldn’t be here; very talented guy. Pray it goes well with him.
Now, comes Gringo loco; an American here for as long as I have been here, his case seems to be going no where. He said something that sends a message home. “it cost the government nothing to keep us all locked up here”, “there are many here who don’t like Blacks, Latinos, Chinese, but are forced to live along each other side by side”! Of a truth, he is right! The government throws us into this bottomless pit and we are left to fend and savage for our survival; not even the sick are taken care of. Like Gringo-Loco rightly put it; never has there been a death caused by illnesses that could’ve been treated and is announced on TV the way it happened; inmates died of drug overdose, the government won’t say that. The lad that died of Asthma; they never made mention of that. Every deaths is reported as AIDS-RELATED illness! Such are the lies of our Host government. Gringo is one of the lively and sane but occasionally loses his sanity when he has to do it; self-mutilation, acts up with the cops as he knows and is fighting for his rights, not as a prisoner but as a human being.

Back home, my family are doing wonderfully, loads of learning and growing; with such comes loads of reasoning as questions upon questions kept pouring forth; “But, Daddy, you’re taking a long time”…..that’s from my 5yrs old boy. But my lil girl is tired of waiting, hers is more like “How can I believe you again, you won’t come soon”. How I wish I have answers to their questions; little do they know that so much around me now is in the hands of fate and certain people to decide.

Such is our lives; “Bitter Sweet symphony”……..

[Reminds me of #TheVerve – Bitter sweet symphony;

Trying to make ends meet, you’re a slave to the money then you die
I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet……..
but I’m here in my mold , I am here in my mold,
But I’m a million different people from one day to the next
I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no.

Well, I’ve never prayed,
But tonight I’m on my knees, yeah
I need to hear some sounds that recognise the pain in me, yeah
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind , I feel free now
But the airwaves are clean and there’s nobody singing to me now]

I see me and my fellow crime-travellers in this song. So much are we muddled in that many can’t find their way out in the maze of life, life itself is a puzzle; much is needed to fix these great disorientated puzzles of ours.

Time they say, heals old wounds, but time also reopens old wounds. Will time help us or be against us? We are left to battle our fate and destiny in any way we can; it’s “Survival of the fittest, smartest and whose got the fattest Bank account”…… that can buy one’s way out of here; Freedom For the highest bidder.


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