This is the ninth installment in “Exploring Integrity: Reviewing Wrongful Conviction Remedies,” a series examining the impact of conviction integrity units on the American judicial system’s rate of wrongful conviction. Presented by the O’Brien Fellowship in Public Service Journalism, the investigation is supported by Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Over his four decades in a Michigan prison, Temujin Kensu has been no stranger to strife with the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC).
From the date of his 1987 conviction in the fatal shooting of Scott Macklem, Kensu’s name has remained one of the country’s most recognized in debates about wrongful conviction. Following a trial that saw nine witnesses say he was 400 miles from the crime scene when Macklem was murdered, Kensu’s key supporters have remained: current and former Michigan Supreme Court justices, a former FBI agent, a retired police detective, state and federal lawmakers, and multiple private investigators.
As he continues to maintain his innocence multiple petitions for a new trial or state intervention have been denied, including by the state conviction integrity unit, Attorney General Dana Nessel, and Gov. Gretchen Whitmer. Meanwhile, the push for freedom has become more urgent in recent years, due to mounting health issues, as the martial artist says he’s literally fighting for his life in the MDOC.
“They’re actually punishing me more as I’ve gotten worse, but I haven’t been accused of any misconduct related to anything medical,” he says.
Kensu’s latest MRI showed a case of degenerative joint disease so severe that his shoulders, ankles, and knees will have to be completely rebuilt, he says.
But rather than helping him seek necessary medical attention, the 62-year-old inmate says, MDOC is taking away the knee braces, ankle sleeves, and special shoes he relies on.
And that’s not all.
In a recent phone interview from the Macomb Correctional Facility, Kensu said he has also seen his medications cut substantially in recent years. What used to be 23 prescriptions have been reduced to asthma medication and nasal spray. He is no longer receiving chemotherapy for severe combined immunodeficiency, nor visits to a medical specialist.
When asked for comment on Kensu’s medical status a MDOC public information officer said the department is unable to provide public information about medical care unless a prisoner has completed a “release” form.
Michigan’s conviction integrity unit rejected Kensu’s appeal for exoneration, finding that exculpatory testimony not offered at the original trial didn’t meet the standard of new evidence.
“A review of Mr. Kensu’s case was completed by the Michigan Department of Attorney General, and his counsel was so notified in May of 2022,” Attorney General press secretary Danny Wimmer said in an email. “The status of this case remains unchanged.”
Now, Kensu says, while his health continues to deteriorate without sufficient medication, he has to wait on Gov. Whitmer to act — though neither he nor his wife are convinced she will be inclined to help him.
“It’s heartbreaking, and the governor knows the truth,” says Paula Kensu. “When you’re in prison for a crime you didn’t commit, that should be something that our governor and leaders care about, and he’s a political prisoner.”
For those who are wrongfully convicted, Paula says, any shot at a public hearing comes through the clemency process and requires the incarcerated individual to “show remorse for the crime” to get parole.
The governor then relies on the recommendation made by the parole board. But that requirement doesn’t work for those who didn’t commit a crime, she says: Since Kensu maintains he wasn’t the one who killed Macklem, he can’t feel remorse for the act.
“That process right there is completely broken,” Paula says. “The conviction integrity unit should be made up of a neutral panel who looks at the actual evidence and decides whether the case has integrity.”
Paula adds that the Michigan attorney general — the top prosecutor in the state — should not have the final say in wrongful conviction matters, calling it a “conflict of interest.”
As time passes, Kensu is losing friends and supporters to death and illness, while trapped behind bars. But in prison he’s still fighting for the rights of his fellow prisoners, he says, and for himself.
He filed a new clemency, backed by Whitmer’s former law firm, Dickinson Wright, ironically, where the governor began her legal career as an associate in 1998. Years later, Whitmer returned to the firm from 2015 to 2016. Dickinson Wright attorney Ryan Shannon, who submitted the 2020 clemency petition on Kensu’s behalf, declined to comment about the governor’s response.
Kensu is exercising other avenues toward freedom, including the University of Michigan’s Innocence Project, a nonprofit legal organization that works to exonerate the wrongly convicted through various forms of post-conviction relief.
Kensu says Michigan’s parole board is notorious for not setting “lifers” — or those serving life in prison, like himself — free. He said the next step to potential release will be to trigger a social media campaign big enough that the governor can’t avoid.
“We’ve had students from around the country writing letters, college courses, high school kids. They teach about my class in Berlin University in Germany,” he says. “But none of those have been big enough to make her say, ‘I can’t ignore this anymore.’”
So, despite decades of denial for Kensu, he, his wife, and core supporters will continue to fight for what they believe is the correct outcome.
But it won’t come easy for the man whose health is worsening every day behind bars.
“The difference between prisoners and any other group of people,” Paula says, “is that nobody cares about the prisoners.”
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