December 29, 2024 • 13 mins
As a result of this morning's stabbings and slashings, the inmates are armed to the teeth with blades to protect themselves. Life in here is as fantastical as it is scary.
During the three and a half years I was in prison I wrote over a million words by hand. Tales From The Jails is a contemporaneous account of my life, and attempts to thrive rather than merely survive, whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed. The events have not.
This is a Jekyll & Pride production in association with Keyhole Productions.
Producer: Trevessa Newton
Director: Kris McDonald
Title Music taken from The Confession, on the album Crimes Against Poetry (written and performed by The Shadow Poet, produced by Lance Thomas)
Copyright Jekyll & Pride Ltd 2024
@jekyllandpride2023
@theshadowpoettsp
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode fourteen.
(00:24):
Ringside For The Action.
I started the Listeners' Coursetoday.
It's run by the Samaritans inprisons.
(00:45):
Selected inmates are trained toprovide emotional support to
prisoners who are struggling,maybe self harming, or worse,
suicidal.
The morning began surprisinglyeventful.
Firstly, we were informed thatthe training session was
cancelled.
As I've stated many times,expect the unexpected at any
(01:06):
moment.
Every day begins with a bad backand a rubbish night's sleep.
But as usual, I'm up at 7.
30, three mugs of strong coffee,half an hour of the news and
half an hour of reading.
Presently, I'm reading The Powerof Now by Tolle, and waiting for
the melodious sound of the keyin the door and the opportunity
to make the morning love call toT.
(01:29):
But this morning, there wereother plans in store for me.
Before I could take three stepsforward, I was doorstepped by an
officer whom I knew from workand was informed I was to give a
urine sample, aka a drugs test.
I've already done a couple aspart of my role in reception.
One of the lads said I'll getthem the most because I'm nailed
(01:51):
on to pass, and the test is goodfor figures.
I asked Mr.
R, could I make a quick twominute call to the missus?
He was cool, but my instinctsfelt as though he was a little
edgier than normal.
However, I sensed the problemwasn't with me.
I had nothing to worry about,and I stuck to my two minute
(02:11):
love call.
But when I returned to Mr.
R, he was stood in the doorwayof another pad and waiting for
another prisoner.
I knew who occupied the cell,and by the look on Mr.
R's face, drama was on the way.
The lad had a reputation, and heand Mr.
(02:32):
R knew he was probably failing apiss test.
I was ringside, less than fivemeters away from the action, and
observed the events unfold.
The kid, who was on remand fordrugs offences and gang wars,
had already been caught up in aserious incident a week ago.
He was involved in a fracas thatwas more of a slashing incident
(02:53):
in the gym toilets and rumorswere flying around that
reprisals were already happeningoutside as a result.
The kid was giving Mr.
R.
grief from inside his cell,reluctant it would appear to do
a drugs test.
Suddenly, he bolts out of hiscell and across the wing and
into another pad.
(03:13):
Now Mr.
R.
is a laid back officer, but notstupid.
He's been tethered to those keysfor at least twenty years.
He knew what was coming down thetrack the moment he was handed
our names on the list, such arethe years of experience he owns.
Next thing, the kid reappearsplaying with his groin, and
(03:35):
there was a wet patch.
Mr.
R had the look about him thatsaid, really?
It looked obvious andridiculous, even to a blind
person.
Before you know it, Mr.
R is holding a rubber glove thatwas obviously filled with piss.
One of the tricks to avoiddetection is to use a sample
(03:57):
collected from an inmate whowill pass, and carry it in a
rubber glove which is prickedopen when one has to do the
deed.
The drama unfolded like a comedysketch, and the more it did, the
more likely it was going to getout of hand.
The kid's attempt to outwit atest were calamitous and we were
(04:17):
both still being taken for adrugs test.
I kept silent, walked a fewsteps behind.
After all, it was great contentunravelling before me.
I was not to be disappointed.
The three of us made our waythrough the education wing, and
then onto the battlefield whichis G wing.
(04:40):
This is Dali surreal, butpainted with only black and
bleak on its palette.
Suddenly, B Wing didn't seem sobad.
This is where and when the kidbecame agitated, and then bolted
away like a greyhound out of thetraps.
Within seconds, he was up aflight of stairs and attacking
(05:01):
another prisoner.
Action and mayhem was explodingbefore me.
I found myself ringside asguards flung themselves across
landings, stairs and lads, andtried their best to suffocate
what was potentially a fatalincident for someone.
Thankfully, it was over beforeit got ugly.
(05:23):
But the wing in the prison wentinto lockdown as a result.
Somehow, I ended up looking andfeeling like a lost soul, stood
there on the wing by myself.
When the kid reappeared, he wascuffed and heading down to the
block.
Ironically, it's another badgeof honour, and the lads
(05:45):
vocalised their support for himthrough the cell doors in true
Scouse form.
Ten minutes later, I foundmyself in the depths of Walton
by myself, contributing a urinesample for the greater cause, on
cue too, to my relief.
