Into the Abyss

By Chuma Goniwe

Into the abyss tells the story of a young man who grows to be tough and live by the laws and beliefs of his village; laws which are constructed to benefit the oppressors (the chief of the village, his family and his council). This young man, named Ilanga, comes to understand that such laws are meant to exist, although they have been corrupted and cause social strife in the village. The arrival of a man from the city named Shakes, introduces Ilanga to the world of truth. Ilanga has to choose whether to align himself with the norms and cultural beliefs of the village or liberate himself from the chains of oppression, because he knows, “no one rebels against the rural law and lives to tell”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chuma Goniwe
• Release date: Apr 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005144951

Book preview

Into the

Abyss

Chuma Goniwe

Copyright © 2021 Chuma Goniwe

First edition 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Published by Chuma Goniwe using Reach Publishers’ services,

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Edited by Bronwen Bickerton for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

Website: www.reachpublishers.org

E-mail: [e-mail]

Chuma Goniwe

[e-mail]

Table of Contents

1. Into the Dark Hole

2. Life of Fallacy

3. A Manual Life

4. The First Book

of Nomvula

5. His Arrival

6. Crucifixion of

the Innocent

7. The Taste of the

Bitter Side

8. Fumes of Sins

9. The Beauty of Lucifer

10. Into a Life of Sin I was Introduced and Fell

in Love With it

11. The Devil Wear’s a Suit

12. The Greatest Pretender

13. An Angel with

Dark Cravings

14. Dinning with the Demons

15. The Rise and Fall of the Village Witch Dynasty

16. A Wolf Within

Flock of Sheep

17. A Rose that Never Lived to be Appreciated

18. Even with Her Beauty, Death didn’t

Show Mercy

19. I Heard a Fatal Sound and He was Gone

20. They also Breathe

Like us

21. A Mother’s Daughter

22. Legends are not Mourned, they

are Celebrated

23. Traitors Lack Morals

24. I Once Walked

With the Wolves

25. If there’s a Beginning, Surely there’s an Ending

Thembu Land news: the trusted news paper

Chapter 1

Into the Dark Hole

The life inside prison is sickening, with every minute spent trying to stay strong and not to be bullied or raped, and even trying to stay alive. However, with all those thoughts in my mind, I just wish some prisoner would stab me to death and give me a quick painless death, but those animals choose to keep me alive to torment my soul. They say life in the prison is like a visible hell. Well, I choose to differ from those opinions for I thought I was going to hell but I ended up on a hall with cages with wicked people. A hall masked to seem as if life is hard inside whereas the prisoners are treated as hotel guests by the wardens. The image I saw inside the prison walls differed from that of an outside person. While I was a child, we thought of prison life as hard, as a slave life, now I wish I was a slave for I long to die, but the government system doesn’t have a death penalty. Looking at those prisoners acting as if they are invisible amongst the weak prisoners disgusts me with unbearable thoughts. Those prisoners will separate themselves according to their affiliative gangster groups, with each group thriving to have overall control of the prison. The wardens act as if it is the norm for those prisoners to act in such a way. Those damn wardens fail to do their jobs by keeping social order within the prison walls; instead, they are lazy to do their jobs by letting the prisoners create their own social order. Those bastards of wardens are the reason there are so many sexual assaults and murders within the prison walls. Their laziness creates havoc within those prison walls. But I don’t care, the only thing I wish is to die but they keep me in these isolated cells underneath the prison floor. They keep me underground. They think I pose a danger towards myself for I have tried to commit suicide numerous times. Now, I’ve been placed here in the isolation wishing to die without success.

