British
grandmother Lindsay Sandiford, 58, is facing death by firing squad
after Indonesia announced that its next batch of executions will be in
secret – and with no advance warning.
Sandiford,
sentenced to death for smuggling cocaine into Bali in 2012, is now the
last prisoner on death row on the island’s Kerobokan jail after eight
other inmates – including her close friend Andrew Chan – were executed
on Wednesday.
Here,
in her own words, Sandiford tells how she has started to write goodbye
letters as she faces up to the gruesome prospect of facing a firing
squad…
My
execution is imminent and I know I might die at any time now. I could
be taken tomorrow from my cell in Bali to Nusa Kambangan – the place
they call Execution Island – and given 72 hours’ notice before I am put
in front of a firing squad.
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In shock: British grandmother Lindsay
Sandiford, who is facing death by firing squad, reads about the fate of
her fellow prisoners last week
I
am now the only prisoner left on death row in Kerobokan and the
Indonesian government says it wants to execute everyone given the death
penalty for drug crimes before the end of 2015 – and that there will be
no clemency.
The
day of my death came closer on Wednesday with the execution in Nusa
Kambangan of eight prisoners, including my dear friend Andrew Chan.
Andrew had helped me through some dark times in Kerobokan after I was
first given the death penalty.
The
Indonesian Attorney General’s office said last week there will be no
warning before the next round of executions and the timing will be kept
secret.
That
means I will be taken straight from my cell to Execution Island and then
given three days’ notice of execution. The list for the next round of
executions is already being drawn up.
That is why, this weekend, I have started to write goodbye letters to members of my family.
I
am out of time to apply for clemency and I have no funds to appeal
against my death sentence, so the authorities can simply assume I accept
my sentence.
It
is terrifying. They have already executed 14 people this year and they
are not going to stop until all of us are dead. The situation is so
volatile. That’s why I have to make my preparations now.
The
night they shot Andrew last week was heartbreaking. It was very quiet
in the prison because everyone knew what was going to happen. I sat in
the kitchen area of my cell with the door shut.
Messages were passed to the prison through the night. I didn’t sleep a wink.
In pictures: My journey from top legal job to cell on death row. Topmost, aged 25 as legal worker and top at the age of 18
Music lover: Lindsay Sandiford is pictured in a dark blue dress at a concert aged 17
I
kept wishing there could be some sort of reprieve, but I didn’t believe
there would be. Everyone kept trying to tell me, ‘There’s still hope’,
but I knew in my heart there wasn’t.
As
they were marched to a jungle clearing with the firing squad, the eight
of them sang Amazing Grace and then they sang 10,000 Reasons – Andrew’s
favourite song – before they were shot. He taught them all to sing it,
bless him.
The executions have forced me to think about how I am going to handle the situation when my own time comes.
I
won’t wear a blindfold. It’s not because I’m brave but because I don’t
want to hide – I want them to look at me when they shoot me.
I long to see and hold my granddaughter
I’ll
sing too, but not Amazing Grace. I’ll sing Magic Moments by Perry Como.
I had a boyfriend who used to change the lyrics of songs and play them
on his Hammond organ to make me laugh.
That was one of the songs he sang and it reminds me of those long-ago days.
One
thing I’m sure about is I don’t want the macabre circus that went on
last week in Nusa Kambangan. The prisoners’ families were publicly
humiliated while they waited for the executions to take place. The
pictures of them crying in anguish are absolutely horrendous.
I
would dearly love to see my family, of course, but I wouldn’t subject
them to that. I don’t want any of my family to be there and I don’t want
a spiritual adviser because I haven’t turned to God.
I’m
not a religious person. I try to do the right thing by everybody, and I
try to keep on an even keel and be kind. My biggest sadness is that I
may never meet my granddaughter. She’s two years and five months old and
she was born after my arrest.
Shame: Lindsay Sandiford is presented to the media with the drugs haul at the Customs Office in Denpasar, Bali in 2012
I long to see her and to hold her, but at the same time I feel it would be better if she doesn’t know me.
If
I did see my granddaughter, it would be for my benefit and not hers.
For her, it would be better if she doesn’t know me and doesn’t see me.
She’s the most important thing in my life even though I’ve never met
her. If anything was possible, I would just like to be a fly on the wall
where she is so I could see her and be in the same space as her.
When
she grows up, I want her to know I wasn’t a bad person. I was coerced
into committing this terrible crime and I did it because I thought it
was the only way to protect my youngest son, her uncle.
I
still find it hard to believe how my life has been turned upside down
in the last few years and how I ended up here alone in a prison on the
other side of the world, waiting to be told when I will die.
I
used to have a family and a good job with a very good salary. For the
best part of 30 years I was a legal cost draftsman. I conducted detailed
assessment hearings in courts and I have appeared in the House of Lords
before the Clerk of the Parliaments.
In
the late 1990s I had a good job and owned a flat in Pimlico overlooking
the Thames and Battersea Power Station. I lived there with my school
teacher husband and our two sons.
We
were together for 15 years, but we grew apart and divorced in 1997. He
is a good man and we’re still friends. After my divorce I moved to
Cheltenham with my boys. I worked in Bristol and drove 130 miles to go
to work and back every day.
I
always worked and I always paid my taxes. When my eldest boy was born I
had just two weeks off work. When my second son was born on the Sunday
of a Bank Holiday weekend, I went back to work on the Wednesday, because
we needed the money.
Proud mother: Lindsay Sandiford is pictured above at the age of 34 after the birth of her first son
After
my sons left school, I went on holiday to India. It was a place I
always wanted to visit and I completely fell in love with it and decided
I wanted to stay. My youngest son came out with me and lived there with
me for two years until he was 18.
I
stayed on in Jaipur. I was always keen on knitting and while I was
there I made shawls and jewellery and sold them back in England and
through a friend who had shops in Jaipur. I used to travel back to
England to see my sons.
My
younger son was vulnerable and when he moved to Brighton he was
targeted by Julian Ponder and some very bad people. [Ponder was jailed
for six years in Bali for possession of drugs.] On one of my trips back
to see my son and help him out, I was told he would be killed if I
didn’t do a job for them.
I
knew enough about the law to know that if I went to the police it would
only make things worse. So after a lot of soul-searching I decided to
do what they told me to do.
I realise it was stupid. I just didn’t see any alternatives at the time.
I
was living overseas, I had no one to turn to and I thought if I just
did what they asked, my son would be safe and everything would be all
right. I followed their instructions and collected a bag to take from
Bangkok to Bali.
I never looked to see what was in it – but I had a good idea.
When
I got to Bali, I collected the bag from the carousel and I was a few
feet from the arrivals hall when I had put the bag through an X-ray
machine. My heart was thumping madly in my chest.
'Heartbreaking': Lindsay Sandiford was close to Andrew Chan, above, who was shot last week
The
customs officer came over to me as the bag came out of the machine and
asked if I had the key to my bag. I said ‘Yes’ and he went through my
bag and he went straight to the false bottom and found the drugs. He
knew exactly where to look.
What
happened next is something that haunts me. At night, I wake up every 90
minutes because I have the most horrendous nightmares. In those
nightmares, I’m back in the room at the customs office when I was
interrogated for two nights.
They wouldn’t let me sleep, they were banging on the windows and door and screaming, ‘No reclining, no reclining.’
Then
two men came in who I had never seen before and told me that I would
get the death penalty for what I’d done. One of them pulled out a black
gun and held it against my head. I said, ‘Pull the trigger’ and he
kicked his chair across the room.
It
was a white tiled floor and it was a metal fold-up chair. He kicked it
across the room and it cracked against the wall. I can hear the sound
right now. I thought he’d shot me. I will never forget that man’s face
and he’s always in my nightmares.
