He welcomed us to his home. We sat at the edges of a crowded prison cell, with cold steel bunks and an unforgiving concrete floor, and the man called it is home.

Modise, a former inmate of Robben Island, thanked our group for visiting and learning about the sorted history of the island and its inhabitants. He smiled to us. He prodded and joked because our mood was sombre and depressed. His explanation being that coming to work each day can be challenging in and of itself and that our negative expressions would not ease that burden.

We were brought into the world of prison life and the emotional and physical destruction of that world through personal accounts and stories. To the guide's surprise as well as ours, in our group stepped forward brothers whose uncle was incarcerated as a political prisoner. They retold their struggles of family members being able to visit for only a half hour each month and during that visit witnessing the slow degradation of their uncle. I have experienced nothing in my life that could bring me to a place in which I can relate to these men and the other family members affected in this way. I was so thankful that they chose to share their day of remembrance and reflection with the rest of the group. Their immense ability to forgive and let go of anger astounds me.

As we toured the prison grounds our leader told stories of the physical abuse enacted here. Being descriptive, but not overly detailed, he showed us how the white officers became monsterous and violently powerful. It frightened me to think that a man with a wife and children at home could come to work and slowly beat the life and dignity out of a fellow human being. And our guide made a point to ensure that we knew he does not think of the officers as monsters or creatures performing inhuman acts. Allowing these men to be seen as anything but human detracts from the reality that it was our fellow man that committed these crimes. If we believe that it takes a monster to perpetuate thsi type of oppression, it is not hard to see how this type of mass human rights violations could rise again.

I left Robben Island suprisingly calm. I left with a feeling of appreciation for the way this community has openly taught us about their past and their pain. And I left with the drive to grow in my own ability to forgive and move forward.