The sentence has been ratified. The writer Ángel Santiesteban will serve 5 years in prison. He knows that his innocence is more than proven. He also knows he will be locked up for another reason. To avoid having to admit that he is a political prisoner, they falsified crime and the victim.
Ángel Santiesteban’s real fault is that he was never silent. If some criminal act was committed, he was speaking his mind whenever he could. But he had the misfortune to live in a country where the truth has to be absolute, even if it’s a lie.
I’ve spent all these days thinking about Angelito. Although I can follow him on social networks, I don’t have the slightest contact with him. I do not know what to say, I can not think of anything other than give him a big hug. And that is absurd, impossible.
My silence has been accompanied by memories of the places and things we share. Everything passes over and over again, like a movie, and through much of the Cuban geography: a shower at the hotel Pasacaballos, a dead end in Cumanayagua, the courtyard of the house of Rosita in Miramar, a plane that could not land in Nueva Gerona …
I’m an atheist. I can’t pray, nor is there the slightest sense of a curse. All my rituals are processed through what I want and what the future is about to offer me. I limit myself to the first, which is what I have really under control.
I wish, from the depths of me, that the executioners of Ángel Santiesteban don’t manage to make him serve his sentence. That freedom comes first and we release them all. Because, after all, all of Cuba is a prison. The only difference is that some have more room to walk than others. I would just like to would hug my little brother. As for the rest, it’s up to chance. I know that even he wants…
Publicado por El Fogonero
February 5 2013