After
two nights of interrogation, I agreed to help the police arrest Julian
and the other members of the syndicate who were waiting for the drugs to
be delivered. They told me my son would be safe and that I would be
given a more lenient sentence for co-operating.
Death squad: Indonesian Paramilitary
Police will carry out executions. They are pictured practising shooting
in Semarang, Central Java, Indonesia
I think I knew all along I was going to get the death penalty.
There
was a ray of hope for me when the prosecutor asked for a 15-year jail
term, and when I got the death sentence I did wonder for a moment: ‘How
the hell did that happen?’
Then
the prosecutor, who had done his best to get me a prison sentence,
wrapped me inside his robe and was trying to protect me. He was crying
in my ear and saying, ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.’
I had taken on a powerful drugs syndicate and I was being made to pay for it.
When
I first came to Kerobokan, I was absolutely terrified. I’d already had
months in police custody where I’d been told the most terrible things by
Julian and the other syndicate members after the sting operation. They
told me my kids were dead and that I’d be next.
I
didn’t speak to anyone in Kerobokan for six months. It was Andrew Chan
who helped me through some really difficult times. We became firm
friends.
In a way it will be a relief to have it all over
He
is one of the heroes of my life and I will never forget him. I miss
Andrew greatly and it is very difficult to cope with the knowledge that
my execution could happen at any time now. The way I cope with my
situation is by shutting it out of my mind. I cope with it by putting it
in a box, because if I let it out I think I’d go mad.
My only chance of avoiding execution now is to file for what is known as a ‘pk’ hearing, which is effectively a full retrial.
I
haven’t been able to do this so far because it’s an expensive process
and I don’t have the funds, and the British Government will not help me.
The
Supreme Court in London recommended the Government treat me as a
special case and consider funding my appeal. The five judges said
substantial mitigating factors had been overlooked in my case and that
there was a disparity of sentencing between me and the other syndicate
members. But Foreign Secretary Philip Hammond refused.
A
few weeks ago, my sister and supporters launched an appeal through a
Facebook page and website in my name to raise money to lodge papers for
the ‘pk’ hearing.
Grim: Indonesian security officers transport the body of executed Nigerian Okwudili Oyatanze after his death
They
are in a race against time to do that before I am executed. I am very
touched and grateful for the support, but at the same time I find it
humiliating to have to ask for help.
The
Australian government funded Andrew’s legal case. A lot of countries
you wouldn’t expect fund these cases for their nationals overseas.
Mexico does. The Philippines does. Even Indonesia does.
I
feel I’ve been made a beggar by my own Government and, by making the
appeal, I’m putting myself in a high-profile position which makes my
situation all the more tenuous and makes them all the more likely to
want me out of the way quickly.
I
could accept my fate if it was just and fair. I have been denied any
proper legal representation so far and I just want the chance to put my
case before a court and let them decide if it is fair I am shot.
I
realise I have committed a heinous crime but I want to know why I have
been singled out to be executed when people higher up the syndicate got
off lightly. All I want is justice, and if the court decides I am such a
bad person that I deserve to be shot, then I will accept that.
I
don’t harbour any bad feeling towards Julian and the other syndicate
members. I’ve got too many other things to worry about and I’ll leave
that to their own karma.
Meanwhile, I have to accept the possibility I could be included in the next batch of drug executions.
Bali is a Hindu island and officials won’t allow executions here so I will have to be moved to Nusa Kambangan to be killed.
When
they came for Andrew, they came in a fleet of armoured vehicles at 4.20
in the morning. They might put on a similar show for me but surely it
would look ridiculous to do that to an old lady.
In
a way it will be a relief to have it over with. It’s hard to live with
the stress and the uncertainty of knowing you are about to be executed.
But for the sake of my granddaughter – and how she will remember me – I
have to keep asking for justice.
As told to Simon Parry. Lindsay Sandiford was not paid for this article.
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