By Tania Quintero The first mortal victim of the Group of the 75 had just turned 50 years old, was black and always lived in P?aga, one of the humbler towns in Havana. Miguel Vald?Tamayo was born in Havana on December 20, 1956 and passed away in his native city on January 11, 2007. He worked in television, and was married to Barbarian Elisa Collazo. He was founder and president of the Movement of Brothers for Dignity and member of the Assembly to Promote Civil Society in Cuba. Shortly before his detention in March of 2003, he had survived two heart attacks. In the month of April, he was condemned to 15 years of imprisonment and sent to the Kilo 8 Prison - 533 kilometers east of the capital. Fourteen months later, on June 4, 2004, he was released under an extra penal license, due to his serious health problems. Vald?Tamayo suffered from heart problems and had to be hospitalized four times. The last time, he remained for 21 days in the intensive care unit of the hospital for inmates of the Combinado del Este Prison, in Havana, where they transferred him thanks to the continuous requests of his wife. Prison after imprisonment One week after Tamayo’s release, on June 11, 2004, a woman named Eva, from the governmental Federation of Cuban Women, carried out an act of repudiation in front of his home. She shouted worm and mercenary of the U.S. government, and warned him: they would not allow him to live there. Hardly a month after this incident, on July 3, 2004, another sinister character from the neighborhood, known as “the Coyote,” entered Miguel’s backyard, and began to insult him with obscene words in front of the window where he was with his wife. Miguel stood at the window and replied, “I am under conditional freedom, and am sick, and do not wish to have problems with anybody. Upon hearing these words, the aggressor looked for a sharpened machete and brandishing it he said, I do not believe in tough guys from prison.” Thanks to the intervention of his wife, father-in-law and several neighbors the incident did not end in bloodshed. Miguel and Barbara decided to move to another home within the same town: San Agust?Street, no. 691, between San Miguel and Gustavo, P?aga, Arroyo Naranjo. But the provocations did not stop. In October, two months before dying, he was detained. Previously, Vald?Tamayo had made Cuban regime responsible for anything that could happen to him and indicated that all the harassment towards him was orquestrated by Cuban State Security. During the fourteen months that Miguel remained in the Kilo 8 Prison he did not stop denouncing the beatings and continuous human rights violations. In a letter written to his wife, he says: they continue violating our personal correspondence, we do not get letters from our relatives, they lose them, they disappear or they withhold them. The few letters we are allowed to receive are already opened. In another letter he speaks of the threats that political prisoners are given by a band of common prisoners that follow orders of prison authorities in exchange for personal benefits. He also narrates the suicide attempts and auto-aggressions of prisoners due to bad treatment and inhumane conditions in the prisons. My way is straight and firm On February 19, 2004, Miguel Vald?Tamayo informed the public that he had been unable to seen his wife for three months, and when she went to visit, she was turned away and had to return home, which was over 500 km away. On February 20th, Barbara was informed that Miguel had been admitted onto the Amalia Simoni provincial hospital. She did not think twice, and returned to see her husband. The trip was a true odyssey: due to transportation difficulties, she took 24 hours. Finally, on a Saturday night she arrived at Camag? and was in the hospital lobby by dawn on Sunday. After much pleading, a guard granted her ten minutes with her husband. When she entered, she immediately saw him lying on bed number 33. He looked very thin. He is of black complexion and was too pale. He said to me that heart was not working properly, and they did were not giving him the treatment necessary for his condition. That was all we could speak, because just a few minutes later a military official came to look for me. I do not know which is worse, the prison cell or the hospital room. Miguel always detailed his life in the prison to his wife: The medicines that you sent me have not been given to me. They do not take my blood pressure. I live with seven other prisoners in a cell that is six by three meters wide, adjacent to a bathroom and washroom. The television set is located in a hall where 88 people meet, and the disputes are repeated, especially if the baseball game and the soap opera are on at the same time. I have only received religious attention once. They lie to the priest, and tell him that we do not want his presence, and they tell us that the priest does not want to visit us. There is a single telephone for 600 inmates. The daily food is boiled maize flour, mashed potatoes with unknown vegetables, bland soups, and when there are inspections in the prison, they give us meat in extremely small rations. In one of his letters, he finished with a declaration of principles: My way is straight and firm, until Cuba is free. Long live human rights!. Over a year ago, Vald?Tamayo and his wife had received a visa to travel as political refugees to Holland and the United States. But Cuban authorities did not grant them permission to exit to either country. If he had received adequate treatment in either Europe or the United States, Miguel Vald?Tamayo might still be alive today. Rest in peace, Miguel!