Once a listener behind bars, today a voice of wisdom and redemption. Igshaan Abrahams, 50, born and raised in Lavender Hill, recently returned to VOC’s Prisoners Hour—but this time, not as an inmate, but as an interviewee.
Having served 18 years in Pollsmoor Prison, Abrahams shared his journey of hardship, transformation, and the lessons he hopes to pass on to the youth.
Speaking to host Yusuf Fisher, Abrahams reflected on how, as a prisoner, Prisoners Hour was a beacon of hope.
“We always wanted the program to go on for longer. Daar is lig uit die einde van die tonnel. Just hearing those words gave us hope—it made me believe that one day, I too would have a chance at a new beginning.”
The program also served as a bridge between inmates and their families.
“It was a way for us to reconnect, ask for forgiveness, and experience healing.”
Where It All Started
Raised in a good household with strict but loving parents, Abrahams admitted that his downfall began with rebellion.
“My parents taught us respect and guided us on the right path, but I wanted to experiment. I started disobeying them, and when my father told me that if I wanted to live my own way, there was the door—I took it as an opportunity.”
What started as small transgressions quickly escalated.
“My mother ran a tuck shop, and I started stealing. Before I knew it, I was in and out of court, facing 17 cases. Eventually, I was sentenced to 18 years in prison.”
Turning 21 in prison was a stark reminder of how far he had fallen.
“They made me a jail cake—brown bread mixed with water, milk, peanut butter, jam, and Kool-Aid for coloring.”
Reconnecting with Allah
Despite the hardship, prison became a place of personal and spiritual transformation.
“Life inside made me a better person—it connected me to Allah.”
Abrahams found solace in the Muslim Prisoners Board, where he met various shuyookh who provided spiritual guidance.
“On Fridays, we couldn’t perform our own Jumu’ah, so we gathered mats and held thikr sessions. I led the thikr, and over time, more prisoners joined. That was the beginning of the Moslem Kamer (Muslim Room).”
The introduction of dedicated Muslim spaces within the prison became a turning point.
“The room had no pressure, only spirituality. Before entering, you had to understand that the rules from outside didn’t apply here—if you stepped out of line, you were out.”
Through this initiative, prisoners received Qur’ans, resources, and a sense of belonging.
Losing His Father
One of the most painful moments of his incarceration was learning of his father’s passing on Labarang morning.
“My family always visited me on Eid, but that day, my name wasn’t on the visitor’s list. I knew something was wrong. An imam broke the news to me, and I was shattered.”
His mother had always warned him that prison would rob him of life’s most precious moments.
“Not being at my father’s janazah was a wake-up call. His death motivated me to change—to find purpose.”
Daar is lig uit die einde van die tonnel
For Abrahams, support was the key to successfully reintegrating into society.
“Many ex-convicts re-offend because they lack support. I was lucky to have it.”
Before his release, he was gradually reintroduced to the outside world.
“They took me to a shop, an ATM, and then the beach. For 18 years, my world was prison—everything outside felt different. Even food tasted different.”
A Message to the Youth
Having lived through the consequences of poor choices, Abrahams offers heartfelt advice:
“Don’t get into situations you’re not prepared for. Respect your parents and make them proud. Don’t sit in jail crying, realizing too late that they were only trying to help you.”
Now, as a free man, Abrahams carries a message of redemption. He is actively involved in community projects and plays a key role in uplifting others through his local mosque.
Listen to the full interview below:
VOC News
Photo: Supplied
