Mathilde Moland tells her story: Worship in the Central Prison of Kisangani
The service is held in a long shed in the open space between the prison walls. The tin roof is pierced by bullets and marked by the years. The sides are open and the cement floor has big cracks and loose pieces everywhere.
We are 16 Norwegians: 10 journalists, 2 doctors, 1 person from the foreign Ministry, the preacher Rune Edvardsen and his photographer, and a mother.
We are sitting in a half circle around a large table. I’m sitting almost at the end of the table. On my left I have a reporter and on my right the representative from the Foreign Ministry. It’s forbidden to take pictures. The reporters are writing discretely.
The prisoners are lining up. There must be more than one hundred of them. Two of them are white. From where I sit I can see Joshua. I have to turn my head to see Tjostolv. “Tjostolv! I wish you could find something nicer to wear today; it’s Sunday and worship” I catch myself thinking. Joshua is better dressed even with a rope as a belt.
The bishop of Kisangani is leading the service. He is wearing a dark suit and a red bishop’s shirt. His speech is translated into English. The interpreter has forgotten to turn off his mobile phone. It rings several times, and he answers it. I get distracted and I loose my thread in the speech. In the end the bishop asks if anyone wants to be prayed for. All the Africans and 2 white prisoners are raising their hands.
After the prayers the bishop informs everyone about the food delivery to the prison. There is rice, beans, corn flour, cooking oil etc. He also informs everyone that there are 3 doctors here who are going to examine as many prisoners as possible. Everyone cheers.
Rune Edvardsen is next. He greets all the prisoners and starts singing a song in Swahili. Yesu ni mwanzo wa uzima milele – Jesus is the start of eternal life. There is an instant reaction. The prisoners are singing as loud as they can, some are dancing and clapping. Tjostolv is touched. After a while tears are running down more white cheeks. The representative from the foreign ministry nods gratefully when I hand her a paper towel.
Rune speaks about how life can be difficult on earth, but for those who give their lives to Jesus there is a heaven waiting. Whatever wrong has been done, there is forgiveness.
I can’t help but to look for Tjostolv. Last I saw him he was sitting on the floor with his Congolese friend. Everyone else is standing. Now I can’t see him. I know he has problems with his stomach and assumes that is the reason for his disappearance.
When the service is over, Rune informs about the doctors who will examine prisoners who wants it. I stand up. In that moment Tjostolv walks by, holding an old, tiny, wrinkly man. “He is 72 years old, and one of the oldest prisoners there. He is going to be the first one of the prisoners to be examined” says Tjostolv and walks over to the doctors.
-Inmate to Inmate.
Mathilde Moland November 15th