In the isolating prison cells I am alone in my cage but not alone in the section. There are those in the section who wish to stay for a long time until they complete their time to be served. Those people are the ones who are victims of those gang affiliations in the prison and they fear the prison life. I assume they were wrongfully accused of their crimes and I assume that because I always hear their prayers praying for forgiveness for those who wrongfully accused them. It seems as if their god was overpowered by the gods of the gangs, for the prison gangs always shout out the Word of God when they are about to commit an evil deed, ‘Damn God, I’m going to kill that person’, and they do live upon their word by killing that particular person. When it comes to God I was told there is only one living God, when in prison I ask myself why would God let the wicked victimise the good if he was the God of the good, but again I feel disgust because while I was not yet in prison I found out the churches in which we praise our God are filled with hypocrites who are politically affiliated with the intentions of pushing their agendas towards the weak, and the weak fall for it. I was once their victim but was freed, so I thought. It is only now I realise that freedom comes through death.

It’s been weeks since I’ve been in prison and it’s been weeks with failed suicide attempts. My relatives have chosen to distance themselves from me for I have turned to be the devil worshiper for the crime I committed. ‘The crime I committed’, I laugh my lungs out with this statement. What crimes have I committed? Saving a person’s life from an act of the violent mob and it’s a crime? Damn, the system which we are led to live upon by those hypocrites saying they are creating social order is a bitch. With the family distancing itself from me, it doesn’t kill me as I thought, it doesn’t really bother me. How I wish they could separate themselves away from me for eternity. I just picture their visit in prison and their questions as to why I have committed such a crime and I need Jesus. Hypocritical that and that’s what they are.

I don’t really know the date for I am always kept with a watchful eye in the underground cages for weeks with darkness made endurable by electric lights. I have parted ways with the sun and the moon since I have been kept here. I remember the day I arrived in Wellington Maximum Prison; I was very scared, with the stories of prison which circulated in my childhood. The prison was a bad place with wicked people with wicked intentions all the time, and that was included in the story of my childhood with the intention of keeping me away from contributing to wicked activities. While we were transported with other prisoners from the holding prison cells to the maximum prison in a prison bus, I saw that it was not me alone who was scared of what was about to occur in the maximum prison. Other scared prisoners showed the obvious weakness of being scared of the unknown by crying. Yes, grown men were crying in the prison bus. Maybe the catalyst which enhanced their weakness was the other prisoners within the prison bus who were busy intimidating those weak prisoners. Some of those prisoners were returning prisoners and some were gang-affiliated prisoners outside the prison walls. Those fools were happy to be inside the prison bus. To them they were returning to their original homes. Now can you see the attitude which those prisoners had and which was caused by those lazy wardens? Those fools were happy to return to prison over living a civil life outside the prison because they were more powerful inside the prison walls than outside the prison walls. Our justice system is full of shit, with many rights given to those criminals and the wardens being under the control of those criminals. They should have made the prison a place of no return for those wicked criminals; instead, they made it a five star hotel for those wicked imbeciles.

While we were inside the prison bus, we could see the walls of the prison in the distance and the walls alone brought fear amongst us. Inside the yard we could only see one to five people wearing orange uniforms and we knew the orange uniforms were for prisoners. Now I was going to wear the bloody uniform for a long time, those thoughts circulated in my mind and drove me to the thoughts of death that also dwelled in my mind. As we approached the prison yard, we saw a high fence and it was not only one fence surrounding the prison, there were numerous fences surrounding the prison with razor wires intact on top of each fencing wire. Those bastards made sure no one would be able to successfully escape the prison. While we entered the big gate with the prison bus, I could hear my heart beating at high speed with fear. We are here, I thought to myself. The returning prisoners were the first to exit the prison bus after the exit instruction with a smile from the wardens. We were made to make a line so as to be counted and afterwards to march into the reception or the arrival section as they called it to be registered. While we entered the prison walls, I looked at my back to see my city from a distance for the last time and got a glimpse of a prisoner who was behind me with a face filled with fear. I wished I could tell him I too was in fear, but I told myself to be strong for I could not fear the unknown. We came to the arrival section and we were told to strip our clothes and to be fully naked. The other prisoners had scary tattoos on their bodies which was proof that they were not the first timers in prison. There were a few of us without tattoos and to them it was obvious that we were the first timers. The returning prisoners acted obvious amongst us; they were not new to this prison and the wardens showed excitement that they returned to their homes. Those wardens even bet amongst themselves which particular prisoner would return to prison, thus creating such a commotion in the arrival section.

