I had no idea what to expect before visiting Robben Island.

I booked it because it kept popping up on TripAdvisor and ChatGPT recommended it as part of my itinerary, given its significance in South Africa’s history.

Honestly, I barely knew the basics, and all that I learned was reading off the history on the walls before boarding the ferry, and a 10-min quick search on our 45-minute journey.

A little fun fact: Robbeneiland, Dutch word for Robben Island. The word “Robben” comes from ‘seals’ and “Neiland”, ‘island’. Early Dutch and European explorers found plenty of seals around its shores.

Arriving at Robben Island

Today, it’s a scenic journey from V&A Waterfront with views of Cape Town and Table Mountain behind you.

But for prisoners arriving on the island, it was a very different experience.

Many were transported in shackles, and our guide explained that some were kept below deck in holding areas, often in the dark and unable to see where they were going. On top of that, all they could smell was diesel, and for many, it was their first time at sea. The anxiousness and panic one must have felt.

And long before it became a political prison, the island was used for different forms of confinement, including as a place to isolate people with leprosy and other illnesses.

Today, Robben Island is also home to around 120+ residents – most of which are staying to maintain the museum. At one point, more than 300 people lived here, but many families moved away after the school closed.

According to our guide, one of the earliest known prisoners was Autshumato. He survived by eating penguin eggs, and later escaped from the island by stealing a rowboat from the Dutch – which they realised only 2 weeks later.

The limestone quarry

This was where many political prisoners, including Nelson Mandela, carried out hard labour.

Our guide explained that prisoners were initially told they would work there for six months, but many continued working there for years even after the original purpose of the work had changed.

The conditions were harsh. The glare from the limestone affected prisoners’ eyesight, while the dust caused long-term health problems for many.

Yet, many former prisoners actually preferred the quarry to being inside their cells – at least they could see sunlight and speak to each other.

One of the stories I found most interesting was about the cave beside the quarry.

The cave was used as a toilet, dining area and shelter. Over time, the conditions became so unpleasant that even the guards avoided entering.

The prisoners realised this and started using the cave as a place to discuss ideas and exchange knowledge.

Our guide described it as the prisoners’ “first parliament”. A place that was meant to break them down became a place where conversations continued.

In the pic above, you’d notice a small pile of stones.

At first glance, it doesn’t look like much.

Our guide explained that when Nelson Mandela returned to Robben Island in 1995 with fellow former prisoners, he picked up a stone and placed it on the ground. One by one, the others added their own.

Today, the pile stands as a memorial to those who fought against apartheid and to those who never lived to see a democratic South Africa.

The unheard story of Robert Sobukwe

Another person I learned about during the visit was Robert Sobukwe. He’s obviously much less known/documented than Mandela in our history books.

Sobukwe was the founder of the Pan Africanist Congress and one of the leading voices against apartheid.

The Pass Laws: Every Black South African over the age of 16 was required to carry an identity document at all times. Many people referred to it as the “stupid book” because of the laws tied to it. Without it, you could be arrested on the spot.

In 1960, Sobukwe called on Black South Africans to leave their pass books at home and peacefully present themselves at their nearest police station, asking to be arrested.

The idea was simple: If thousands of people were arrested at the same time, the prison system would be overwhelmed. More importantly, the world would see the reality of apartheid.

Instead, the protests ended in tragedy. Police opened fire on unarmed protesters, killing 69 people and injuring many more.

Soon after, Sobukwe was arrested and he spent years isolated from other prisoners.

When his sentence was due to end, the government introduced a special law — later known as the Sobukwe Clause — allowing them to keep him imprisoned because they feared his influence.

Prison guide by former inmate

The second part of the tour takes you inside the prison itself.

Our guide was Derek, a former political prisoner who arrived on Robben Island when he was just 18 years old, sentenced for sabotage.

He walked us through the communal cells where dozens of prisoners once slept shoulder to shoulder. At full capacity, the prison was built for around 650 inmates, but during periods of overcrowding it held well over a thousand. A room built for around 30-40 people could end up holding 60.

Prison conditions also changed over the years. Earlier generations of political prisoners, including Mandela and his peers, spent years sleeping on thin mats laid directly on the concrete floor before beds were eventually introduced.

He also spoke about how apartheid extended into prison life.

African prisoners were issued short trousers, sandals and fewer clothing items, while coloured and Indian prisoners received long trousers, shoes and socks. Even food rations differed based on race.

Historically, political prisoners on Robben Island generally did not have routine phone calls with their families. Communication was limited and meant to break down prisoners mentally.

Imagine one censored letter every six months, and a 30-minute visit every six months, separated by glass in many cases and under supervision. Any communication must only be conducted in English or Afrikaan.

Apartheid didn’t end because of one person. It took prisoners, activists, communities, governments and people around the world choosing to stand up for what was right.

As I was leaving, I came across a sign that read:

“There’s only one race — the human race.”

In a world that feels increasingly divided today, perhaps that’s a message worth remembering more than ever.

Love,

Olly’26