Life after wrongful conviction: Lonely, jobless, scarred for life

They were convicted of crimes they did not commit and are permanently changed by spending years in prison.

They face serious psychiatric problems and can never return to the lives they had before.

Four exonerees — Morris Kabiera, Calvin Yogo, Omar Ismael and Teresa Njoroge — told the Star their false convictions continue to blight their lives many years later.

 SCARRED FOR LIFE

“When employers look at these injuries on my knees, sick eyes, scars on my face and they look at my age, they say, 'This guy is a liability',” Omar Ismael says.

Ismael, now 64, was convicted of defiling a 13-year-old girl in 2007. The only evidence was her word against his.

The former artist spent his time in prison telling everybody he was innocent and appealing to the higher court to review his case.

"You just want to get out. You want your freedom," he said. "You just want your freedom back."

While in prison at the age of 54, he says he almost died. “Aging in prison is really difficult. Younger, more aggressive inmates try to push you aside to get in front of you in line for all kinds of things,” Ismael says.

He says he was stigmatised by his own family and was identified as a criminal.

“My family never visited. I had no one following up on my appeal. I wrote nine reminders to court with no response. I lost hope,” he says.

But in 2017, a former ex-convict who had been Ismael’s confidant followed up on his appeal, which led to his release on May 9, 2017.

Judge Ngenye Macharia wrote, "I quash the conviction, set aside the sentence and order that the appellant be and is hereby forthwith set free, unless otherwise lawfully held. It is so ordered.”

He was so excited as justice was served after spending nine years in prison. However, his excitement on his release was shortlived. Now he’s fighting another tough battle — trying to win compensation for his wrongful conviction and imprisonment.

"People think that when we get out, it is the old proverbial fairytale ending, we get plenty of money and head off into the sunset and live happily ever after. It's a load of nonsense," Ismael says.

"Two years down the line and I am still chasing my compensation from the state for wrongful conviction."

‘CAN'T FIND A JOB’

“Being an ex-convict, I couldn’t find a job. The stigmatisation was real. By the time you are coming out, people have written you off. It is worse than the prison itself,” Teresa Wanjiku says.

Once a bank manager at a renowned bank, Wanjiku, then 29, was jailed over the loss of Sh9.9 million at the bank. A crime she says she did not commit.

She served her sentence with her three-month baby girl in 2011.

“I was sentenced to a year in jail for conspiring to defraud the bank. I was quickly shoved while still holding my daughter and taken to a waiting cell, and later to a bus. Lang’ata Women's Prison was the journey’s end,” Teresa recalls.

The former elegant bank manager was traumatised to wear the prison uniform, ‘Kunguru’ as they call it, and worse seeing the place her daughter would call home for one year.

At the prison, she says, your dignity and esteem go, it tears you apart.

"As a result of my good behaviour, I got remission and only served for eight months,” Wanjiku says.

Two and a half years later, she got cleared and vindicated. But it did not end her problems.

“I couldn’t get employed. I settled on starting a social enterprise in 2015 called Clean Start,” she says.

The enterprise seeks to restore the dignity of women, girls and children who get caught in the revolving cycle of poverty, survival crimes and imprisonment.

‘STRANGER’

"My son could not remember me at all. He said he had seen me in his mother's photographs but did not know who I was. It was sad but I understood him," Morris Kaberia says.

Kaberia, now 48, spent 13 years in Kamiti Prisons on charges of robbery with violence. He was released on September 20, 2018, after a Kiambu Court judge overturned his conviction.

The former police officer in Embu for 12 years, was arrested in 2005 and sentenced to hang in 2013. A sentence that was commuted to life by President Uhuru Kenyatta in 2015.

“The memories of the doors locking behind me as I was escorted by prison wardens to my new home are still fresh in my mind. This marked the end of an active life fighting crime in the streets, where I had almost lost my life through a bandit’s bullet just four years after I had been enrolled into the force,” he says.

He soon fell into depression and spent his first days there trying to come to terms with what was happening to him.

“One day my son asked me one question over the phone: Dad, will you ever come back? It was a very painful question for me, and I told him that with God, everything is possible. I never wanted them to visit me in prison because I did not want them to see me in my prison uniform," Kaberia said.

