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Black Beach: 491 Days in One of Africa’s Most Brutal Prisons
Black Beach, located on Bioko island off the mainland of Equatorial Guinea, is one of the world’s most feared prisons, notorious for its brutality and inhumane conditions. In 2013, South African businessman Daniel Janse van Rensburg set off to the West African country to finalize a legitimate airline contract with a local politician. Within days, Daniel was arrested by the local Rapid Intervention Force, had his passport confiscated, and was held prisoner without trial in the island’s infamous ‘Guantanamo’ cells, where he witnessed torture for the first time. He was released by the courts but promptly re-arrested, and this time taken to Black Beach.
What follows is his remarkable story of survival over more than a year, made possible by his unwavering faith and the humanity of a few fellow inmates. In a thrilling first-person narrative, Daniel relives his ordeal, detailing his arrest, his flight to the South African embassy while dodging armed men, his near escape and subsequent re-arrest at the airport, his harrowing incarceration at Black Beach and the horrific conditions in the prison, and his ceaseless hope to return to South Africa and be reunited with his family. A story of courage in the face of overwhelming adversity, this book demonstrates both the strength of the human spirit and the toll injustice takes on ordinary people who fall foul of the powerful and corrupt.
What follows is his remarkable story of survival over more than a year, made possible by his unwavering faith and the humanity of a few fellow inmates. In a thrilling first-person narrative, Daniel relives his ordeal, detailing his arrest, his flight to the South African embassy while dodging armed men, his near escape and subsequent re-arrest at the airport, his harrowing incarceration at Black Beach and the horrific conditions in the prison, and his ceaseless hope to return to South Africa and be reunited with his family. A story of courage in the face of overwhelming adversity, this book demonstrates both the strength of the human spirit and the toll injustice takes on ordinary people who fall foul of the powerful and corrupt.
304 pages, Paperback
Published November 18, 2022
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October 11, 2022
#BlackBeach – Daniel Janse van Rensburg & Tracey Pharoah
#PenguinRandomhouseSA
‘FREEDOM
Such a powerful symbol and often taken for granted, for many it is the most primitive and essential of all human rights, the cornerstone of morality, but until it is stolen from you, you will never fully appreciate its essence.’
Bioko Island, formerly known as Fernando Po, is part of Equatorial Guinea in West-Africa, but does not lie directly off the mainland and is actually closer (35km) to the shore of Cameroon, positioned 235km to the North of Equatorial Guinea. The capitol, Malabo, houses one of the most brutal prisons in the world, known as ‘Black Beach’ (due to the colour of the surrounding sand), but also as the ‘Auschwitch of Africa’ (242), notorious for suffering, torture, and missing persons. The conditions are, euphemistically described, inhumane: 400 souls are confined to a space designed for 80; an area smaller than a soccer field. The minority of the inmates are housed in dysfunctional, overcrowded cells; the general population left to fend for themselves, building shelters, in an open courtyard, from whatever junk they can salvage. There is no running water in the bathrooms. Water must be carried in a bucket – if you are lucky enough to have one. There is no distinction between men, women and children in the general population and most nights there are a maximum of three guards on duty: ‘It’s like watching a petrol tanker leaking fuel everywhere and everyone you see has a burning match.’ (139)
In October 2013 a South African businessman, husband, and father, Daniel Janse van Rensburg, travels to Malabo to close a deal with a local businessman with strong ties to the ruling Obiang family. He was meant to be home after less than a week. Instead, he found himself arrested at gunpoint by the RIF (Rapid Intervention Force), a tactical unit similar to SWAT in the US and detained, first in the ‘Guantanamo’ cells and then in the infamous Black Beach. After 549 days in detention, 491 thereof in Black Beach, he arrived home in South Africa in 2015. This book is his story.
In first person narrative he describes the horrors of his ordeal in raw, evocative prose: ‘My thoughts are like quicksand, dragging me into the depths of despair…’ (79); ‘All the horrors seem amplified at night…’ (54); ‘Some days it’s hard to remember that I am still part of something bigger than this cage I am living in.’ (156); the shock when realizing his fingerprints were taken for one reason only: …it’s “for later”, in case they need to identify my body at the morgue.’ (83), and the anguish when the calls came for those to be executed (by firing squad): ‘Amadou. My barber, my tea maker, my friend.’ (168)
He also shares some trivia and anecdotes, including the rumour that Frederick Forsyth wrote his famous ‘The Dogs of War’ while residing in the Hotel Ureca in Malabo; the fact that the last white man to be detained in Black Beach before 2013 was Simon Mann and his team of mercenaries; playing imaginary golf with a broken umbrella during a rainstorm: ‘They’re watching me… chuckling as I stand in the downpour, swinging my closed umbrella, then cupping my hand over my eyes and peering off into the distance.’ (165), and ‘I know that many locals dabble in voodoo and black magic and that cannibalism is still practised on the island. I don’t want to end up on the menu.’ (111)
The depth and intensity of his courageous fight against the overwhelming adversity of the powerful and the corrupt is aptly illustrated by the use of contrasts: attending an intimate, traditional farm wedding with his wife before arriving in West Africa; the luxury of his short stay in the glamorous Hilton Hotel prior to his detention in a hell hole, and the everyday hustle and bustle in bright sunlight on the streets of Malabo, only a short distance away form the desperation and darkness of Black Beach.
