The price of being a free man


Image: Taken during the Bienal de La Habana

The world in which we live cannot be viewed as a drop of water in a glass.  Much less can it be seen in black and white.  If we intend to be just with our fellow human beings, it is necessary to acknowledge all aspects of life.  It is then that something will tell us that sincerity begins with oneself; otherwise, justice will never be attained.

Today’s world has been inevitably globalized. in my opinion, for the benefit of humanity.  Before the island’s authorities made me a prisoner of conscience, I asked myself again and again why some political prisoners can denounce the reality of Cuban prisons and others cannot?

Now that I am in their position, I have found the key: In these six years and four months of captivity many of us have systematically denounced the violations of human rights, and as far as I know, two of my brothers have been able to write down their memories in powerful books.

Obviously, we are not going to all have the same intellectual capacity.  If we are going to be objective and practical we must analyze the importance of writing about the cruelty found in the penitentiaries in Cuba, not be primarily self-indulgent, and see the situation from the most realistic point of view possible.

I believe that in order to criticize one must earn the right.  Not all prisons are the same, and for that reason I can’t imagine the international community thinking that Cuban prisons are a paradise. Only we, the political prisoners, especially those of the cause of the 75, know what it’s like to live, if you can call it living, in solitary and enclosed cells without being exposed to the sun for 18 months, with visits allowed only every three months, and matrimonial encounters every five. In other words, we have sex with our wives twice a year.

Bags weighing 30 pounds. No telephone. Two religious meetings in about two years. Enduring the crazed screams of those condemned to death.  Since they won’t separate us from the common prisoners, we have learned to live in the jungle, together with the actual delinquents, rapists, child molesters, assassins, the worst of Cuban society.

I’m convinced that none of us will ever be the same again.  And it is not because of weakness.  Quite some time has passed and we have remained as hard as rocks.  But really, we now will never return to being ourselves.

Now I have my blog, which as I always say belongs to all.  If someone believes that Cuban prisons are heavenly, then please forgive me: they should cleanse their brains.  There are days when I have written about a common prisoner, with my ulcer acting up and my kidney barely letting me rise from my bed.  Nevertheless I continue forward.  Without knowing if I will ever emerge free from this tomb of living men.  My only hope is in knowing that I am a prisoner only because of my thoughts and my desire to be a free man.  Then it is worth it.

Pablo Pacheco, Canaleta Prison

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