Deadly means Dead
Amnesty International researchers spoke to *Jean*, a life term inmate at Tsiafafy Prison. He described the conditions inside the chambers.
“Hundreds of us are together. We sleep only one to two hours per night. It is really bad. In November and December it is deadly. There’s no air.”
We aren’t talking euphemistically. “Deadly” means “dead.” Corpses wrapped in woven mats, carried out of chambers early mornings during the hot season at Antalaha prison. This was noted by our contractor, who worked last year renovating the “hospice” block for those who were dying from complications of malnutrition. His observations were confirmed by one of the prison officials.
“If a prisoner arrives during the hot season, and doesn’t have familial nutritional support, he will die in two months from either starvation, asphyxia, or a combination of the two.”
Imagine the situation in the famine-stricken southern Madagascar with no rain for years. I can’t imagine having the psychological strength to even peek inside these chambers. Hanitra can’t either. Maybe with your support, we will someday.
We speak of the basic needs of human beings as
· Food (and Water)
· Clothing
· Shelter
We forget because it is assumed:
· Air
Antalaha prison is built for 400 - 600 prisoners with a capacity of about 65 - 100 prisoners per chamber. In reality, 1900 prisoners are housed there now, about 315 prisoners per chamber. Imagine the amount of CO2 produced inside these container-like lock-down boxes with only tiny barred windows to allow oxygen in. It is no wonder that prisoners feel as if they are being buried alive during the night.
Which is why we are introducing turbine or whirlybird roof ventilators into our Antalaha prison renovation pilot program.
I have had a couple of you ask what our turbine roof ventilators are used for.
Do you remember pinwheels we used to make as kids? The shape of each fan was such that when we’d blow on it sideways, the pinwheel would twirl round and round. If there was a breeze, it would twirl it on its own.
Our Whirly Bird works on the same principle.
It is a wind-powered ventilation system which works very well in hot climates to cool down suffocatingly hot spaces. The fins are designed to catch the wind as it passes, causing the whirlybird to spin, sucking out hot air from inside the chambers. The resulting vacuum draws cool fresh air in from the outside through the small, barred windows and thus the room is aerated and the temperature drops, giving relief to the prisoners. Here are a couple of videos showing how they spin on top of the roof with the faintest amount of breeze, and also how the whirly bird looks from the point of view of the prisoners, looking up.
Here are some photos of how they are installed, both on tin roofs and on cement roofs. We put a couple whirlybirds in the women’s quarters and the women are ecstatic. It is truly an exciting innovation. At first, the prison officials were sceptical, worried about security issues, popping holes into the roof. We figured out a system of barring the ventilators from the inside. Now they are thrilled. NONE us us anticipated what a difference it would make. The cooling down effect is remarkable. In fact the other day when I visited, prisoners were escaping the outside heat and seeking relief inside the renovated chambers 1 and 2, (chambers 3-6 are still pending). It is hard to describe to you he impact of these darling little whirlybirds unless you would experience the difference yourselves. All using wind power. Considering that Antalaha gets electricity about 3 hours/day, this is incredible.
The Prison Administrative Director called in the national press the day we left, showcasing the two new kitchens, whirlybird turbines on the women quarters, new tin roof and turbines on the two of the men’s quarters and the new water pumping system. He called the prisoners together and gave a speech, thanked our team, and asked the prisoners from chambers 1 and 2 how they liked the renovations. They spontaneously gave us a standing ovation. Such a contrast to the cat calling and antagonistic looks we used to get when we first arrived.
However, Hanitra heard murmerings in the background,
“Why not us? Why aren’t our chambers renovated too?”
We were asking ourselves the same question. Are we creating a hierarchy of “haves” and “have nots?” We had promised to continue work on chambers 3,4,5,6 next year, if funds permit. But it didn’t seem fair and we left feeling our work is incomplete.
I asked the director if we could look inside the other chambers. They were dismal and so stuffy that one wanted to get out of there and escape to the stabbing heat outside. Hard to imagine being locked inside at night.
Hanitra, Maoly and I looked at each other.
“We have to do something NOW. Is there any way we can renovate the other chambers in a month or two, after the farmland project is finished?”
Maoly agreed to stay here longer and finish up the chambers if we could find the funds.
I wrote to a few people and came up with an extra $10,000 from generous donors. In order to put another angled layer of cement on the cracked and leaking roofs, smooth over the decaying cement on the inside ceiling, install about 16 whirlybird ventilators and paint the inside of chambers 3,4,5,6 this year - we need an additional $10,000 as soon as possible. If any of you have an interest to help us finish this project, please donate to the RCA. Kindly write me so I can follow up and make sure your donation goes for for this specific purpose. Thank you.
