The Battle To See Proscovia

This trip to Nepal, my third, is going to be remembered unfortunately with great disappointment.

 

I hadn't planned to travel to Nepal this year but after the devastating earthquake that the country experienced in April 2015 I just felt I needed to go. One of the people I was most concerned about and felt the need to check on, was Proscovia, a Ugandan woman imprisoned in Nepal. We met in 2009, and spent a lot of time together during my prison visits that year while I was here. We maintained sporadic email contact after that and in 2012 I came back and saw her as much as possible during the month that I was here. I now refer to her as a friend rather than just someone I know in prison. And knowing that she has nobody in Nepal, nor an embassy to check on her wellbeing, I wanted to come and see her myself.

 

From what I know 16 prisoners died in Kathmandu during the earthquake. My friend was able to confirm through the newspaper that Proscovia wasn't one of them. I wasn't so much worried that she had died, but about how the prisoners were managing during a time of chaos in the country. I wondered if supplies were being brought in, and even more so, I couldn't help but think of the terror the prisoners would feel locked up inside when the rest of Kathmandu was so scared to be indoors that they were sleeping in the streets, or in the little green space that the city ha

 

 

I arrived late on a Friday night and gave myself Saturday to acclimatize before heading to the prison. I also knew that Saturdays were super busy at the prison as most Nepali people have the day off, and take the day to visit loved ones.

 

 

I knew from my last visit in 2012 that I would likely need to speak with the jail warden in order to be granted visits. Reason being is that sometime before that there had been a shooting by a foreigner, I believe an Indian national, against a Nepali, and so after that they cracked down on foreign visitors. You would think the bigger concern would have been how the guy got through with a gun but whatever...Instead the new rule was that you couldn't visit a prisoner unless they were from the same country. This is when Proscovia stopped getting visitors, mainly Canadian volunteers who arrived monthly and as part of their orientation were brought to the prison as I had been in 2009. Before I had left I had secured Proscovia's spot as one of the people they would visit, as a means of support for her. But this was no longer.

 

 

I recruited my best Nepali friend Prakash to come and communicate with the warden for me. Not knowing how it was going to go I packed my bag with only a few things for Proscovia..mainly basic clothing items. We walked there, a route that I have taken many times, and as we got closer I got more excited, but also more anxious.

It seemed very busy and police were everywhere, more than I remembered from before. Foreign visitors are rare so right away we were greeted and ushered to speak with the jail warden. I knew the way and so led us up. It's hard to believe how accessible the warden is to the public actually. His office has a simple curtain on the door, Prakash peeked inside, greeted him and in we went. He clearly is not worried about his safety as we hadn't even been searched yet. There were several other men sitting on a couch in his office, but despite him having visitors we sat down and Prakash went into his spiel about why I was there.

I should add that I was feeling so uncomfortable at this point, as I had chosen to wear a pair of jeans with a hole in the thigh area. Nothing skanky but I don't know what I was thinking in packing them to go to such a conservative country. I asked Prakash before we went if they would be ok, and he assured me yes. But as soon as I got there I felt like an idiot. And in fact, I now credit these jeans as the biggest packing failure of my life as my patch of white skin has turned out to be a beacon in the night for Nepali men. 90% of them stare at this hole, and so obviously so that it is insane! It honestly makes me feel like a naked whore. Sorry for my language. But that's how I felt that day, sitting there covering my hole trying to look respectable and at the same time cursing Prakash for telling me it was okay. Clearly he was just being polite :)

Anyway, I could understand enough from the random English words i.e. embassy, to know what the result was, and it wasn't good. My heart just sank.

I learned after that a couple years back, shortly after I was there, the rules had tightened even more and that now if you wanted to visit a foreigner, you needed a letter of support from an embassy. This was the worst news ever as I knew that a Canadian embassy wouldn't get involved in a matter involving a non-Canadian. I also knew that Proscovia hadn't received so much as a visit from a Ugandan embassy in the 7 plus years she has been imprisoned.

Prakash explained that I had visited extensively here before, the last time in 2012 with special permission from the previous warden. That didn't change things, but in the end he suggested that I try and find a police officer that knew me from before, I assume for some assurance that I hadn't been a problem before.

So out we went and I immediately started to scan everyone to see if there was someone that I knew. I've visited so much over the years that I was confident that I would know some officers, many who had been quite friendly with me, inviting me to celebrations, giving me their emails etc. I was kicking myself in this moment for not keeping names, or keeping in contact as you never know when you are going to need people, especially in a country when who you know can be so important.