The returning prisoners were treated as kings while we were treated as servants. Photographs and fingerprints were taken and suddenly we were told to isolate ourselves from other prisoners and I came to understand that we were separated from the old returning and gang-affiliated prisoners. The first timers were placed in an empty hall while naked. On the ceiling of this hall there were water pipes with shower heads, about six of them. We were all wondering why we were isolated from the other prisoners and while we were wondering we could hear sounds of laughter outside the hall. Other prisoners inside the hall were praying and while watching those praying prisoners, there was one particular prisoner who caught my attention. This prisoner spoke as if he knew what was about to happen like he had a prison manual with him. His knowledge caused much fear in the other prisoners, causing other prisoners to pray. It seems as if the prisoner was right in the assumption of what was about to happen. The prisoner said we were about to be brutally welcomed to prison because we were the first timers. I thought he was joking until I felt the drop of water on my head towards my face. When I looked up, I saw showers of water showering my body and it was very hot. We ran around the hall trying to find a cooler place and while we ran, we shouted with cries of help and mercy. Those wardens watched us running around the hall through the glass door while they bet on the last man standing. The only cooler places inside the burning hall were the four corners of the hall but there were many of us and for all it was ‘each man for himself’. We cried, pleading for help and mercy, they kept laughing at us. And then it stopped. Everyone sat against the wall naked, folding their bodies to cover their private parts in fear. It was not over; the prison wardens stormed the hall shouting slurs while carrying plastic pipes. We were beaten like animals until we passed out.

We were again awakened by cold water showering our bodies with agony. We had no choice but to wake up and clean ourselves. When we were finished showering ourselves, they looked at us and welcomed us to the prison with laughter in their faces and told us to stay alive. That is when I saw that those wardens were no different from those wicked prisoners, they all shared one thing in common and that is wickedness. By showing a rebellious side towards those wardens with regards to their actions, you would be inviting more brutality unto yourself. The best way was to act passive towards their actions. We were given our uniform to wear and certain rules were also given to us which I didn’t pay much attention to for I was still easing my pain from the beating. The wardens made sure that we kept our mouths shut with regards to the abuse we endured from them by threatening us with more brutality if we ever spoke of such a welcoming. We swore to never speak to anyone; we feared being brutally abused by the ones we looked upon for protection.

As we marched through the passages of the prison towards our prison cells, being escorted by one of the warders and handcuffed, the prisoner who seemed to understand the place said, Another brutality to encounter, and that was when I saw fear in his eyes and I came to understand that the brutality was not yet over. Now came the time to be brutalised by the prisoners who would see us as their prey. I came to believe the other prisoner’s understanding for what was about to happen, he never failed in his arguments, but again I had to be strong for myself as I had been strong in the shower hall in the arrival section. Big heavy iron gates were opened and their sound alone brought fear. We marched into our prison cells with the warden escorting us. We passed three gates before we entered the final one which was an entrance to the prisoners and their prison cells. As we walked through a huge passage with prison cells from both sides and the iron net beneath our heads, sounds were made on our arrival by the prisoners shouting gang-related slurs with others saying ‘here comes the new meat’. On top of us through the passage there was an iron net, and there was another floor of prison cells on top of us with an iron net floor, the second prison floor. On the second floor they were also making a noise on our arrival, with each prison cell pleading with the warden to give us to their prison cell. You had to walk in the middle of the passage to be free from the grabbing hands of the incarcerated prisoners. Each and every prisoner wanted us. As I looked at my fellow new intakes, they were very scared of what they were seeing and they knew life was going to be hell. I kept telling myself not to fear what I didn’t know and I made myself live by the words of Buddha, and those words are ‘life is a suffering’. The prisoners were shouting ‘welcome to hell’ while I knew that I was already living in hell before prison, but they would not understand and you will also not understand.

