Prison art: unshackled
The exhibition of paintings done by the inmates of the Karachi Central Prison at Alliance Francaise, Karachi, recently, was at par with any show by promising artists. Without attempting to deprive Alliance the credit for hosting this exhibition year after year, I felt that the best way to judge the exhibition was to see the artists at work.
Though an earlier request was turned down, I was pleasantly surprised to find the IG Prison Sindh, N.H. Mangan more than willing to let me have a detailed visit not just to the art class room of the Karachi Central Prison male inmates, but also the ones for debutant artists in the adjoining juvenile jail and women’s jail.
Art classes, the IG’s pet project, started first in the men’s section in 2008 when he was superintendent of jail. Now that he is the IG and holds the responsibility of all jails in Sindh, he is working on a plan to introduce the subject for all the jailbirds in the province. The, soon to start, art classes in the New District Jail in Malir (commonly called the Landhi Jail) is a step in the same direction. By the way, Mangan is himself an ardent art collector and often purchases works of the inmates.
Escorted by the coordinator of the art project, Abdul Wahid Khairi and Sikandar Jogi, the art teacher of male inmates, I first went to the juvenile jail. On the way I was told that the amount generated through sales at exhibitions and at an outlet on the premises go to the artists themselves.
How they get the materials — canvas, colours, paper, pencils etc. — is a logical question. There are donors, such as Aftab Tapal, whose generosity comes to their rescue.
“We teach everything from sketching and painting to sculpture. I would like to teach them print making also but sadly we don’t have a print making machine,” rued Jogi, a graduate of the Central Institute of Arts and Crafts, Karachi. One wishes someone could chip in with that.
It was heartening to watch boys in the Youthful Offenders Industrial Institute, which is the official name of the juvenile jail, totally engrossed in their work. They were all newcomers to fine art and were being tutored by the soft-spoken but highly motivated Firdous Siddiqui, who holds a master’s in fine arts from the University of Punjab. One boy was yawning, not out of boredom but because he couldn’t get a wink the night before. Reason: no prizes for guessing: load-shedding the previous night. As we were leaving the premises, we had a hurried look at other classes.
Firdous led us to the women’s jail, where the class was held earlier in the morning and the women were now attending to their chores. A girl in her early 20s, who introduced herself as Ayesha, brought her sketches. For a beginner they were quite nice. But the most impressive works were abstract pieces of oil on canvas by Anab Hameed, who spoke English impeccably. She teaches the language to children of fellow inmates. Anab is accused of murder and has been in the jail for 10 months, along with her co-accused boyfriend.
Firdous took our leave as Khairi and Jogi took me to the imposing 115-year-old building of the Karachi Central Prison. The inmate artists who were quietly practising their skills — sculpting, sketching and painting — had the advantage of working in an air-conditioned room. Needless to say, the AC was also donated by a philanthropist.
I was particularly impressed by Abdul Aziz Bugti, who has been convicted of murder. He is condemned to death, not once but four times, according to him, and to serve rigorous imprisonment for 200 years. “My fault is that I was Akbar Bugti’s driver,” he said. Initially, he spent his time sulking, but when he took to painting he did so with a vengeance. His portrait of a young Baloch on display at the Alliance exhibition was done highly skilfully.
Hasnain Raza, an articulate young man clad in a shirt and jeans, has been convicted of being an accomplice in a murder case but he has filed a clemency appeal with the Sindh High Court. “I am hoping against hope,” he said, and perhaps as a reflection of his attitude the colours in his paintings are quite bright. Kazim Shah had displayed his relief of Faiz Ahmed Faiz near the entrance. This depiction, in plaster of paris, did bear some resemblance to his favourite poet. Maybe the Faiz Museum in Lahore could purchase it.
The two art teachers said that due to their trials many prisoners, young and not so young, male and female, have to miss their art classes.
The IG Prison Sindh has promised that an exhibition of paintings of women inmates will be held soon. How soon? I didn’t ask.
The writer is a senior journalist and an author.