So we stood on the dirt road within the prison while I searched for someone I knew. Other officers came over to find out what was going on, and Prakash proceeded to explain the situation. One officer who seemed to be high ranking came over and told us what we already knew in terms of the embassy position. He took us over to the registration area and showed us the directive in Nepali stating same. He was really nice though taking it upon himself to go around the prison with my passport trying to find someone who knew me. We continued to stand there which I was fine with thinking that the longer we stood there the better chance I had of seeing someone.

We waited for quite awhile and in the end he couldn't find anyone. He wouldn't let me walk over to one of the other registration areas where I used to know most of the officers but it probably wouldn't have made a difference anyway as we were told that the officers were rotated every six months. That could explain why I didn't recognize anyone. They all looked like they had just come out of high school. I was feeling so dejected at this point.

Then as we continued to stand around with a bunch of officers a group of guys walked by. My story started to be re-told again. Well all of a sudden I hear one guy say to me something like "you visited Jerry." I screeched "yes" and I was so excited that I think I hit this guy on the arm as if to say yessssss you know meeeee!!!!

Teo Jerry was the first prisoner I met in 2009. A man from Nigeria who had been imprisoned in Nepal for over 20 years on a drug trafficking case. I spent a lot of time visiting Teo before he was released and it was he who told me about Proscovia. There was a small group of African prisoners in the prison at that time and they all looked out for eachother. It bothered Teo that Proscovia had been in prison for 1.5 years by that time and hadn't received a single visitor, as in the Nepali prison system it was hard to survive without outside support.

I didn't recognize this guy really but he recognized me from this time when I used to visit Teo, as well as my buddy Surendra, a Nepali who had since been released. When he also mentioned Surendra's name I could have kissed him as I had lost contact with him when he left Facebook. He told me that Surendra was currently in Europe but that he was returning soon. I was thrilled to hear that as I was really hoping to see him while I was here, and as a free man for the first time.

Turns out this guy, named Aakash, is like Surendra in that he too is a prisoner, but also a guard.

If you haven't read my previous blogs about the Nepali prison, the system here is really interesting in that like any other prison the police guard the outside of the prison, control who comes in and out etc. But it is the prisoners who actually run the prison from the inside. So once you are allowed entry and go to the section of the prison where you are visiting, it is the prisoners who are fetching the person you want to see, telling you when you have to go etc. And they control everything else that needs to be controlled on the inside. Being a prisoner/guard is an earned privilege and along with it comes some perks such as getting escorted outings, being able to order things from the outside, and walk around the prison grounds freely as Aakash was doing. Surendra even used to have his own dog in the prison!

Prakash was shocked at this; that Aakash was walking around freely, how others were referring to him as "dai" which means "older brother" reserved for any male who deserves more respect. He also noted how Aakash was dressed so well and that he walked very confidently as if he was someone important. Surendra was the same way.

Aakash explained that he had been caught with drugs almost 10 years before and that he had served about 9 years of his sentence. He was set to get out in about 6 months and was obviously looking forward to it. I took Aakash's number so I could have him pass on my number to Surendra. I was super excited about this..something good was happening at least.

Since I had technically found someone who knew me and he was a guard, I asked Aakash if he could vouch for me with the warden. He was fine with that so back we went, this time Prakash and I waiting outside while Aakash went in to talk to him. He was in there for some time (and again, how fascinating of a system that a prisoner can just walk in and talk to the warden). That would never happen in North American prisons. Unfortunately though Aakash's "reference" didn't do me any good as the warden's position didn't change. I needed a letter from an embassy. Why he had me go try and find someone who knew me when it made no difference in the end I'm not sure. But I thanked Aakash for trying and we left, me despondent.

I wrote to the Canadian Conuslate in Kathmandu about the situation that night. After no response, two days later I went there in person (which was a feat in itself to find). Upon arrival I learned that it was now just an "Honourary Consulate" open only 3 hours a day 5 days a week, with no Canadian staff and with no real powers to do anything. Apparently Harper shut down the Embassy here a few years ago. Thanks for that Harper..really stellar decision with thousands of Canadian tourists coming to Nepal each year.

That same week I met a Canadian girl from Montreal who had been robbed and needed to get a new passport. This "Honourary Consulate" brainchild was a nightmare for her in a time of crisis. And for me, it wasn't so positive either. The office was a rinky dink, one man kind of operation that as soon as I walked in to I thought was a make work project. It didn't seem like the guy did much of anything. And he pretty much told me this, that he wasn't able to do much from Nepal, and that anything official needed to be done at the Embassy in Delhi.

This guy was quite familiar with the new rigid prison rules as it turns out that he has to jump through the same hoops. Reason being is that there is a Canadian man serving a lengthy prison sentence in another part of Kathmandu. He visits with him quarterly which is a Canadian Embassy standard whenever a Canadian is imprisoned abroad. The new rules mean that he needs to get a letter from the Canadian High Commission in New Delhi each time he plans to see this man.

In regards to my situation, this Nepali guy, who I didn't have the greatest impression of, tells me that he had just returned from some training in Canada (2 days before) and hadn't seen my email. There were so many emails after 2 weeks away apparently. The only thing he offered to do was forward my email, which I needed to send to him again, off to New Delhi to see if they could help. But he added, it was unlikely given Proscovia wasn't a Canadian citizen.

He suggested I could try the British Embassy as he believed they used to provide support to citizens from countries with no embassy here in Nepal. I had actually tried them years before to get Teo some help, but hadn't had any luck, but I was willing to give it a try so off I went. Thankfully I remembered where to go.

Well that ended up being an all morning waste of time. Long story short I waited forever to get an answer as to whether they would assist someone from Uganda. I was feeling encouraged when I was finally told to go over to the Consulate building as someone wanted to talk to me. But when I arrived a guard with not so great English and I doubt understanding the situation, told me that as a Canadian citizen I wasn't allowed inside the Consulate. That if I was Ugandan they would speak to me but otherwise I had to email them regarding the situation. I was so frustrated by this point and couldn't believe I was being treated like this as a member of the Commonwealth! I emailed the British Embassy that night and have never received a response. Disgusting.

I also emailed the Ugandan Embassy in New Delhi. No response. I went back to the Canadian Consulate. My buddy didn't even recognize me at first, but he at least did confirm that he got my second email and that he had sent it to New Delhi. Apparently they were confused by the situation and had sent it off to Ottawa. The Consulate was going to be closed for a couple days that week for the Tihar Festival but he assured me he would email me if he heard anything. No word to date.

After not hearing anything from the Ugandan Embassy in New Delhi, I had a brainwave that perhaps I would have better luck with the Ugandan Embassy in Canada. So I wrote to them. No response. I then called New Delhi and actually got to speak with the Consulate, Debra. She told me that the email address on their website was wrong. That could be the reason they didn't respond. She also confirmed that the Ugandan High Commission in New Delhi knew nothing of one of their citizens being in prison in Nepal for 8 years. I was told to re-send my email.

Gaining some momentum from being able to speak with someone in New Delhi I next called Ottawa. A woman named Caroline answered the phone, telling me that the High Commissioner wasn't in the office. Our conversation started out with a simple explanation as to why I was calling, but turned into me telling her Proscovia's whole story. She listened, asked questions and expressed such compassion and non-judgement towards her, I was touched. She thanked me for my care and concern for Proscovia and expressed her hope that I would get a chance to see her. She told me to try back that day (which I did with no success) but that she would brief the High Commissioner of Proscovia's situation so when I called she would be aware. I was so thankful...

The next morning I called as planned and Caroline greeted me anxiously as if I was an old friend. I was passed on to the High Commissioner who like Caroline presented as being Ugandan like Proscovia. She started out by saying how touched she was that I was so concerned for Proscovia, thanking me for this and saying "all I can say is God Bless You." I expressed how lovely it was to hear care and concern for Proscovia, and more so the lack of judgement. She responded with something like, Crystal, if everyone ended up in jail for every mistake they made we would all be in jail. So true and so lovely..

Apart from those inspiring words she expressed that she wished she could help me, but that the High Commission in New Delhi as the closest to Proscovia was who must deal with the situation. I thanked her though and proceeded to call New Delhi again. After repeated calls and not being able to talk to Debra, I was passed on the message that my request had been forwarded on to Foreign Affairs in Uganda and that Debra would let me know when she heard something. I was so angry and frustrated by this point, I wanted to cry. All I needed was a simple letter and after 15 days and endless effort...nothing.

Not being able to connect with Debra and feeling that the pass off to Uganda was BS, I took a chance and reached out to Ottawa again given how supportive they had seemed. I wrote another email advising what had transpired since we had talked and that I was concerned that I wouldn't get to see her with less than a week left here.

As it is I have found it so hard to be in Kathmandu not being able to see her. To be so close yet there to be such a barrier. My time here has always been filled with prison visits and so I've felt a void without them. I've had a lot of free time and struggled with boredom, at times thinking of leaving early. But it's been too much of an effort to just bail out now. I have to see this through.

One day I took a chance to walk by the women's prison just to see, in hopes that maybe one of the guards would recognize me and call me over. It's kind of in an odd place as it is off a public road with stores and such but there are police all around. I pretended I was going to a store and just kept walking by seeing all the guards sitting outside as per usual. Nothing great happened like someone calling me over. On the way back the guards asked me where I was going and diverted me another way. I was glad I went anyway..

So that's where things are at on Day 16 and with few days left. I'll pick up the calling again tomorrow and will keep you posted...