It had to be a bad dream. Petrified, not from the premeditated assault on me, but from the sight of the guard. I was expecting the malnourished one, but this guard was a splitting image of the Disney Princess Fiona, only uglier. She was enormous, creepy and hideous. A pale-skinned ogre with a mouthful of missing teeth in uniform.

Even through the revolting sight of the never-once-shaven legs, the multi-coloured varicose veins spiralling up them were not inconspicuous. I wondered what she looked like down south. (more…)

I stole the Cameroonian’s sorry excuse for a Polish-English dictionary the day before my transfer. I mean, I could’ve pinched an apple or two, or a tube of toothpaste from the lesbian, but at that point, the dictionary seemed more like a life-saver than a bucket of nourishing apples. It was tattered beyond recognition, missing a bunch of alphabets, but it would go on to save my neck more often than once. (more…)

En route to my new home, I sat pondering which one of the prisoners I wanted to pummel to death first. The transport van was configured in such a way that each inmate sat knee to knee directly opposite the other.

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In the midst of battling with my numerous mental issues, I’d become stricken with the biblical curse of “the woman with the issue of blood”. In other words, my menstrual period wouldn’t stop. I had my period everyday up till the minute I left detention, and this would later go on for a whole year. Doctors, Gynecologists, Endocrinologists, Shrinks,Faith healers, Witch doctors, would later diagnose this affliction as stress-induced. My monthly period wouldn’t stop because I was stressed out of my damned mind. (more…)