A Cat in Section 17... When Humanity Slipped into Nafha Prison

In Nafha Desert Prison, where life is measured by the time taken and the few meals offered, and where the warden tries to strip the prisoner of everything that resembles a human, a small creature was found that decided to resist in its own way.

A thin cat, the color of dust, made Section 17 its home, refusing to leave despite repeated attempts to expel it. Its presence was not fleeting or coincidental; it was more like a case of silent rebellion, recurring day after day.
The warden does not like what he cannot control. He tried to remove it repeatedly, chased it around corners, closed doors, and searched

underneath the iron beds, but it always returned. It would hide at times, and flee at other times, taking advantage of the moments when the guards were changing, as if it had a clear goal: to stay.

For the prisoners, the cat was not just an animal. Over time, it turned into a rare source of joy in a place that dries up emotions. They would smile every time it escaped from the warden, feeling a small victory each time it succeeded in getting away. Its presence boosted morale, broke the monotony of oppression, and brought a glimpse of life into their hearts.

Perhaps the warden realized that.

Perhaps he felt that this cat kept within the prisoners what the prison was trying to strip away: humanity. Therefore, searching for it was not just a procedure, but an attempt to uproot that little spark that refused to go out.

Despite the scarcity of food, and although the meal barely sufficed for one prisoner, the inmates would spare a little; crumbs of bread, leftovers, a mouthful hidden from the eyes of the guard. Feeding the cat was not a luxury, but a pure humanitarian act, a confirmation that giving is possible even in the harshest circumstances.

As the days passed, its weakness became evident. Its fur lost its shine, its thin body resembled those of the prisoners worn down by hunger; it was a painful scene in its simplicity: a small creature sharing in their hunger, fear, and waiting.

One night, the prisoners woke up to unfamiliar sounds.

Heavy footsteps, sharp orders, flashlights illuminating the darkness. The police stormed the section. One stood at the door, another on the stairs, while the rest carried sticks and searched the corners, looking for the cat.

A tense silence prevailed.

Everyone feared the story would end at that moment.

But the cat... did it again.
Somehow—no one knows how—it managed to escape, disappearing as it was accustomed to, leaving behind the warden's astonishment and a suppressed smile on the faces of the prisoners.

That night, not only did the cat survive, but an idea survived as well: that intelligence could defeat strength, and that the weak can escape if they cling to their faith and beliefs enough.
In Section 17, the cat was not just an animal.. it was a companion, a witness, and a silent message saying that the spirit can be imprisoned, but it cannot be broken.

In Nafha Prison, where everything is supposed to be subject to the system, a weak cat taught them an unforgettable lesson: humanity may be small, hungry, and hunted... but it is stubborn and knows how to endure.

Nafha Desert Prison_ 14/10/2025