One of the most heart wrenching scenes plays out in Hoekwil, South Africa, when his wife, Melanie, learns of his kidnapping and disappearance: ‘Daniel is missing. How can they all carry on as if things are normal?’ She then proceeds to pull his clothing from their hangers, burying herself therein in his closet, seeking solace from the pain.
After a lengthy legal battle in the Western Cape High Court, Daniel was awarded R39.8 million in restitution in 2021; the respondent being Theodorin Obiang, the vice-president of Equatorial Guinea. At the time of publication, no compensation had been paid yet.
It is an uncomfortable, painful, and upsetting memoir to read, but also inspirational and eye opening.
#BlackBeach – Daniel Janse van Rensburg & Tracey Pharoah
#PenguinRandomhouseSA
‘FREEDOM
Such a powerful symbol and often taken for granted, for many it is the most primitive and essential of all human rights, the cornerstone of morality, but until it is stolen from you, you will never fully appreciate its essence.’
Bioko Island, formerly known as Fernando Po, is part of Equatorial Guinea in West-Africa, but does not lie directly off the mainland and is actually closer (35km) to the shore of Cameroon, positioned 235km to the North of Equatorial Guinea. The capitol, Malabo, houses one of the most brutal prisons in the world, known as ‘Black Beach’ (due to the colour of the surrounding sand), but also as the ‘Auschwitch of Africa’ (242), notorious for suffering, torture, and missing persons. The conditions are, euphemistically described, inhumane: 400 souls are confined to a space designed for 80; an area smaller than a soccer field. The minority of the inmates are housed in dysfunctional, overcrowded cells; the general population left to fend for themselves, building shelters, in an open courtyard, from whatever junk they can salvage. There is no running water in the bathrooms. Water must be carried in a bucket – if you are lucky enough to have one. There is no distinction between men, women and children in the general population and most nights there are a maximum of three guards on duty: ‘It’s like watching a petrol tanker leaking fuel everywhere and everyone you see has a burning match.’ (139)
In October 2013 a South African businessman, husband, and father, Daniel Janse van Rensburg, travels to Malabo to close a deal with a local businessman with strong ties to the ruling Obiang family. He was meant to be home after less than a week. Instead, he found himself arrested at gunpoint by the RIF (Rapid Intervention Force), a tactical unit similar to SWAT in the US and detained, first in the ‘Guantanamo’ cells and then in the infamous Black Beach. After 549 days in detention, 491 thereof in Black Beach, he arrived home in South Africa in 2015. This book is his story.
In first person narrative he describes the horrors of his ordeal in raw, evocative prose: ‘My thoughts are like quicksand, dragging me into the depths of despair…’ (79); ‘All the horrors seem amplified at night…’ (54); ‘Some days it’s hard to remember that I am still part of something bigger than this cage I am living in.’ (156); the shock when realizing his fingerprints were taken for one reason only: …it’s “for later”, in case they need to identify my body at the morgue.’ (83), and the anguish when the calls came for those to be executed (by firing squad): ‘Amadou. My barber, my tea maker, my friend.’ (168)
He also shares some trivia and anecdotes, including the rumour that Frederick Forsyth wrote his famous ‘The Dogs of War’ while residing in the Hotel Ureca in Malabo; the fact that the last white man to be detained in Black Beach before 2013 was Simon Mann and his team of mercenaries; playing imaginary golf with a broken umbrella during a rainstorm: ‘They’re watching me… chuckling as I stand in the downpour, swinging my closed umbrella, then cupping my hand over my eyes and peering off into the distance.’ (165), and ‘I know that many locals dabble in voodoo and black magic and that cannibalism is still practised on the island. I don’t want to end up on the menu.’ (111)
The depth and intensity of his courageous fight against the overwhelming adversity of the powerful and the corrupt is aptly illustrated by the use of contrasts: attending an intimate, traditional farm wedding with his wife before arriving in West Africa; the luxury of his short stay in the glamorous Hilton Hotel prior to his detention in a hell hole, and the everyday hustle and bustle in bright sunlight on the streets of Malabo, only a short distance away form the desperation and darkness of Black Beach.
