Imdad Ali listens to the voices in his head. They tell him he is being watched. They convince him that everyone wants to hurt him. They remind him that he can speak to the sun to regulate the weather, control the world by running around his bed and that he can make nooses descend from the sky.
His family had seen this before. His father, Muhammad Ismail, hid his illness well. He would wake up in the morning, dress and go to work. He would come back home, do the ordinary things that make an ordinary life. But every now and then, his family would notice a sudden regression. He would disappear into himself, as everyone around him would as well, living in a world that welcomed no one but him.
Like Imdad, the voices told Ismail he was infallible. He did not need sustenance, and so he starved himself for days. He did not need to worry about breaking bones, and so he jumped off the roof of his house. And one night, those voices convinced him to jump in front of a moving train because such was his power.
He left behind a widow and six children.
But Imdad’s disease has left behind much more: a medical community fiercely advocating for the rights of the mentally ill, and a judiciary that has the chance to put a law in place that prevents the gross spectacle of hanging someone who until the end, will have no idea how or why he is being punished.
Imdad was born unwell. Neither the shooting, nor being jailed made him get better. Jail authorities have seen the plight of the mentally ill up close. They know what it looks like when only the body of a prisoner is in their custody, and the mind somewhere else. Multiple doctors have evaluated Imdad, who in the 16 years he has been in jail, has coined his own words, walked into walls thinking they would dissolve upon his touch and had long conversations with people no one else could see.
Imdad can’t control his mental illness but his mental illness controls him. And yet, it has been enough to warrant him a punishment that is irreversible and unforgiving. His intent, the pinnacle of both our religion and our law, was never determined by him but rather by his disease.
Fellow inmates have enough to deal with. A manic in their confined space is an entirely unwelcome presence, resulting in Imdad being attacked on more than one occasion. He has been in solitary confinement for the last four years. Alone, with his voices, who constantly torment him. How visible these invisible enemies must be, only he knows.
But what is no longer invisible are the stakes at hand. A person of unsound mind is unable to form criminal intent, and cannot be subject to punishment under our law. And yet, the 100th person to be sent to the gallows in Pakistan, after the moratorium was lifted on the death penalty, was Munir Hussain. Khizar Hayat, another schizophrenic prisoner, came within days of being executed earlier this year. Both had and have records of a severe mental illness, but their death sentences still stand. Worrying still is that they are definitely not alone. Owing to the lack of treatment for mental health issues and the dearth of a proper evaluation of the matter under the criminal justice system, many prisoners remain undiagnosed. And many have hanged unnecessarily.
Owing to the lack of treatment for mental health issues and the dearth of a proper evaluation of the matter under the criminal justice system — many prisoners remain undiagnosed. And many have been hanged unnecessarily
Imdad’s case made the system stand up. Earlier this month, at a judicial conference organized by Justice Project Pakistan on Mental Health and Mens Rea, Supreme Court Justice Umar Ata Bandial reminded us that it would be “unfair to punish the mentally ill.” Empathy informing the discourse is necessary, and in line with the sentiments of the now Chief Justice of Pakistan, Mian Saqib Nisar who had previously reiterated his support for better protections of the mentally ill.
Six months ago, in the same vein, the Supreme Court ordered that a Special Medical Board be formed to evaluate Imdad’s condition after accepting the Punjab Government’s review petition. The results of that remain pending before the court. In that time, his condition has only worsened. He is destitute, as is his family, and must be provided the medical treatment that he is entitled to under the Jail Manual.
Anything less would only silence the wrong voices.
The writer works with Justice Project Pakistan, a human rights law firm in Lahore. She tweets @Rimmel_Mohydin