EXCERPTS PART 7

HMP THAMESIDE AND HOMECOMING

“We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable Rights that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

I wrote to District Judge Gary Lucie of Redbridge Magistrates Court, about the injustice she perpetrated on me by reminding me to custody when she didn't have a clue of what I had been subjected to by the Beasts of England. I recounted my ordeal in the hands of the authorities, copies of my blog publications and my blog address and mailed it by Recorded Delivery to Magistrates Judge Gary Lucie.

As the police van taking me to court was heading in the direction of Redbridge Magistrates, I prayed fervently to meet Gary Lucie again. Now I had given her a gist of the hell I had been through. So I was looking forward to see if she’d remind me to custody again. As we arrived at Redbridge Magistrates, all the prisoners were taken out of the van except me. I was in the Prison Van for almost an hour. I asked the driver what was going on. He told me I wrote a letter to Gary Lucie, so she had knowledge of my case. As a result, she wouldn’t handle my case. “Wow! Justice has eluded me once again,” I thought to myself. So I was taken to Woolwich Magistrates.

Many questions run through my mind as I was being driven to Woolwich. “Is this how the British justice system works? Do they take delight in just putting people behind bars, especially blacks?” Well, there was no need for me to drag it further then. I was told in Pentonville that: “the quickest way out of prison is to plead guilty at your first appearance, and save yourself an endless journey of prison to court and vice-versa.” So on my way to Woolwich Magistrates, I had decided to plead guilty right away. However, there was a little twist at the Woolwich Magistrates. As my charges were being read out, I realised that three more charges had been added to the breach. I became speechless. Storms were just raging through my head.

The prosecutor brought it to the attention of the Magistrates Judge that I was released from prison few months before. And that was enough to convict me. As the Judge read out the charges, I didn't utter a word. I refused to enter a plea. I was reminded to custody at HMP Thameside. I later got a copy of the Witness Statement and the Police Statement on my docket. The Witness Statement by Graeme SMITH is as follows: (Please look out for the launch of Darkest Humanity).

I also wrote to His Honour Judge Murray Shands (Shanks), the Resident Judge of Snaresbrook Crown Court who presided over my case. I acknowledged and thanked him for being a humane Judge, but it was wrong for him to have handed me a prison sentence, when he himself clearly said that he didn’t fully understand my case. I sent copies to Rt. Hon Margaret Hodge MP for Barking and Chair of the Public Accounts Committee of the House of Commons, the longstanding and powerful British Politician that I was accused of harassing and threatening to kill.

My case was again committed for trial at the Snaresbrook Crown Court. Again, I wished Resident Judge Murray Shands (Shanks) would handle it, but sadly, that didn’t happen. Not when he now knows about my grievance with the British establishment, and why my “Diary of a Mad Black Man” is filled with animals and beasts. So, I pleaded guilty to every charge and was handed down Nine (9) months prison sentence. By the time sentence was passed, I only had a month left to complete my sentence.

Without wasting time I submitted a request to the Home Office for my removal to Ghana. I received a response from the Home Office, dated 27/06/2014 and signed by M. Shah, Facilitated Return Scheme. My removal request was processed. My flight was booked for Thursday 10th July. On Monday 7th July, I was taken from HMP Thameside to a detention centre in Gatwick. On Thursday morning, I was driven from the detention centre to Heathrow Airport. About midday, I was escorted to board British Airways flight to Accra.

The flight took off at 2pm and arrived in Accra about 8:30pm. Through the journey from London to Accra, many things flashed my mind. I had a flashback of my journey - the British dream, and how it all began. I recalled the times I spent watching Dolly Parton's 1983 live performance in London, I recalled Homer's Odyssey and Conrad's Heart of Darkness - both were my course materials for my undergraduate studies in English at the University of Ghana. Now I was recounting my own odyssey and my encounter with the Heart of Darkness. Many times I had walked on the banks of the Thames River along Embankment, trying to retrace the path of Charlie Marlow.

The American lady's post on my Facebook wall started playing heavily on my mind. With my love for the priestly mission weaned off, I'd soon be searching for a job. Twice Her Majesty's convicted felon, how do I explain my Grandma's felony to potential employers? Perhaps I’d rather renew my call into the priesthood, and continue seeing Apostle Paul as my mirror. Soon I'd start seeing family and friends I hadn't seen in years. As the plane touched down on the tarmac, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally I was in Ghana, my dear Ghana. How I had missed Ghana so much. I hope it's not the same Ghana I left years ago, where graduates unemployment was the order of the day. I walked to the arrival hall expecting to have a smooth checkout. My uncle had come to pick me up. But no, Ghana immigration was equally waiting for me. Fate always had something unusual in store for me. If indeed there's reincarnation, then I'd plead with the Creator to put me on a different path in the next life.

I spent over an hour queuing to an entry clearance officer. After that, I was directed to a room. I was told I needed to fill a form. On entering, a young lady and a gentleman were waiting for me. They handed me a form to complete. After completion of the form, they said I had to recount my ordeal for them to write. Every detail, exactly as it happened.

Apparently, often times there are discrepancies in the account of events passed on to the Ghanaian authorities by the British, so I had to tell my side of the story for the two to write. Recounting my ordeal had always been a painful process, and still is. I want to put the past behind me and move on. Sometimes I feel like abandoning this book, as it reminds me of my ordeal. But the truth can only be heard by publishing this book. And it’s only when the truth become known that I can move on with my life, and fulfil my divine assigned mandate on earth. Dear Diary, like I said, my CROSS in life is HEAVY, likewise that of my mirror – Apostle Paul.

I spent several hours still being held up at Ghana Immigration. At midnight, I pleaded with the officers to get information across to my uncle that I was being held. It was past 1am by the time I was let out... As I stepped out of the arrival hall, I started hearing echoes of Osibisa's:

“Welcome Home...”You’ve been gone it’s an empty home/ Come on back when you’re ready to know/ You are always welcome home/ Welcome home/ You’ve been kept on for much too long/ Stand up please and say I am free/ Don’t forget you are welcome home/ Welcome home/ Come with me/ On this happy trip/ Back to the Promise Land/ All will be happy again/ Come with me/ On this happy trip back to the Promise Land/ All will be happy again/ You’ve been gone it’s an empty home/ Come on back when you’re ready to know/ You are always welcome home/ Welcome home/ Come with me/ On this happy trip back to the Promise Land/ All will be happy again/ Come with me/ On this happy trip back to the Promise Land/ All will be happy again/ Welcome home…

Dear Diary, it’s been such an epic journey (The Odyssey), such a long dream (The British Dream); and so long a letter... “If the United Nations don't come for me,” - courtesy Prime Minister Gordon, then I'll be gone, but don't worry, even when I'm gone, I'll continue writing to you till my ink dries up... Letter to Komla Dumor of blessed memory... Please come with me on my British Journey... Please look out for the launch of the FIRST EDITION of the PAN AFRICAN Book DARKEST HUMANITY and let's journey together... The First Edition is sub-titled THE IMMIGRANT.