One of the most heart wrenching scenes plays out in Hoekwil, South Africa, when his wife, Melanie, learns of his kidnapping and disappearance: ‘Daniel is missing. How can they all carry on as if things are normal?’ She then proceeds to pull his clothing from their hangers, burying herself therein in his closet, seeking solace from the pain.
After a lengthy legal battle in the Western Cape High Court, Daniel was awarded R39.8 million in restitution in 2021; the respondent being Theodorin Obiang, the vice-president of Equatorial Guinea. At the time of publication, no compensation had been paid yet.
It is an uncomfortable, painful, and upsetting memoir to read, but also inspirational and eye opening.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ #Uitdieperdsebek
#PenguinRandomhouseSA
‘FREEDOM
Such a powerful symbol and often taken for granted, for many it is the most primitive and essential of all human rights, the cornerstone of morality, but until it is stolen from you, you will never fully appreciate its essence.’
Bioko Island, formerly known as Fernando Po, is part of Equatorial Guinea in West-Africa, but does not lie directly off the mainland and is actually closer (35km) to the shore of Cameroon, positioned 235km to the North of Equatorial Guinea. The capitol, Malabo, houses one of the most brutal prisons in the world, known as ‘Black Beach’ (due to the colour of the surrounding sand), but also as the ‘Auschwitch of Africa’ (242), notorious for suffering, torture, and missing persons. The conditions are, euphemistically described, inhumane: 400 souls are confined to a space designed for 80; an area smaller than a soccer field. The minority of the inmates are housed in dysfunctional, overcrowded cells; the general population left to fend for themselves, building shelters, in an open courtyard, from whatever junk they can salvage. There is no running water in the bathrooms. Water must be carried in a bucket – if you are lucky enough to have one. There is no distinction between men, women and children in the general population and most nights there are a maximum of three guards on duty: ‘It’s like watching a petrol tanker leaking fuel everywhere and everyone you see has a burning match.’ (139)
In October 2013 a South African businessman, husband, and father, Daniel Janse van Rensburg, travels to Malabo to close a deal with a local businessman with strong ties to the ruling Obiang family. He was meant to be home after less than a week. Instead, he found himself arrested at gunpoint by the RIF (Rapid Intervention Force), a tactical unit similar to SWAT in the US and detained, first in the ‘Guantanamo’ cells and then in the infamous Black Beach. After 549 days in detention, 491 thereof in Black Beach, he arrived home in South Africa in 2015. This book is his story.
In first person narrative he describes the horrors of his ordeal in raw, evocative prose: ‘My thoughts are like quicksand, dragging me into the depths of despair…’ (79); ‘All the horrors seem amplified at night…’ (54); ‘Some days it’s hard to remember that I am still part of something bigger than this cage I am living in.’ (156); the shock when realizing his fingerprints were taken for one reason only: …it’s “for later”, in case they need to identify my body at the morgue.’ (83), and the anguish when the calls came for those to be executed (by firing squad): ‘Amadou. My barber, my tea maker, my friend.’ (168)
He also shares some trivia and anecdotes, including the rumour that Frederick Forsyth wrote his famous ‘The Dogs of War’ while residing in the Hotel Ureca in Malabo; the fact that the last white man to be detained in Black Beach before 2013 was Simon Mann and his team of mercenaries; playing imaginary golf with a broken umbrella during a rainstorm: ‘They’re watching me… chuckling as I stand in the downpour, swinging my closed umbrella, then cupping my hand over my eyes and peering off into the distance.’ (165), and ‘I know that many locals dabble in voodoo and black magic and that cannibalism is still practised on the island. I don’t want to end up on the menu.’ (111)
The depth and intensity of his courageous fight against the overwhelming adversity of the powerful and the corrupt is aptly illustrated by the use of contrasts: attending an intimate, traditional farm wedding with his wife before arriving in West Africa; the luxury of his short stay in the glamorous Hilton Hotel prior to his detention in a hell hole, and the everyday hustle and bustle in bright sunlight on the streets of Malabo, only a short distance away form the desperation and darkness of Black Beach.
One of the most heart wrenching scenes plays out in Hoekwil, South Africa, when his wife, Melanie, learns of his kidnapping and disappearance: ‘Daniel is missing. How can they all carry on as if things are normal?’ She then proceeds to pull his clothing from their hangers, burying herself therein in his closet, seeking solace from the pain.
