The New Draconian Prison Mail Regulation

By Uhuru B. Rowe
December 23, 2017

“WE WANT the Abolition of any VADOc policy, practice, or procedure which violates the human/constitutional rights of incarcerated people and endangers/hinders their spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical growth and well being and rehabilitation efforts including, but not limited to: …(I) VADOc newly implemented draconian mail policy which went into effect on April 17, 2017…” — Demand #16(K) of the Free Virginia Movement

Imagine this: It is your birthday and your last year in college. And even though you’ve moved halfway across the country to attend college, your mother has unfailingly mailed you a birthday card and a picture every year since your freshman year. So you eagerly anticipate the arrival of the mailman. He finally arrives and hands you two pieces of paper. As you examine it, you come to the horrifying conclusion that the mailman just handed you black and white photocopies of the birthday card and picture your mother has mailed to you. You race behind the mailman. You finally catch up to him — your heart is raising and you’re barely out of breath. But you somehow manage to ask him, “What in the hell are these copies you have given me. Where’s my damn mail?” He turns around, with a coy grin on his face, and replies, “Oh yeah, the government implemented a new policy a few months ago to keep YOU people from mailing drugs to each other. So we’re only allowed to give you black and white photocopies of your mail now. The originals we have to destroy. Oh, by the way, tell your folks there’s a three page limit on letters now. So if they mail you a letter that’s over that limit, I’m obligated to return it.”

Continue reading “The New Draconian Prison Mail Regulation”


Pain and Death

By Uhuru Rowe
June 3rd, 2016

I have known Pain all of my life, althought I’ve only vaguely known Death.  They are relatives of sorts and both have found it necessary to hold me hostage in a world that I have neither the strength nor the resolve to break free of.

Many times when I thought it was Death knocking on my door, it turned out to be Pain instead.

Pain and I have become very much acquainted since my birth.  It was Pain who flew into a jeolous tirade and injured my friends Hope and Joy when all they were trying to do was show me a good time.

Pain was there when I was robbed of my childhood innocence; when I was bullied in school; when I experienced my first heartbreak; when I was labeled the black sheep of my family; when I was rejected and looked down upon by this cruel, racist Amerikan society solely because of the color of my skin.

Sometimes Pain offered me some drugs and alcohol, and even a gun to cope with life.  But as of late, he’s only offered me misery and suffereing.

Unlike everyone else who’ve abondoned me during times of distress, Pain has  remained consistently loyal and attentive.

When I was sentenced to die in prison; when my father and brother died within a year of each other; when I was placed on solitary confinement, it was Pain who sought me out and wrapped in his arms and squeesed me until I felt numb and paralyzed.

But death is not like his cousin Pain.  Whereas Pain relishes in and thrives on my suffering and agony, Death wants to put me out of my misery.

Death is scary but he offers me an easy way out: a noose, a razor blade, or a deadly concoction of pills; but I am not ready to accept these things from Death even though he daily flaunts them before me in an alluring and enticing fashion.

Death was there when I tried to commit suicide in my early teenage years.  Death was there when I was nearly murdered in an attempted robbery.  He was there when I cought this case – taking the lives of my two victims when I wished it was me he’d taken instead.  And I think I heard him whisper in my ear when I went on a hunger stirke.

While Pain is loud, abrasive and chaotic, Death is smooth, quiet and calculating.  I can never hear him coming.

Death has gotten accustomed to sneaking up and setting next to me while I’m being entertained by Pain, hoping that I’ll turn and acknowledge him.

Perhaps, one day, when Pain gets to be too much, solitary becomes unbearable, and Hope and Joy are nowhere to be found, I’ll turn and introduce myself to Death and consider what he has to offer.

My Indefinite Hunger Strike

The following was recived AFTER I had already recived word that Uhuru had ended his hunger strike.  News travel slow when your in solitary confinement, not to mention prison in general.  That being said I still feel that it should be posted here…

To all of my friends, supporters and comrades:
Effective June 6th, 2016, I will be going on an indefinite hunger strike to compel the prison administration here at Buckingham Correctional Center in Dillwyn, Virginia and the Virginia Department of Corrections, in general, to transfer me to another facility. Continue reading “My Indefinite Hunger Strike”

Uhuru Baraka Rowe’s statement of solidarity with people in prison who are on hunger strike in Alabama, California, and Palestine…

July 7, 2014

Revolutionary Greetings:

Feeling that my essay “From Unity to Collective Liberation” did not sufficiently (or specifically) express my solidarity with the Free Alabama Movement (FAM) and the California and Palestinian hunger strikers, this letter is to serve as my expression of solidarity with the above brave souls. Continue reading “Uhuru Baraka Rowe’s statement of solidarity with people in prison who are on hunger strike in Alabama, California, and Palestine…”