As we walked towards our prison cells, we came to be few as other fellow prisoners were taken to other prison cells and I was the last one to be placed. The warden gave the signal to the other warden who was controlling the prison gates via remote to open the last prison cell which I was about to be placed into. The gates opened and handcuffs were taken off me. As I took a breath to enter the prison cell, I was disturbed by the warden when he pushed me inside the prison cell and said to those who were inside ‘here is another meat, cook it well’. That bastard of the warden just gave me to be eaten alive by lions. Curse upon that bastard of a warden for he deserves death. When I entered the prison cell, I heard the gates closing with a sharp sound that felt as if it was cutting my heart and I was looking down. My ears were closed from the sound of the gates, I could not hear anything. I was afraid to look up and see what was looking at me. After a few minutes, while I was looking down, I felt a hard fist hitting me and I almost fell down but managed my step. I looked up and saw a crowd of people looking at me with others busy with their activity inside the prison cell. Inside the prison cell, there were many prisoners. Later I counted thirty prisoners and that included me. Bunk beds occupied the prison cell in rows and columns. While I was busy scanning my surroundings, the gentlemen in front of me tried to give me another hook, but I manage to dodge it and I think that made him furious. The other crowd inside the cell laughed at that incident telling him he was getting old. I came to realise that my hearing was back and the gentleman in front of me was a soldier (as they are called in the prison) of the gang that ruled the prison cell. I was told later that before hitting me he was asking about my affiliation regarding what family I belonged too. When he was asking, he was not using standard language, he was talking in a language which was alien to me. I later came to understand it was a language used by the gangs inside the prison to hide their secret plans from the wardens.

I also came to understand that this gentleman gave me a fist because I didn’t respond to his question and that made him enraged. I could not answer the gentleman’s question, I didn’t understand his tongue and another thing was that he had an intimidating face. The gentleman’s face was filled with tattoos. He was a black man and very dark, but the tattoos were very visible to the naked eye. He attempted to hit me again but again I dodged his fist and he was the one who fell to the floor and laughter filled the prison cell. I wish I could tell those who were laughing to stop laughing because the laughter drove this gentleman insane. He stood up and said, Oh, we have baby jack on the cell, you will wish you’d never ridiculed me in front of my crew. Seeing his eyes I knew I was up for a beating. It is then I wished I could have just let the gentleman beat me until he was tired, but I was still in pain from the brutality in the arrival section. I wished I could tell the gentleman to beat me when the scars of the previous beating had healed.

The gentleman stood up and summoned other soldiers to beat the living hell out of me. The other soldiers came out from the crowd inside the prison cell and they also had scary tattoos on their bodies and there were yet others with scary scars surrounding their bodies. I knew I had to be passive in their beating for me to get it over with. As they regrouped to make a brutal example out of me. I closed my eyes waiting to endure the beating, instead I heard a voice at the back commanding the soldiers to ease from their anger. They all heard the order and ceased beating me. As I looked beyond the soldiers in search of the voice of command, I saw a middle-aged man who they responded to as the ‘the general’. This general told his soldiers they must not beat me for he had plans for me. The outraged gentleman asked his general why halt the beating for I had made a fool of him in front of his crew. The general assured him that beating me for the fool I made of him was not worth it, but making money for his organisation was worth it. I was puzzled as to how I was to make money for their organisation and while they were speaking about plans concerning me, I was standing there with no say, just waiting for the final verdict about my future at the hands of the wicked. While they were speaking I heard the general saying ‘The chief’ loves his meat untampered and fresh, so let us keep him clean because with his face and body, surely we will win a jackpot with him. I was again puzzled as I didn’t know the prison had chiefs, then I came to understand that it was a name given to the ranks you had in the gang. The chief was the ruler of the other gang, and I also came to understand that I was about to be rented to the chief for sexual needs, apparently I had a sexy body and a beautiful face.

