The Sunday Mail
For Harineki Jacob, Christmas will pass like any other day of the last 19 years.
He woke up this morning sandwiched by four walls and a steel door.
He is going through routine prison life, even as millions around the globe celebrate the birth of Christ with inebriated gusto.
But it was not always like this for the 43-year-old whose death sentence was graciously commuted to life imprisonment.
Jacob grew up in Marondera’s kwaMeki area, and Christmas was a grand celebration for him, one on which he ate and drank heartily with friends and family.
Yet, an impulsive inclination to vice thrust him into the vault of justice where he has spent the greater part of the past two decades awaiting his darkest hour.
He went to prison in the prime of his youth, still wet behind the ears on life’s sobering matters.
He appeared pensive when The Sunday Mail called on him last Thursday, his countenance reflecting a gaping hole in his innermost bosom where merriment once teemed but now lacks.
He reminisces, “Christmas used to be magical, I tell you! We would have family meals prepared by my mother and dance to music at the local shops.”
Jacob’s father died when the then youngster was in Grade Seven.
He subsequently dropped out of school as his mother could not afford his tuition.
Years went by in a blur, with Jacob earning his keep as a farm labourer.
Slowly; inadvertently, he was evolving into a father figure and took care of his siblings, even bringing them the “magical” Christmas spirit each year.
The traditional rice-and-chicken dish remained a delicacy, with the family cherishing the warm spirit that comes with the occasion.
Jacob’s life took an abrupt turn when he was convicted of murder in 1997 for killing his employer following a dispute over his outstanding wages.
A self-proclaimed hard-worker, he had gone for months without pay, and devised a plan to “fix” his boss.
The plan was to burn the farmhouse.
“One evening, after my boss had left the farm for his daily errands around Marondera, I torched his house,” Jacob recounts.
“This was my way of paying him back for using me.”
Little did Jacob know that his boss had long returned and was in the house when he lit the fire.
His employer died in that inferno.
The proverbial “long arm of the law” caught up with him, hurling him into the slammer.
There was no way out for Jacob: He was sentenced to death.
“Gone were the days when we would sit around a table as a family and enjoy a Christmas meal. I was in this alone,” says Jacob.
He says during the initial days of his incarceration, his family, especially his wife, would visit whenever they could afford to.
The visits would evoke nostalgia which would at least help ease the pain of incarceration.
This, he says, would give him hope for a better tomorrow, despite the knowledge that he was destined for the gallows.
It brought resolve that things would be fine one day and gave him the strength to petition the President to have his sentence commuted.
In 2000, he received the best new lease of his prison life.
President Mugabe granted him his wish, and his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment.
No sooner had he received the good news than he received heart-wrenching news that nearly broke his resolve.
Then, he was domiciled at Chikurubi Maximum Security Prison when his wife and child came to visit.
He cherished such little moments.
However, on their way back home after the visit, they were involved in a horrific car accident and died on the spot.
“It was a terrible experience one that left me broken,” says Jacob, his eyes fixed on the prison walls behind us. It however gave me strength to seek God. From then, I have never turned back and am now a devout Christian. Today, I lead a small congregation here at Harare Central Prison. God has been very kind to me. He has shown me the light.”
He says though prison authorities host Christmas festivities for inmates, the parties were not the same as yesterday’s.
On a good Christmas, a beast is slaughtered for the prisoners, and Jacob serenades himself with the hearty laughter of friends he has made in prison.
“It’s not the same as being home, but given our situation, we have to be content with what we have. My family no longer visits. I don’t even remember when I last received a visitor.
“I am sure that this Christmas I, unlike others, won’t spend some time with family.”
Due to his long sentence, he has also cultivated good relations with prison officers owing to his good behaviour.
He is also popular with fellow inmates who have christened him “Faster” — owing to his acting skills.
On both shoulders of his tattered garb are two v-shaped badges sewn along the seam, in recognition of his “rank”. The badges are a sign that he has been promoted to the “highest rank” a prisoner can attain.
It affords him the privileges such as assisting prison officers in their duties as well as mentoring younger inmates.
He wears the badges with pride, and plans to “spend this Christmas in prayer”. I pray to God that I benefit from the Presidential amnesty”, he says.