Jail turned into a nightmare for him, as he faced inmates he’d helped send to prison when he was a security officer.

"I knew I was in for real trouble when I saw those inmates. They did everything they could to make my life a living hell,” he said.

During his 13 years and 7 months in prison, he lost his father.

“I was destitute, lonely, discouraged and felt unwanted after having lost all my friends. In 2010, I experienced my most painful moment in prison, when I lost my best friend — my father. Even worse, I was unable to attend his burial,” Kaberia said.

After countless efforts to appeal were unsuccessful, he lost hope and accepted to serve a wrongful sentence bitter and remorseful.

But on September 20 last year, the Appellate Court said Kaberia’s rights were violated during the trial and ruled against his sentence and conviction.

 “I was ecstatic! I felt born again, and it was an experience that will remain with me for the rest of my life," Kaberia said.

‘VERY LONELY’

“The state arrested me unlawfully and now release me, and they don’t care how my life is affected,” says exoneree Calvin Yogo.

He says he lost everything he had.

“I was a disc jockey and I lost all my equipment while serving my sentence. My family was destroyed. I was a breadwinner. I used to make sure everybody had what they needed. I can’t fend for myself. I was a lot happier in prison than when I got out,” he says.

Yogo was convicted and sentenced to 15 years' imprisonment for defilement in 2012 at the age of 25.

He was cleared of all charges in 2017 after a lengthy and costly appeal process, but since his release, he has struggled to get by.

"It cost me over Sh100,000 to get exonerated. That was my mum and dad's money to retire. They're struggling. I'm struggling."

The once-established disc jockey, who earned on average Sh50,000 a night in a club, now survives on odd jobs. He still has nightmares of prison.

"I have to live with these scars all my life," he says.

ARGUING THE CASES

International Justice Mission director Greg Tarrant says falsely convicted persons are mostly victims of police abuse of power. Ninety per cent are male, aged 18-35 years and from a poor background. Hence, they cannot afford a lawyer of their choice to represent them.

Criminal advocate John Lewis Onkendi says many prisoners are in prison because they don’t understand law.

“Accused persons who are not represented do not at times challenge the evidence adduced in court or poke holes into it to establish reasonable doubt," Onkendi said.

He said this is usually the case in most criminal cases and even capital offences like attempted robbery or robbery with violence, and criminal cases where the accused is a child. 

"They either do not know how to or are too intimidated by the court process. At times, the evidence may not be sufficient to sustain a conviction,” Onkendi added.

KNCHR commissioner Jedidah Waruhiu says a misapprehension of the law by the trial court and lack of legal awareness on the part of an accused person lead to conviction on non-existing offences.

“The courts end up giving illegal and invalid convictions that should be considered illegal and unlawful,” she said.

Jedidah said corruption of magistrates and judges has led to strange decisions. She cited files, evidence or court papers disappearing or getting replaced, including parts of the judgment. If the accused appeals, he or she is acquitted for lack of evidence. 

But appealing is not easy for a convicted person who has no lawyer and has to rely on the prison goodwill in a maze of judicial backlog, Jedidah said.

“Collusion by criminal justice actors to present false testimony could also result in wrongful convictions, and so could abuse of due process or use of the criminal justice system to settle personal vendetta,” she said.

The commissioner cited an example of Kenyan history during the colonial times, when Mau Mau or freedom fighters were labelled ‘terrorists’ and charged, convicted and hanged at times without trial, such as Jomo Kenyatta and Dedan Kimathi.

WAY FORWARD

KNHCR lawyer Cyrus Maweu says paralegals should monitor police stations, prisons and courts to prevent such wrongful processes and convictions.

“This should be properly institutionalised in the criminal justice system and directly linked to the existing Court User Committees," he said.

He also advocated the establishment of a nonjudicial criminal review committee, whose mandate would include receiving petitions and conducting investigations to establish the veracity of claims, such as those made by inmates in prisons.

IJM director Greg Tarrant said abuse of police power is one of the foremost reasons civilians can be wrongfully convicted.

“IJM Kenya exists to end police abuse of power. We are focused on ending the impunity that supports this abuse,” he said, adding that they are working with policing oversight institutions to protect the innocent.