“Sam Samath”, an activist and former political prisoner, has gone to prison for simply exercising the rights and freedoms that everyone should be afforded. She recounted her experiences behind the prison walls and her dreams that are yet to become real.
The name “Sam Samath”, aka “Art,” might not be a familiar one. She is an LGBTQ+ activist who went to prison along with several other political activists. Sam was accused of urinating while standing on a ship container in front of the 1st Infantry Regiment during the demonstrations in 2020. She was charged with committing five offences, including violation of Articles 215 and 216 of the Criminal Code, of resisting or obstructing a competent official, of violating the Emergency Decree, and of being an alien who entered and resided in the Kingdom illegally.
After more than 103 days in custody, she was allowed to post bail. Since then, she has been in and out of prison several times. Still, it has never dented her determination to change Thai society for the better. Even when confronting with one of the harshest experiences in her life, moral support from everyone outside while she was in custody helped to propel Sam forward to fight for a society that treats everyone equally.
Iron gates, iron bars and lost humanity
“Upon my arrival, I was greeted by iron bars, tall iron gates, extensive barbed wire. No green trees. Everything was made of cement and rusty and downbeat iron bars. I decided that despite not liking any of this, I had to try to accept it. And no matter what happened here, I had to survive it. I took antihistamines to fall asleep because sleeping was one of the best solutions to my problems.”
After being arrested at home by the police, charges were pressed against her without the presence of her lawyer and without her being informed of her rights. Sam was remanded in custody at the Bangkok Remand Prison and felt lonely, scared, and unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
“Upon my arrival at the prison, I felt so lonely, so isolated. What stunned me was that they forced me to strip down in order to check if I was bringing anything inside. That really troubled me as an LGBTQ+ person. And I had to undress in the presence of nearly 30 people in the room. Then, I was brought into the prison and had to live a life in which our humanity was pushed down to zero. We had to share the toilets. You cannot even call it a toilet. It was simply a latrine seat surrounded by concrete blocks. While using the toilet, you have to squat facing each other. People in the room can look at you. It was worse during the Covid-19 outbreak. We had to sit in a cramped space and it was scorching there. There were just two fans. I did not like it. It was so detrimental to our humanity.”
In addition to the environment which made Sam hopeless and dejected, people around her in the prison were another factor that woefully undermined her spirit. A barrage of sarcastic and belittling words were uttered against the champion of rights and freedoms day in and day out. Being accused of joining the struggle just for money really enraged her so much so she decided to retaliate. That did not help to calm her down.
“The words wielded by the wardens was so undermining to my spirit. They simply told us not to do that again. Those in the prison often said that eventually people would forget about you; don’t just do that again. I had to tolerate such a torrent of verbal abuse. It kept demoralizing me, from zero further to negative. It made me feel like it’d be better to die.”
“What I did was in the service of my dignity. I wanted to say what I could not say when I was younger. (I wanted to have) freedom when roaming outside without fear of being arrested by the police, or of being asked if I am an alien. I did not want such treatment. I want to live my life like other people without fear. I wanted access to medical treatment, knowledge, education, and doing everything that other people can do.”
Bad quality of life in prison
According to Sam, upon her initial arrival in the prison, each day passed by with difficulty. Being forced to do what she did not want to and terrible experiences prompted her to fight back. Eventually, she realized it would be better to stay quiet.
“I had to wake up at 5.30 and then was forced to say prayers, even though everyone came from different religions. But everyone was forced to wake up early to say Buddhist prayers. They did not care to ask about our religion. Otherwise, they might just ask in passing since what they practiced was so different (from what they said). We were forced to do the same things and barely had any freedom. They also forced us to stand and sing the royal anthem which I did not want to do, but I had to. I could not say much since the wardens often spoke rudely to me and preferred barking at me. This made me feel very bad. Perhaps, because they were all men, as well, so it was necessary to use strong words to keep the inmates in control. But I had never experienced such thing before. It was an agonizing experience for me.”
Sam’s worst experience in the prison happened during the outbreak of Covid-19. She told us she saw people lying dead and it appeared to be a normal occurrence for the inmates. Sam nearly lost her life from testing positive for Covid-19 in the prison as well.
“I was then transferred to Zone 8 in the four-story building. Each room could accommodate up to 43 inmates, very crowded. As I entered the room, we found it was so hot inside and smelled so stinky. I could hardly breathe because I had to wear three or four layers of masks. And there was a shortage of masks. The prison did not distribute masks. We only got them from TLHR. That helped us to have some masks. I caught Covid-19 and coughed up blood. But the officials did not respond at all. Neither nurses nor doctors were sent in to examine us. They just left us there until my blood oxygen level was so low and I could barely breathe. I could not move around anymore. They carried me outside to wait for a car to pick me up. Upon arrival at the hospital, I did not receive much treatment. They only gave us favipiravir and paracetamol, which were only of slightly better quality than the drugs inside the prison. That made my condition get better. I got to bathe in clean water without the stench of canal mud. I felt better and could breathe better.”