The general kept on touching me as he inspected my body for any flaws. He then concluded that I must be given immunity for I was to make them richer and the only time I was to be beaten was when I refused their orders. I didn’t have a say, but inside me I heard myself saying, if a person sexually fucks with me, there will be hell to pay. The only thing I could be passive in was the crew beatings. The general ordered the soldier to do the drill, and the gentleman looked at me and told me that it was my luckiest hour because I was to be the chief’s bitch. The soldiers disbanded and the gentleman summoned another person to give me the rules of the prison cells. A young man crippled with hardship in walking came to me. His face was covered with scars and you could see that he was in anguish. The pain was written in his face. I could tell that he was not gang-affiliated and that made him be a victim of the gangs. My name is Sizwe, he said with a sore voice. While he was introducing himself, one of the soldiers shouted at him to be quick for he needed his service to wash his clothes. When the crippled man heard the shouting, he jumped up with fear, startled by the unknown. He seemed as if he knew that every minute he must expect a beating.

I didn’t respond to his introduction, I wanted him to be fast in order not to be victimised by the other prisoners. He told me the rules of the house. He explained that the ruler of the house was indeed the general and the house was filled by his soldiers who abided by his command. When they commanded something, it was better that I abided in order for me to live partially freely. The house must be neat at all times, the man told me and he said that he was happy that a new inmate who was not affiliated with the gang had arrived; now they would share the cleaning duties. I asked him what other prisoners were doing in terms of cleaning. He looked at me with sad eyes and he asked me to look around the cell. It is me and you know who the puppets of this prison cell are, the other gentleman who was assisting me is in prison hospital fighting for his life because he went rebellious against the orders of the soldiers. The man assured me that if I abided by the orders from the soldiers, it would only entail bruises instead of broken bones and holes in my body. He showed me where to sleep and as I was looking at the place which he was showing me, I saw there was no bed just a mattress. I looked around and saw that those who were ruling the prison cells were taking two beds and were making them one with the intentions of creating double beds. Sizwe looked at me and told me not to argue with them. We are just servants according to them. Sizwe cautioned me that it was a requirement to stay clean with clean clothes, but the showers were a battle zone, with innocents being victimised and a score of grudges being settled.

I asked him, "If you say to be clean is a requirement, and the showers are a no go zone, how are we going to be clean? He answered me looking around being scared, trying to see if there was anyone listening. He told me that when it was breakfast time every prisoner showered early in the morning in order not to miss breakfast. And there are only two meals per day, so every meal counted. I still didn’t find a solution to the matter at hand while Sizwe was explaining, so I ended up asking him, Are we going to be clean?"

He looked at me and said with sad eyes, Sacrifice. He further explained the term sacrifice in that to be clean you had to sacrifice the breakfast meal and go to shower because every prisoner was in the dining hall, and that made the showers a free zone. You choose to be hungry in order to be clean, he replied by referring to the other option taken by his other friend, which came with anguish. Sizwe told me the other option was to disobey the order and to be brutally victimised in order to be placed in a prison hospital in order to shower freely and eat breakfast with straw pipes. While we were busy talking, the soldier who was shouting at Sizwe shouted again with commands that he must go and wash his clothes and those of the others. I didn’t have to ask Sizwe to accompany him, the eyes of the soldier who was giving instructions also spoke to me.

As I expected, prison life was a hard life to endure with fighting to survive every time. I was on the market, being sold for sexual favours without my consent. I swore with my life that whoever tried to do funny sexual things on me would pay with his life. I became the target of victimisation the moment I stepped inside those prison walls, and the moment I came face to face with the chief, I came to understand that my troubles had just begun. It was on the playgrounds during time out that I was standing in the corner of the grounds minding my problems when suddenly I felt a hand brushing my behind. Out of disgust I brushed the hand away only to find out that it was the chief with his crew, also accompanied by the general and his crew. Here is the merchandise, the general said, pointing at me.

