Nothing in, Nothing out, No favours

“I wish I could knock down this building and build something more imaginative; a place that aimed to heal rather than merely contain people; where trusting and trustworthiness were nurtured; where the deprivation was not so extreme that people had to become ‘manipulative’ to meet their basic needs; where security were able to discriminate between people who are and aren’t genuinely dangerous, instead of jadedly assuming that everyone is a scorpion in waiting. But the building still stands.”

The Life inside – A  Memoir of Prison, Family and Learning to be Free by Andy West

All through the prison, depending on where you find yourself (the recovery wing, the chapel, the yards, security, the gym medical or education), sayings and warnings are painted and pinned up on the walls:

• • • ‘Lock it, Prove it!’  
    • ‘If it isn’t written down, it didn’t happen.’ 
    • ‘One drink is too many, a thousand’s not enough.’
    • ‘Hand sanitiser is dangerous, do not drink.’
    •  ‘The chapel is closed for refurbishments, but God is available 24-7 to hear your prayers.’
    • ‘Feral cats, do not feed!’
    • ‘✋🏻 STOP, THINK, don’t blur the lines!’
    • ‘Are you sick and tired of feeling sick and tired?’

But the most important one is … ‘Nothing in, Nothing out, No Favours’!

On 14/08/23 I committed my first prison violation …

It was an ordinary Monday morning. I placed my belongings in the tray, and watched them disappear into the scanner like I’d done hundreds of times before.

You’ve all experienced that moment in airport security, right?

Where the scanner stops and the officer motions for a colleague to come over, and together they scrutinise the inscrutable heat patterns on the screen.

That morning it took me about 30 seconds to realise that my bag was the one holding up the queue.

That’s when the sickening feeling started. I realised right away that I’d mistakenly left my Apple AirPods in my bag – NIGHTMARE! It was the 8am ‘rush hour’ and in front of colleagues and visitors, I was called over to face the music. The ‘music’ involved a bit of a grilling, a handover of my prison ID and the infamous evidence bag you see in the photo above. 

I was lucky this time.

It was my first misdemeanour. The first mark against my name. Apart from my pride, the damage was not too great and Officer OWUSO* (*names and details changed for my safety ;)) allowed me to pick up the offending object on exiting later in the day.

Bringing contraband into prisons is a thing. A BIG THING. A BAD THING.

Drugs get in. Mobile phones get in. Tobacco gets in. Improvised weapons get in.

The prison I work in has a Body Orifice Security Scanner or BOSS chair. It’s used most often when prisoners arrive at reception post-sentencing. You’ll only need to sit on the BOSS if there’s reasonable suspicion or intel to motivate a search. The BOSS (and other hand-held detectors) can detect small objects concealed inside the prisoner’s body as long as it has some sort of metal component. Unfortunately, non-metal objects are undetectable by the BOSS. 

Every day the prison publishes incident reports concerning the last 24 hours.

These include: – fights, contraband found during cell searches, purposeful cell flooding and other cell vandalism or arson, bags of contraband thrown over the prison walls or delivered by drone, self-harm or suicide attempts, deaths in custody anywhere in England and Wales, and visitor incidents. 

I’m afraid I can’t tell you all the details because I’ve signed the Official Secrets Act 1911.

What I can tell you is that some visitors are stupid enough to bring cannabis into the prison and try to pass it across to their loved on with a quick hug and a venture down his pants. I can tell you that it’s possible to make a weapon out of a toothbrush. I can tell you that Spice (street name for New Psychoactive Substances) can contain anything you’ll find under the kitchen sink including rat poison, and you cannot build a tolerance to it, therefore taking spice might result in a trip out of the prison to A&E or a mortuary. I can tell you that there exists a range of teeny mobile phones not much bigger than a £2/50p coin and which fit quite easily into parts of the body I won’t mention here. I can tell you that flying a bag of Apple iPhones, drugs and drug paraphernalia by drone into the prison will get you caught on CCTV camera as almost everywhere in London is under surveillance. I can also tell you that tennis balls make great bouncy parcels to throw over prison walls and tying a bag of drugs to an AA battery will help the little delivery pass through the netting draped between prison walls and buildings. 

In all these cases, the perpetrators were caught and/or objects seized and placed in evidence bags.

It’s not worth it, guys!

Some of the stories are so OUT THERE you could script them for a Sylvester Stallone film or Prison Break episode.

The mind boggles.

SMALL PRINT:
P.s. I really was lucky because it turns out that wasn’t the only time I’d mistakenly ‘smuggled’ in my AirPods. It was just the first time I’d been caught. About a week before I found them at the bottom of my bag during the working day. How they got through undetected is still a mystery.
P.p.s. Another stupid thing one female visitor did, was to press the emergency alarm ‘just to see what would happen’ when dining at The Clink restaurant (a public restaurant inside the prison, run by the prisoners). Needless to say, she was escorted out and is banned from ever booking at The Clink again which is a pity as the food is delicious and the charity is worth supporting.
P.p.p.s. Still no update on the house – you’ll know when we know.