Justice Comes Slowly to Pakistan’s Prisoners

Rev. Samson Javed, right, celebrates the opening of a barrack for Christian inmates at District Jail, Faisalabad, Pakistan. Kahwaja Muhammad Islam, a member of provincial assembly, cuts the ribbon

Pakistan’s blasphemy law made international news again in March when a mob burned Christian homes in the Joseph Colony, Lahore, after a local man accused of insulting Islam was arrested.

The event reminded the world how dangerous it is to be a Christian living in Pakistan. Peaceful existence is tenuous. Any day a person could be falsely accused, arrested and held in prison until trial. Or worse: suffer the mob’s justice.

In Pakistan an accusation is enough to make an arrest. That’s what happened to Rehmat Masiah, 75, who was accused of blasphemy after a land dispute went sour.

Separated from the general population of inmates, he was held in the same cellblock as murderers awaiting execution. A prison guard stayed with him each night to ensure fellow inmates wouldn’t kill him.

Masiah was in prison nearly 18 months before charges were dismissed. His appeal was spearheaded by Rev. Samson Javed, a Presbyterian minister.

Born and raised in Pakistan, Javed worked for more than 10 years in prison ministry. He became involved in the ministry after visiting Christian inmates awaiting execution.

“There were about 15 Christians there. I asked if they would sing a hymn with me in Urdu.” As the men joined voices with Javed, they turned over the plastic meal bowls and started drumming along.

“It was so moving. I started crying —how they were playing the plastic bowls and singing—I cannot explain. These people, who are waiting for their death and how they are singing and crying in front of the Lord: that moved me to jump into this ministry. That was the day I said, ‘yes, I need to do something for all these people.’ I went many times after.”

At the time, he was executive secretary of the Pakistan Bible Correspondence Institute, an organization that provides online Bible education for people who want to discretely learn more about the Christian faith. Under Javed’s leadership, PBCI had been expanding its ministry by providing food and disaster relief to Pakistanis. He helped create a prison ministries initiative under PBCI’s social justice wing.

After his initial encounter with Christian inmates, Javed began to make weekly visits to the Faisalabad District Jail. Besides those charged under the blasphemy law, there were many Christians facing lesser charges who were held with the general population. Javed said the prison can hold up to 400 prisoners; at any given time there are 80 to 120 who are Christian.

“When I visited, there would be 80 to 100 waiting for me in a very small room. And I would preach and we would worship together. And then there would be people waiting in line to talk to me—they just wanted to share their story. And that was something, you know. It was relief to them, that someone heard.”

“One day it was very hot. It was only nine o’clock in the morning. The summer is very hot in our country. And in this small place I saw that people were sitting in the sun, but were trying to put their heads in the shade. I asked them to stand. I said, ‘let us pray God will give us a place were we can sit nicely and worship Him.'”

Javed began talking to the prison’s superintendent about building a chapel. He received permission three months later. After another three months, the chapel was built. That was in 2009.

“Now every day from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. they can go in there. Read the Bible. Pray. It was a miracle.”
It was also sneaky.

Officially, the chapel is called a “library.” Javed learned from the superintendent that if they called the building a chapel, they wouldn’t get the approval necessary to start construction.

Two years later, Javed and a group of his ecumenical colleagues convinced the superintendent to build a separate wing for Christian inmates.

Unlike inmates charged under the blasphemy law, Christians charged or convicted for smaller crimes are often held in open spaces where other inmates can easily bully them. Javed said it’s common for Christians to be denied space to sleep. In some cases they are pressured to convert to Islam as a way of avoiding further persecution.

Again, Javed and the superintendent needed to tread carefully while making plans for the separate wing. In order to avoid accusations of favouritism, which could provoke extremists, they made sure the wing was not exclusively Christian; instead, the majority of the inmates would be Christians.

On Dec. 5, 2011 the District Jail of Faisalabad opened its first Christian wing. It’s located next to the chapel and accommodates about 120 inmates.

When asked why he was so successful in making these changes, Javed responded, “Because I worked alongside other people. I gathered all denominations and said, ‘yes, we are all together on this.’ And I worked with the superintendent of the prison and human rights activists, too.”

Today Javed, his wife and three children live in Canada. They arrived May 2012 as refugees.
“Things were very bad for me. I had to leave the country. My life was in danger. My family’s life was in danger as well.”

He works night shifts at a super-store a block away from the church’s national offices in Toronto. When he isn’t working there he volunteers at the Daily Bread Food Bank and preaches when and where he can, in English or Urdu, on television, at conferences, in churches.

And he continues to visit prisoners.

About Seth Veenstra

Seth Veenstra is the Record’s staff writer.