What is the first day in prison like?

At the prison, I was strip searched with a great deal of respect. I was asked to remove my clothes from only one half of my body at a time – first the top half, then the bottom. I was asked to squat – to make sure no drugs popped out of my bum. That made me chuckle with amusement.

I was led into the remand wing. It’s meant to be for people who are ‘on remand’ (i.e. awaiting trial),  but is also used to house prisoners who have been moved out of their halls due to fighting. In my case, I was to be left her until a space became available in my destination hall.

My first reaction was “Oh shit, this place is like a zoo”. My heart thumped, as if attempting to escape its cage. The hall was busy with people, and one of the first things I noticed was how loud it was. Around the edge of the hall I could see door after door, each one apparently leading to a cell. A metal-barred wall and gate separate this hall from the reception desk, and another, identical hall could be seen on the other side of the reception area beyond a second set or bars.

A group of 5 or 6 track-suited guys in their twenties stood up against the second gate, shouting across at me as I was led in. The staff member who logged my arrival seemed 100% disinterested. I was given no induction of any kind. He asked a few questions for his paperwork including “Do you use drugs?”. When I said “no” he replied “Not yet anyway”. It felt like a punch in the stomach, the realisation that he really didn’t care either way.

He pointed me to my cell, where I met my new cell mate. He struck me instantly as a good guy to share with – smiley, talkative and welcoming.

Looking around my room, I felt disgusted and filled with dread. Every wall was stained with brown drips from head height to the ground. They were also covered in scratches, graffiti, holes, dried toothpaste and jam. Opening the door to our “en-suite” toilet, I almost gagged. The toilet and sink were both brown. Shit was smeared on the walls and all over the toilet flush button. “Right”, I thought, “That’s item number one on tomorrow’s To Do List: Clean shit off walls”. The stench of that room has lodged itself into a part of my brain that I’m sure will remember it forever.

A neighbour came up to our door within a couple of minutes to introduce himself and welcome me to the hall. I was relieved, surprised and slightly suspicious, all at once. He invited me to come to meet his “co-pilot” an offer which I accepted, but not before I had changed out of my suit and into my jeans and t-shirt.

Thankfully, my mood lifted when I went to visit them. I learned that coffee creamer can be used to make cement or a Blu Tack substitute; Daz and water makes a decent air freshener, as does orange peel; everything has a use so don’t throw away plastic bags, cardboard boxes, toothpaste boxes, or even staples. He explained many of the procedures that are key to living a decent lifestyle in here: how to order toiletries and snacks; how to choose your food for the following day; how to sign up for gym sessions or educational courses; and what routine I could expect in terms of door locking times. Half of the inmates seem to have a little business going, sometimes just to earn enough to pay for a week’s snacks. There’s an aerial maker and a hair trimmer. Slightly more comfortable mattresses are swapped for coffee and biscuits and sugar. And, judging by the state of some of the “pinhead-pupil” guys, there’s a fair amount of drug dealing going on too.

I eventually manage to get a warden to tell me where I could find a bucket and mop and gave my toilet room a first going over. Most of the shit is now off the walls so I feel much better – clean home, clear mind and all that.

I was so glad to speak to mum and dad on the phone with my uncle and aunt on the background on speakerphone. I vented about the disgustingness of my room, but was pleased to be able to reassure them that there were plenty of friendly folk here. For my first day in prison I was doing OK.

Eventually, after asking 3 different wardens my mattress arrived- along with a kettle! The mattress is old and warn, plastic-coated and 5cm thick at the edge, though considerably thinner in the middle. When I lie on my side I can feel the metal base of the bunk-bed. My pillow is 3 and a bit centimeters thick, made of foam.

I am now sitting up in bed, enjoying my first cup of jail tea, and feeling calm and strangely optimistic. I just hope my transfer from the remand hall to my final destination happens sooner rather than later…