We Live in a Prison

We live in a prison.

Our prison is comfortable. Wooden floors and open fire places create a genuine domestic ambience. The gaze through barred windows gives onto a pool or a fish pond.

But it remains a prison.

High walls obstruct the view. 40 000 volt pulsate through the electric fence that looms skywards. The main gate opens and closes by remote control. Electric sensors monitor every movement. A security door protects the bedrooms. Watch dogs patrol the garden. When it rings we don't open the door. We scan the visitor on a video screen and communicate with him through the intercom.

Our prison doesn't protect the outside world from us, but us from the outside world. Thinking about the outside world we become scared. That is why we lock ourselves in - voluntarily. If somebody intrudes despite all these defence mechanisms we press a panic button. A red light flashes in a control room. Men in uniform rush by with blue light and siren to protect our physical and material integrity. The use of the fire arm is always an option in case of a threat. ARMED RESPONSE reads a menacingly designed sign that is fixed to the outside wall well visibly.

ARMED RESPONSE deters our enemies.

The men who protect us are from the COMPANY. They are no sworn in officers but private employees who go on strike when paid poorly. For their services we pay 350 Rand per month. We signed the contract when we moved into the house. Until today, we have remitted 16800 Rand - for being scared.

WE are many. Most of us are white but increasingly we are also black and we live in the northern suburbs of Johannesburg. We live in prosperity of which, unsurprisingly, we don't want to surrender anything. This is why we remitted 16800 Rand. Thus, we create prosperity - also the COMPANY’S. The owners of the COMPANY want prosperity as much as we do. We sign their contracts. They are delighted. We pay because we are scared. We are scared because there is violence.

What would be without violence?

The police cannot protect us. The police forms part of the state that hinders our businesses. The state costs a lot of money, our money. What is at stake is our prosperity of which, unsurprisingly, we don't want to surrender anything. We take life in our own hands. We purchase the school for our children, the security for our health, the provision for our age, the road for our cars and the protection for our families.

We can afford it.

Not all can afford it.

But all want prosperity.
 
That is why we are scared.

We live in a prison.