OPINION:
Now I know how Nelson Mandela felt.
We both fought for freedoms and both paid the price.
A warder's first words when Mandela arrived at Robben Island were, "This is the Island. This is where
you will die."
A Corrections office representative's first words when I arrived at Mt Eden were, "This is the remand centre. Would you like a cup of tea?"
But no tea could unthaw the chill I felt in my bones when the bars of the prison cell slammed shut.
It is a sound I will remember for the rest of my days.
It was the sound of totalitarianism and the dark forces of the deep state.
I knew who was responsible. It wasn't really the Corrections office representative, who introduced himself as Duncan, and gave me the Wi-Fi password. He was just following orders when he closed the prison doors. Those orders came from Jacinda Ardern.
Or as she is known to many, Jacinda Bin Lardern.
But if she thinks that locking me up and taking away my freedoms will break my spirit, I have news for her.
I will not bend.
Mandela wrote of the political prisoners at Robben Island, "We drew strength and sustenance from the knowledge that we were part of a greater humanity than our jailers could claim."
It's very dark in this cell.
And cold.
And lonely.
"Duncan," I cried out, "let me out! For all that's good and holy, unlock these doors! I just need to see daylight and feel the touch of another human being! Please, I beg you! This is inhuman. I've lost track of time. How long have I been in this hell of incarceration? A day? Two days? A week? A year?"
"About 10 minutes," he said.
He brought in a cup of tea, Cameo Creme biscuits, and the Sky remote.
"I don't like Cameo Cremes," I said.
"Sorry, mate."