After a lengthy legal battle in the Western Cape High Court, Daniel was awarded R39.8 million in restitution in 2021; the respondent being Theodorin Obiang, the vice-president of Equatorial Guinea. At the time of publication, no compensation had been paid yet.
It is an uncomfortable, painful, and upsetting memoir to read, but also inspirational and eye opening.
#BlackBeach – Daniel Janse van Rensburg & Tracey Pharoah
#PenguinRandomhouseSA
‘FREEDOM
Such a powerful symbol and often taken for granted, for many it is the most primitive and essential of all human rights, the cornerstone of morality, but until it is stolen from you, you will never fully appreciate its essence.’
Bioko Island, formerly known as Fernando Po, is part of Equatorial Guinea in West-Africa, but does not lie directly off the mainland and is actually closer (35km) to the shore of Cameroon, positioned 235km to the North of Equatorial Guinea. The capitol, Malabo, houses one of the most brutal prisons in the world, known as ‘Black Beach’ (due to the colour of the surrounding sand), but also as the ‘Auschwitch of Africa’ (242), notorious for suffering, torture, and missing persons. The conditions are, euphemistically described, inhumane: 400 souls are confined to a space designed for 80; an area smaller than a soccer field. The minority of the inmates are housed in dysfunctional, overcrowded cells; the general population left to fend for themselves, building shelters, in an open courtyard, from whatever junk they can salvage. There is no running water in the bathrooms. Water must be carried in a bucket – if you are lucky enough to have one. There is no distinction between men, women and children in the general population and most nights there are a maximum of three guards on duty: ‘It’s like watching a petrol tanker leaking fuel everywhere and everyone you see has a burning match.’ (139)
In October 2013 a South African businessman, husband, and father, Daniel Janse van Rensburg, travels to Malabo to close a deal with a local businessman with strong ties to the ruling Obiang family. He was meant to be home after less than a week. Instead, he found himself arrested at gunpoint by the RIF (Rapid Intervention Force), a tactical unit similar to SWAT in the US and detained, first in the ‘Guantanamo’ cells and then in the infamous Black Beach. After 549 days in detention, 491 thereof in Black Beach, he arrived home in South Africa in 2015. This book is his story.
In first person narrative he describes the horrors of his ordeal in raw, evocative prose: ‘My thoughts are like quicksand, dragging me into the depths of despair…’ (79); ‘All the horrors seem amplified at night…’ (54); ‘Some days it’s hard to remember that I am still part of something bigger than this cage I am living in.’ (156); the shock when realizing his fingerprints were taken for one reason only: …it’s “for later”, in case they need to identify my body at the morgue.’ (83), and the anguish when the calls came for those to be executed (by firing squad): ‘Amadou. My barber, my tea maker, my friend.’ (168)
He also shares some trivia and anecdotes, including the rumour that Frederick Forsyth wrote his famous ‘The Dogs of War’ while residing in the Hotel Ureca in Malabo; the fact that the last white man to be detained in Black Beach before 2013 was Simon Mann and his team of mercenaries; playing imaginary golf with a broken umbrella during a rainstorm: ‘They’re watching me… chuckling as I stand in the downpour, swinging my closed umbrella, then cupping my hand over my eyes and peering off into the distance.’ (165), and ‘I know that many locals dabble in voodoo and black magic and that cannibalism is still practised on the island. I don’t want to end up on the menu.’ (111)
The depth and intensity of his courageous fight against the overwhelming adversity of the powerful and the corrupt is aptly illustrated by the use of contrasts: attending an intimate, traditional farm wedding with his wife before arriving in West Africa; the luxury of his short stay in the glamorous Hilton Hotel prior to his detention in a hell hole, and the everyday hustle and bustle in bright sunlight on the streets of Malabo, only a short distance away form the desperation and darkness of Black Beach.
One of the most heart wrenching scenes plays out in Hoekwil, South Africa, when his wife, Melanie, learns of his kidnapping and disappearance: ‘Daniel is missing. How can they all carry on as if things are normal?’ She then proceeds to pull his clothing from their hangers, burying herself therein in his closet, seeking solace from the pain.
After a lengthy legal battle in the Western Cape High Court, Daniel was awarded R39.8 million in restitution in 2021; the respondent being Theodorin Obiang, the vice-president of Equatorial Guinea. At the time of publication, no compensation had been paid yet.
It is an uncomfortable, painful, and upsetting memoir to read, but also inspirational and eye opening.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ #Uitdieperdsebek
July 30, 2023
Very well written; thought provoking and absolutely frightening story well articulated with dignity.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews