by Marco Maldonado
In Pennsylvania, a life sentence means life. Parole is unavailable and not an option by law. There are three ways that a person serving out a life sentence in Pennsylvania may leave prison: commutation, the overturning of your sentence through an appeal, or by death. Mostly everyone sentenced to life without parole in Pennsylvania expires while incarcerated. There are a few who have successfully overturned their sentences and convictions, along with others who have been commuted by the Governor, but those numbers do not even begin to compare to those who have died while imprisoned for life without parole.
It is because of this stark reality that many of those incarcerated in Pennsylvania call a life without parole sentence by its true name: Death by Incarceration.
Though a United States Supreme Court ruling in Miller v. Alabama created change for some, unfortunately, the change in law only applies to cases where the accused person was under the age of eighteen at the time of the crime’s occurrence. Now, the death by incarceration continues but is reserved solely for “adults.”
I was barely this — an adult — when I was falsely accused at nineteen years old. No one had given me a plan of action. There was no road map to follow. So, the first thing I chose to do was abandon everything that I believed contributed to my incarceration: people, places, and things. I needed to remove from my life anything that would blind me from seeing and realizing my goals.
I initially analyzed how most of my problems were related to drugs. One way or another, drugs played the spoiler role in my life, so I distanced myself from any activity that was drug related. Next, I stopped spending time with people that were still involved with the drug lifestyle. This had an immediate effect in my life because many of my friends were still involved with drugs. I had to explain to some about how I wanted to change and that I could not do so if I was still surrounded by and exposed to negative activity. Others needed no explanation and recognized how I was working toward transformation. In the end, all understood that ultimately, we have to stand alone on our own merit.
Finally, but most importantly, I became a practicing Muslim. By doing so, my decision to abandon all drug related activity and distance myself from friend was made easier. I began studying Tawheed (The Oneness of Allah), spending most of my time in the Masjid, and forming bonds with people based on religion, faith, and genuine love. I have heard that good comes from good. It was at this point in my life that I began to see how it was a true statement.
The notion of giving up never truly entered my mind. Perhaps, it may have been a fleeting thought, but nothing I ever gave true consideration. With a sound foundation, I began to incorporate all of the work ethic I learned from Islam and started learning the law relative to my case. I also began to participate in social justice groups that assisted in maintaining social skills that easily deteriorate while in prison. College courses were made available a few years into my incarceration, so I eventually earned a master’s degree with the help and support of many people. Yet, none of my accomplishments would be possible without the belief that Allah would help me if I helped myself. There is a part of a verse in the Qur’an that states, “so hold fast to Allah, He is your protector.” The explanation to this part of the verse is that I am to have confidence in Allah that He can do whatever I believe He can do. Those words have always driven me to succeed and proceed with conviction that I could regain my freedom, name, and be successful despite my past.
Incarceration is not easy, especially when you are innocent. Sadly, the criminal legal system does not notice the difference between the innocent and the guilty. In most cases, the exonerated are released from prison without an apology from anyone within the legal system. Where most of us come from, we are unfortunately accustomed to mistreatment without apology.
In some ways, this adds insight to the journey otherwise not gained. It revealed to me how some people are so immersed in ideology and systemic oppression that they lose their humanity while seeing the incarcerated as inhuman. Perhaps, many have lost their own resilience. Perhaps, they have given up on humanity. Whatever the case, we must remain resilient in order to recover what was taken from us. Let us all use our circumstances to our advantage. Unfair treatment is not an excuse to give up. I hope these words, sharing a part of my story, will help someone recover from their injustice, and exercise a level of resilience commensurate to their condition.
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Ishaq Adekunle is a Writer and photographer who lives in the outskirt of Ibadan, Nigeria.
He is trying to learn about the state of well being and reasoning among the African children and to lend a louder voice.
To this effect, he has learnt to tell their stories in his poetries and photographs which some has appeared on EyeEm photography NYC, New Creatives Horizon, GetlitNaija, and elsewhere. You can contact Ishaq Adekunle on +2348137396919 or reach him on Twitter.
ABOUT THIS PHOTOGRAPH
Title : “Someday, we’ll be heard!”
Date : 19th June, 2020 – 2nd August, 2020
In Pictures : Usman Fareed, Yusuf Mustapha, Salma & Khadija Obadun.
“These visual arts are themed with anger, misery, woe, melancholia, heavy weight of sad times, hope, neglect and surrealism. The untold story of the everyday norm of the typical African children. These, the African Child story, partly embedded in a collection of artworks.”