Silsilah started to go to the City Jail of Zamboanga more than thirty years ago and we continue to do our mission by inviting other Silsilah members in different cities to give attention to this specific mission. We have great testimonies of people deprived of liberty who have shared to us how they have been transformed and how, thanks to the Silsilah program, their time in jail has been reduced. We started to be guided by the spirit of Silsilah to do all with dialogue and love to achieve harmony, solidarity, and peace.
In this Oasis News, we present a touching story of the new Silsilah Coordinator for our mission in the City Jail of Zamboanga. He and the president of Silsilah have been invited with some selected members of other institutions to help some people deprived of liberty in the process to be free. The police of the city jail facilitates the process of these people’s liberty following some criteria, and we in Silsilah are willing to continue our mission in the city jail in their formation and in the process to help the people deprived of liberty lessen their time of stay in the city jail.
REFLECTION
As of this writing, I still cannot help myself to move on with the experience I had as an observer, representing Silsilah Dialogue Movement, in the deliberation of the CPI and GCTA of six inmates or persons deprived of liberty (PDLs) in Zamboanga City Jail. I will forever be grateful to Silsilah, through Ma’am Minda Saño, for this awakening experience where I can draw inspiration for love, service, and harmony.
That day, I wore a plain yellow collared shirt which I rushed to get from my cabinet. It was the top-most available that I could get. I thought it would be a safe color since I know prisoners usually wore orange. Plus I thought of wearing yellow since it symbolizes peace and hope.
As of this writing, I still cannot help myself to move on with the experience I had as an observer, representing Silsilah Dialogue Movement, in the deliberation of the CPI and GCTA of six inmates or persons deprived of liberty (PDLs) in Zamboanga City Jail. I will forever be grateful to Silsilah, through Ma’am Minda Saño, for this awakening experience where I can draw inspiration for love, service, and harmony.
That day, I wore a plain yellow collared shirt which I rushed to get from my cabinet. It was the top-most available that I could get. I thought it would be a safe color since I know prisoners usually wore orange. Plus I thought of wearing yellow since it symbolizes peace and hope.
When we arrived and entered into the BJMP Male Dormitory facility, i initially thought of going out or go back home to change my shirt, because to my surprise, all inmates wore yellow. But I had to keep myself relaxed and proper. So I put on a smile and greeted every person we met. To comfort myself, I just thought that I am in solidarity with the inmates. Maybe there was a purpose of my going there in the same color as their uniform.
As I sat there and was facing these “criminals” so many things came into my mind, but what I have really been thinking was, “What do these inmates think of us, of me?” I could not find answers to this as I have not encountered them yet personally and have not spoken to them. That time, aside from being uncomfortable, I had mixed feelings. Nervous. Fear. Shame.
The emcee began greeting us to open the deliberation. He acknowledged us individually, and finally the inmates whom he called “beloved PDLs”. I was deeply touched. Yes, indeed, they are beloved. They deserve to be called beloved. They are human persons who are to be loved. Despite the circumstances and the situation they are in, they are still worth loving and worthy to be cared for. After all, they are also God’s beloved children—our brothers. Imperfect. And just like me who is imperfect, they have the need for God’s mercy and our compassion. Despite all our imperfections, we are loved. We are all beloved.
As the deliberation went on, I was really affected and disturbed to know that one inmate, whose sentence is for 8 years, is still deprived of the liberty and has been in jail for too long now. Accordingly, the case runs so slow, that is why he stays in the jail much longer than the number of years of his sentence. At the end of the deliberation, the man could not do anything else but to weep. It was a heart-breaking moment for me. I could hardly raise my eyes to see the person, the beloved PDL who still feels that even today, after serving for more than double of his supposed years in prison, is still deprived of liberty. He was getting older, and I wonder if he gets the chance to be free, what opportunities can he get to survive outside the walls of the jail. I don’t know. I felt that he was deprived, not only of liberty, but of so much more in life.
Other similar cases were presented to us. They are still deprived of the liberty beyond the number of years they are sentenced to, as the cases are still ongoing or taking too slow. And these are just some of the many many PDLs who are suffering the same across the country. That is a painful reality they face each day, but holding on to the hope that one day, they will be sent out back into the society where they are not even sure if they will be welcomed and will have opportunities of work or education once more, and unsure of the second chance that the society might not give them because of their story.
As we are leaving the jail premises, my feelings of fear were overcome with thoughts of compassion, of love, of thoughts of doing more for these least of God’s beloved. Now I understand better why Jesus made a special mention of visiting those in prison as doing it to Him, which is an act of mercy.
They may have committed crimes. They may have imperfections. But they are not just criminals. They are human persons, created in the image and likeness of a good God. And deep within, there is something good in their very person, and they deserve love, mercy, compassion, and second chances.
In this season of Lent, it is my prayer that we may be set free from our being in prison. Often we imprison ourselves to keep out those who need us. We imprison ourselves to pride and selfishness. And we realize that we are just the ones suffering in the prison of our own making. May we be free to be able to love God’s beloved—the least in our society today. GILJOHN G. ROJAS