(Specific details, including dates and names, have been omitted to protect the identity of the individual in this story whom we will refer to as ‘Morton’.)

He says he entered the penal system in perfectly good health. Now, six years into his eight-year sentence, ‘Morton’, who says he was raped and infected with the deadly HIV/AIDS virus while incarcerated, is seeking compassionate release from the country’s correctional service.

In a letter to the Sunday Observer, Morton shared the details of his bitter ordeal. According to the inmate, although he lives in the shadow of death everyday, the spectre is even more menacing, because if his fellow inmates find out about his status it would cause “worsened isolation, worse treatment and even endanger (his) life”.

His nightmare, he says, began within the walls of the tough General Penitentary penal facility on Tower Street in Kingston.

“I was sentenced in 2000 for manslaughter and obtaining goods on false pretences and I pleaded guilty on both charges,” he writes. “I was transported to the General Penitentary on Tower Street in Kingston where I was admitted in that correctional facility… I spent almost three weeks before the superintendent removed me and seven other inmates to various sections in the institution.”

With the relocation came the first signs of trouble.

“They took me to a section known as Building, and the inmates there protested, saying that no prisoner who was usually located at GDC can come on their section because all who live at GDC are either homosexual or mad man,” Morton reminisces.

He says he was taken to another section which, unbeknownst to him, was ‘a homosexual isolation section’ where he was placed with four other inmates.

“At that time, I did not know that was a known homosexual section. In fact, if I did know that…I would refuse to live there because I am not a homosexual,” the anguished prisoner writes.

That night, he says, the ordeal that is now his single abiding torment began. According to Morton, he was viciously sodomised by four of his cellmates, one of whom carried a death sentence in his loins.

“I was located in a cell with six other inmates. During the night I woke up and found a knife at my throat and four inmates standing over me and one had his foot on my back. They tied my hands together and cut off my clothing, one of the inmates threw a liquid substance on my ass then each one of them penetrated me in my anus. They then threatened to kill me if I talked, then cut me loose,” he recounts.

The shame and pain which accompanied the ordeal screamed far louder than his protests.

“I was so ashamed and scared. In the morning I reported the incident. They all denied and said it was an allegation because I did not want to stay on the section. They also got support from the orderly and inmates who shouted that “a lie di bwoy a tell” and the officers ordered me to go back to my cell,” the letter says.

Death, he says, was at that point more inviting than life.

“I…decided I was going to kill myself. I used the razor to cut my left hand and was knotting the sheet to end my life when an inmate saw me and called the officers who came and took me and beat me with their batons. Some of them kicked and boxed me but I did not care. I told them to kill me and end it because I was not going back on the block,” Morton says.

He was rescued. At least for one night. But the ordeal began again the very next morning.

“The superintendent ordered them to find a single cell on the remand section and put me…I spent one night there and in the morning the remandees attacked my cell and light fire on my mattress; the smoke from my cell alerted the officers and they came to my rescue,” Morton writes.

He was transferred again. This time to another rehabilitation centre in the Corporate Area.

“I was transferred and placed in an isolated area. I spent four years at that institution with the stigma of being a homosexual. I was not able to participate in a lot of rehabilitation programmes because of that stigma; the inmates scorned me and refused to deal with me,” the inmate says.

Life was one long threnody.

“At times I get fed up and tried to commit suicide several times. I drink insect spray and tried to burn myself. Officers and inmates also said I was only seeking attention and that was why I did those crazy stuff,” he says.

When the pendulum of life swung again, another transfer to another institution came crashing from the wings.

“I was transferred…where I was again placed on…another known homosexual section,” he says.

But in 2005, hostile inmates became the least of Morton’s worries. His enemy was inside his own body.

“I came into the correctional facility fit and healthy…but in 2005 I began feeling ill and at times I bled from my anus or throat or had a fever that took a long time to get better. In 2006, I went to the doctor where he ordered me to do a blood test,” he recalls.

After a few months the blow was delivered.

“I was called back by the doctor. He then counselled me and gave me the shocking news of my life that I was HIV positive and started me on anti-retroviral drugs…”.

“Presently, I have appointments regularly…and I receive a monthly supply of medication. My recent CD4 result showed that my blood count is 165 and the doctor told me that I am doing well,” he says.

“The problem I am facing is that the kitchen does not provide a proper diet and my medication requires a lot of food. I have to take my medication on time every day. Without eating a proper meal I am unable to function properly or have a normal life. Whenever I don’t eat properly or take my medication on time I experience nausea and dizziness and feel weak,” Morton tells the Sunday Observer.

Nowadays, he says, he lives in an area reserved for the insane and homosexuals.

“Oftentimes I am provoked by the homosexual guys; regularly they come to me with their nasty arguments, but the second worst fear is that I am afraid the inmates and staff find out about my status because it will spread across the institution and cause worsened isolation, worse treatment and might even endanger my life. I consider this not to be the end of the world for me, but I am seeking compensation from the Department of Correctional Services in whatever way they can,” Morton says.

A close associate with whom Morton also shared his ordeal tells the Sunday Observer that the inmate has secured legal representation.

However, Commissioner of Corrections Major Richard Reese says that a legal harangue might not be necessary as hope might very well be on Morton’s side. Noting that the ‘social work’ story of the island’s correctional services have never been told, Reese says Morton is being considered for compassionate release based on his health situation, which is terminal.

In the meantime, Reese says a complete review of Morton’s situation has been undertaken and the correctional services was satisfied that there was a sufficient supply of drugs available. Noting that the institution has no way of proving whether Morton had indeed been infected after he was incarcerated, Reese points out that this was one of the reasons mandatory testing was now being done upon entry as a pre-emptive move.

The commissioner of corrections further points out that while HIV negative inmates are not segregated from HIV positive inmates, they are in fact ‘housed singly’.

The same applies to persons who come in with contagious diseases, Reese says.