Behind Bars.

Matthew 25: 34-36 says, “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you are blessed by my Father. Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation, and here’s why: I was hungry and you fed me; I was thirsty and you gave me a drink; I was homeless and you gave me a room; I was shivering and you gave me clothes; I was sick and you stopped to visit; I was in prison and you came to me.”

Pleasing Sir God has been a lifelong goal for me. I strive to be in His good books as long and as often as I can. It is a continuous struggle; as humans, the things we want to do, we don’t, and the things we don’t want to do, we end up doing (Romans 7:14-16). I like how verse 16 reads: “If I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.” How often do we feel we cannot even trust ourselves as we journey through life? If that’s you, then join me in the WhatsApp group that subscribes to divine intervention to make it through.

Folks, we can only make progress one day at a time—one instance or situation at a time. And I think even Sir God is happy with that. This relationship with Him is a work in progress, and so is it with others. Where am I going with this Bible lesson?

I brought Scripture to life by doing something that is written in the Good Book. I went to visit my buddy in prison. It was my first time visiting someone in prison alone, well accompanied by my buddy, Davie. My last vague memory of doing so was as a kijana with my mother and our church group, back in the day.

My pal was incarcerated four years ago after a business deal went south—or, more accurately, turned sour and sank. He was doing what he could to advance his life and uplift his family, as we all do. The details of the case are not necessary here; however, last year, I began to feel that I should check on him. We lived in the same hood, played golf together, and shared many laughs over the years. Even our kids are age mates. We didn’t meet much, but when we did, we would catch up on family and, of course, our deeply average golf. He was, and still is, a good man. We lived a similar life, he and I, until the courts came calling. I figured that if I were in his shoes (or wearing those striped prison pyjamas), I would want to be visited by a friend or two.

I decided that 2025 would not end before I visited him. So, I bullied my pal, Davie, into taking me, since he had been there before. We didn’t beat the 2025 deadline, but we managed to visit him in January this year. We met at the prison gate and drove right through. We weren’t asked who we were or where we were going. Maybe my Subaru made us look like cops, so we drove right through, hehe. Davie then called a warden, who met us and took us to where our buddy was.

It was weird driving through those gates. Men are confined there and put to work daily without pay. I wondered what their thoughts were. Do they worry about their loved ones? What regrets do they carry? How do they accept their reality, especially those with long jail terms? Do they plan for life after prison?

Such were the questions on my mind as we followed the warden to meet our pal. I was a bit anxious about meeting him because of all the violence I had watched on Prison Break. I imagined that the toll of prison would be written on his body. We were led to a small, old room that reeked of surgical spirit. I thought that maybe our buddy was nursing some wounds, and that this was the prison hospital ward. Anyway, we were already there, so I braced for it.

When the warden walked us in, our buddy rose from a desk and came to greet us with a huge smile and in high spirits. I hugged him, and I can now admit the relief I felt when I saw him in good health. In fact, apart from his prison clothes, he was the same guy we have always known. His hearty laughter was still infectious. This confirmed to me that prison may have affected him in one way or another, but he still is the same guy, mostly. It reminded me of the quote: “Money does not change who we are; it just reveals who we are at the core.” If that’s the case, then prison has revealed my buddy is still a positive guy, who is making lemonade from a seemingly huge, endless lemon of a jail sentence.

As we sat with him to catch up, he gave us the ‘4 11’ on life in jela and what his journey had been like. Regrets, but also deep learnings and realisations, punctuated his story. What stood out for me was that prison has made him realise we hold onto many things which appear valuable, but really aren’t. He has been forced to shed many concerns that burdened him and is now clear about the few stones that should be placed in the jar of life before we fill it up with the sand of unimportant stuff. Family and health are what keep him going.

We go through life unaware that we are chasing after the wind of opportunities and things. While working towards self-sustenance and financial security is crucial, we often lose the plot and fall into the trap of trying to keep up with the Joneses. Contentment then goes out the window, and we become the chief rat in the rat race.

We wrapped up when the warden returned, informing us that our time was up. I guess we could not take all the time we wanted lest we were planning a prison break, hehe. On our way out, I wondered if I was in my own prison of unmet needs—one that I have been spending all my energy trying to escape. Are we having sleepless nights worrying about all the stuff we want, and how we can keep it from leaving us? My buddy has had to go to prison to realise that freedom first lies in the mind, then is followed by reality. It was one of the best afternoons I have spent with him. He poured into us, and I believe we brightened his day, too.

It’s time we looked inward to confirm whether we are serving jail sentences of our own. Many of us are free yet imprisoned. If contentment and peace of mind are elusive, then you are probably in jela. One way out is to discover what you are here for and commit to that. At the end of it all, what matters most is accomplishing what we were put on this earth to do. Finding and living a meaningful life while serving others is my ticket out of jail. I hope to keep cultivating that to ensure I’m not behind bars mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. What’s your ticket out of jail, folks? May we aim to hear those famous words from Sir God when all is said and done: “Well done, good and faithful servant; enter into my rest.”