Wanting to surrender, but her fighting spirit remained deep inside
All the bad experiences in prison that Sam repeatedly faced made her feel she should surrender. Maybe, she should put her head down and just accept her fate. Maybe she should confine herself to a tiny corner of society. There was no need to keep on fighting at the expense of her own liberty. But her dreams were more important than the difficulties she was facing. She was determined to fight on for her survival.
“I used to promise to myself that if I made it outside prison, I would no longer get involved with politics. It was so tiring. It was so dispiriting. I ate a lot of Mama (instant noodles) until my skin turned yellow. This was yet to mention the way of living, lack of water, stinky smells, dustiness, and crowdedness. I coughed at myself, at other people, and even at the food I was eating. I ate on the floor that I just put my foot on. It was so discouraging. I did not want to live such a life anymore. But my dreams were more important. I told myself to keep up my spirits a bit more and soon I would be released.”
Apart from her determination to continue her path as an activist, getting to meet with fellow political activists in the prison helped to fuel her and revive her wilting spirit. It helped to nurture her, making her strong and resilient despite being surrounded by the high walls. Sam recounted that one day, while sitting in her prison cell, she saw when Arnon (Arnon Nampa, human rights lawyer) and other protest leaders walked past her cell. She decided to call out to them. And that was another turning point in her life.
“Of course, I knew who they were, but I did not have the guts to greet them. I thought they were just celebrities. On that day, about ten protest leaders were walking past my cell, and I decided to call out to them. The person who ran toward me was Lawyer Arnon. He asked what charges I faced, from which incidences. When I told him that I urinated on the police, he said it would be ok. He would get me in touch with the lawyers. After a while, he brought me food and bought me stuff. I never thought I would have such a time. It made me feel I was not so alone while in the prison. I was not there just by myself. Not long after, some lawyer contacted me, asking about me and depositing money for me.”
Getting to know other political prisoners in the prison, particularly the protest leaders, ensured that Sam received better treatment from the wardens. Her quality of life increased. Meanwhile, moral support from people outside gradually reached Sam and that became a crucially important source of support for an underdog who was facing charges simply for exercising her right to freedom of expression.
“After 14 days in the prison’s quarantine zone, I received a letter. I was deeply hoping that someone would write a letter to me. I wondered, would there be anyone outside who still cared for me? Then, I received two letters. It thrilled me that I was not forgotten. Even though I could not read well, I read the letters repeatedly. It made me feel I had friends outside. Even though the letters arrived so slowly. They gave me much moral support. They made me feel so heartened, so cheered up. Whenever I read them, it made me cry. It made me feel that at least I was not fighting alone.”
Life after such cruel time behind barbed wire
After being discharged from prison, she forgot how to live a normal life. She forgot how to use the Sky Train, forgot her passwords. She had to begin everything anew. Sam was scared of the reality beyond the high walls of the prison. The loud noises around Sam made her feel isolated in the society in which she used to live. It made her feel scared of going outside and she asked herself repeatedly as to what has actually happened to her.
“The accumulated stress from being in prison made me lose my hair. It made my skin darker. My face became so dark like a malnourished person. My friends were worried about me and did not want me to join the protests anymore. They pleaded for me to quit. They told me other people had their support, but I had none. I thought I was lucky for having TLHR to help and look after me. It felt like at least I had some support during my fight. That helped to alleviate much of my suffering. But when I sat down and reflected on the past to see if what I was doing was right, I still felt it was the right thing to do. After all, I would carry on doing it. I continued to participate in more political activities and was among the first to be issued with arrest warrants. From then on, I was in and out of the prison several times. But there was nothing to fear.”
Dreaming of receiving an education and having an ID card with 13-digits, Sam has never given up or stopped during her struggle which may have an easy or soon victory. The 13-digit ID card may not be that important for many, but for her, it can unlock all aspects of her life and she desperately wants it.
“Many think it is impossible to make any change now. Eventually, all people will go to jail. But what we have done has helped to change society substantially. Society nowadays has changed quite a lot. Three or four years ago, such change was not visible. Our society needs to be changed. But we need to understand that for something that has been rooted for a long time, any change has to be gradual. We are waging a war, although we, the people, are unarmed. And we may have to lose someone during the course of our fight. For example, we have lost Bung. Some of us have decided to retreat, or switched sides. It is normal during the course of warfare.”
Asked if Thailand nowadays has changed in the direction Sam wants, what would she be engaged with, Sam beamed us a sweet smile and said she was perhaps in the middle of camping somewhere in nature, or drinking and eating while chatting joyfully with a company of her dear friends, or was shopping for perfume.
“But I cannot do that now. Even though I live my life outside the prison, I still yearn to see faces of my friends who are still held inside the prison. It makes me feel I cannot just enjoy my life as such. Like during the past Songkran, I used to think how people were throwing water at each other. I was once in that situation; thinking about people outside who were reveling with the festival and setting off loud fireworks. But inside, people could simply hold on to the iron bars and gazing at the glittering lights outside. We could only do that,” she said. Sam ended our conversation with her trembling voice, before putting her head down and wiping tears from her cheeks.
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