“There are horror stories that have emerged from those spaces: mutilations, rapes, murders, carried out with military efficiency.” THEY SWAGGERED TOWARDS ME, flashing smiles and exchanging words. I was standing alone in an empty courtyard, looming prison blocks on every side. The din of cat-calls, sexual slurs, screams and shouts made the space seem smaller. I was nervous, excited, slightly overwhelmed.
In front of me, in orange jump suits, were convicts: guys who may be in here for drug dealing, rape or murder. Their fingers tattooed with prison ink, their heads shaved, their eyes keen. They had been sent to the bowels of one of South Africa’s most notorious maximum security prisons to keep them off the streets. And they were here in that courtyard, a funnel of angry sound…