What! I asked with confusion but another part of my mind understood the meaning of the general’s utterance.

Little fierce, the chief said looking at me with the eyes of lust.

Bring the merchandise at the agreed time and payment shall be processed, the chief said while admiring my attitude. The general agreed to the chief’s proposal. Those bastards made a deal which concerns me without concern for me. They left me standing there with confusion. It was not confusion alone that startled me, fear roamed my body for what was about to happen, which I didn’t know at that time.

Sizwe approached me and he said, To be the chief’s bitch is better than to be the victim of brutality. I didn’t know how to comment on Sizwe’s words. I didn’t know how to comment. It seemed to him that it was a natural thing for a business transaction that occurred to take place. To Sizwe it seemed as if I was a lucky person because I would now become the bitch of the chief and I would be treated like a princess. Sizwe was obviously insane to think of such a thing, but again it was what he was forced to believe manifested by the prison life. I told him that he needed help and I left him there trying to justify his argument.

To survive I had to trust no one and I had to protect myself every time. I created a sharp object using a hard plastic object which I found by the rusty pipes in the bathroom. I presumed that the sharp object was an object used by other prisoners in a battle with the others, or it was used as a murder object by other prisoners against the others. I just didn’t care about the origins of the object, I was just glad in finding it in order to use it as an object against those who were to hurt me. I had this object in the showers, at the dining hall during lunch or dinner, and even in my sleep.

I never thought my life could be harder than it was then, until I physically encountered the chief, and that was when the thoughts of suicide came to exist. It was night-time during the lockdown and I was busy attempting to sleep when I heard the sound of the gate opening. The warden called my name and I responded with confusion because it was late for visitors and I never had any visitors to begin with. The warden told me there was a routine check that needed to be made; I became suspicious when the general gave the warden a piece of paper and in the dark I could tell the warden was given money by the general. I knew at that moment that I was being rented to be taken into the chief’s cell. Fuck, they wouldn’t take me alive, I thought to myself. Those bastards saw my resilience and they were not taking no for an answer. Another two wardens came from nowhere in taking me by force. They overpowered me. I even cried loudly for those who could hear to hear my anguish, but the general ordered his soldiers to sing their lungs out. Their sounds diminished my cry. I was taken and dragged by those wardens into the prison cell of the chief. The chief shared his cell with only two inmates.

I was dragged into the chief’s prison cell and even the chief saw I would give him a hard time. The wardens ordered for the door of the chief’s prison cell to be opened and they tossed me inside the prison cell and told the chief it was up to him to control me. I stood there and when I tried to find my sharp object it was nowhere to be found. Damn, it was three to one. There was silence inside the prison cell. What are you waiting for; make him understand that he has no choice under my house, the chief ordered his fellow inmate, who overpowered me and placed me on the chief’s bed. I knew there was no way out, I just closed my eyes and waited for the worst. The last thing I remember in my ears were the words of the chief when he said he would make every hour paid for me worth it. I cannot divulge what transpired during those horrible hours, but that bastard defiled me. I hated myself for I was dirty. During the morning before the change of shift the same wardens came to take me back into my prison cell. I was just isolated from the living. I didn’t understand what was happening. My ears didn’t hear a thing which was said, I was deaf for hours and I remember when I entered my prison cell, the general and his crew gave me a standing ovation as if giving me a hero’s welcome. I just walked past them while they laughed at me. I got a glimpse of Sizwe scrubbing a floor. He was the only one who saw and felt my torment. I just lay on the floor on my stomach because my back was sore. I couldn’t go to eat because I wished to die of hunger.

While I was searching for death, death chose to forsake me. I tried going on a hunger strike, even having my stomach attached to my back. The prisoners in my prison cell even