What Saoirse really means
By Laurence McKeown
Fair play to him. Those were Gerry's words when asked for a
comment about the escape of Liam Averill from Long Kesh and I
would say he summed up the thoughts of all in those few words.
Everyone likes an escape. It counjures up defiance, a battle of
wits and success in the face of great obstacles. When thinking of
escapes we physically retrace the steps of the escape, wondering
if at any moment someone is going to say halt.
Coming as it did in prisoners month, it left an even more sweet
taste in our mouths. Like vintage port, claims a cultured friend
of mine, and who are we to contradict him?
I was thinking of escapes, prisons and prisoners as I was writing
out a few Christmas cards to friends (which meant I was left with
the bigger part of a packet of 12). Thoughts of a recent
conversation with the partner of a prisoner came to mind. Let's
call her Sile.
Sile's partner has spent a long time in prison, as long as some
life sentence prisoners. Due to his particular circumstances Sile
doesn't know when he will be released but she lives in hope. She
was telling me how this Christmas she will also have her sister's
three young children. As her sister is ill Sile offered to look
after them. What else could could you do, she said. They would be
taken into care.
Sile herself has two children, one of whom requires a special
diet. Sile didn't speak with any display of self-pity nor did she
see herself as any different from most other single parents, but
the tiredness and concern showed on her face. I wondered how many
more lines would be added to it before 1997 was over.
Saoirse, to Sile and many more like her, is a word that conjures
up much more than a campaign in support of the release of
prisoners. Saoirse for Sile would mean much more than the release
of her partner. It would mean saoirse to enjoy life a bit more.
It would mean someone to share the problems with and the good
times too. It would mean someone to help with the children to
bring in money to ease the burden of housework.
To socialise with, to go home with, to waken up to. Sile can't
get out of her prison by donning a wig and walking past the
sentries. No degree of cunning on her part will overcome the
walls that surround her on all sides. When the headcount is done
she will be there in the morning, at noon, in the evening.
Serving out her sentence.
So as 1997 draws to a close I wish Liam and all others thinking
along those lines every success in 1998. It has been an eventful
year, a good year for republicans and we should rejoice in our
victories, take time out to give each other a slap on the back.
But spare a thought too for the Sile in your street or area. For
many the peace process has meant they can sleep a bit more easily
in their beds at night. Others simply continue to sleep alone.
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