The deed was done in seconds.
(06:05):
I've witnessed tough blokes andloud scallies struggle with the
contribution and shrink to asilent embarrassment when they
couldn't pee under pressure.
Or, as Carl likes to put it,they get stage fright.
Mr R dropped me off at work, andthe surprises kept coming.
(06:25):
The Listeners' Course was backon, and the news of the big
event this morning gets spreadthroughout Walton like a forest
fire, and that I was the eyesand ears to it all.
I did drop my favorite line tothe lads.
There is only one truth to bebelieved, and that is the one
that leaves these lips.
(06:46):
They loved it, especially thecalamitous shout.
J.
K.
and Kinder Egg, all said inharmony at the same time, what
does calamitous mean?
I don't mind saying it was abeautiful moment having such a
laugh.
I gave them the full dramaticstreatment too.
Why waste it if you've got it, Ithought.
(07:08):
First time I felt like my oldself in a long time.
The Listeners' Course made megiggle as much as it made me
think.
The lads with me were a propermotley crew and were probably
the best content for a moviescreenplay I've ever
experienced.
From jaw dropping, no, you can'tsay that, to side splitting, no,
(07:31):
you can't say that either.
There was a welcomed butsurprising peace and calm that
we all felt in the chapel.
Can you believe that four oldpeople from the Samaritans were
the best link we had to theoutside world?
But authenticity seemed to glowfrom them like angels, and that
(07:55):
was something I craved andappreciated.
I witnessed many, if not all, ofthe lads wanting to do something
purposeful.
There were genuine moments ofkindness and warmth.
They asked us for words that wemust all abide by.
Mine was confidentiality.
(08:15):
I wanted an atmosphere wherebywe could speak freely and be
ourselves without fear ofreprisals or mudslinging.
No one disagreed.
I was the oldest on the course.
All the lads knew me or of meone way or another, and more
than a couple came over and saidI was made for the role.
(08:37):
I did enjoy this morning.
I felt a strange bonding tookplace.
The harsh reality of prison liferesumed at 11.
40, when I returned to workafter the Samaritans hour, which
did include coffee and biscuits.
The talk was still of themorning's drama and events and
(08:58):
the wind ups that go with theterritory.
Light hearted by the good lads,malicious by the prize prick.
I think from now on, he will beknown as the prize prick but it
will be interesting to see howmany times that description
appears on the page.
However, today was a tale of twohalves.
(09:19):
The second began when theManchester lads arrived back at
about four thirty.
I first saw Benji.
He's the one who everyonedescribes as...
well, I shan't repeat that.
It's of its time and oldfashioned.
I think it's fair to say he's onthe spectrum, possessing
qualities that probably make himsusceptible to being misguided
(09:40):
or manipulated.
The type you instantly like.
Always polite.
Always the friendliest and mostlaid back.
He strolled over to me to tellme the result, although I'd
already heard.
He and Chappie, one of theco-accused, had hung juries and
would have a retrial.
(10:01):
The other two received a guilty,as did H on Friday.
Nineteen days the jury has beenout.
At the beginning of the trial,his hair was short.
Now he sports a sort of Brillopad hair style akin to Paul
Michael Glazier of Starsky andHutch fame.
And it didn't end there.
(10:22):
He also had a pair of Elvissideburns.
He was surprisingly laid back,and as per usual, more
interested in what was on offerfor tea this evening.
I asked him how he felt, and tobe honest he was cool.
Not happy, but at the same timegrateful he hadn't been found
guilty like the others.
(10:44):
As he left to return to thewing, the guilty lads arrived
with the haunted look.
What do you do or say?
Their lives are now changedforever in some surreal way,
just like the victims of thecrime.
The smallest, size fourteen anda half shirt, looks like a boy,
(11:08):
and the hardest looking, whousually has the most cheek and
bravado, well, he is now shrunkto a broken man.
The nurse called him in.
I think they were both offeredsome form of sedation for the
night, and then there's anawkward chat about suicide.
I imagined for a moment that ifI was a qualified Listener I
(11:32):
could be called out to lads justlike this.
The rumours are they're facing25 to 30 years.
How does each feel sat in theircells right now?
The look on their faces was thatof men on death row, at the end
of their lives.
Not men at the beginning.
(11:53):
How do you process suchdevastating news?
The fall from hopes and prayersto the brutal reality of what
faces them...
life as they knew it is over.
On a lighter note, and onceagain overflowing with irony,
one of the lads on a drug trial-I ironed his shirt yesterday- he
(12:15):
only ended up complaining incourt that one of the juries
stunk of cannabis, skunk to beprecise, and after all, it does
have a distinctive smell.
This escalated to the whole jurybeing sent home and warned today
as a result.
Apparently, the rumours are thatjury members were smoking it
(12:36):
outside the court building.
The mind boggles that a jury hasto be warned, although no one
was questioned and no oneremoved, when they are judging
on a drugs trial.
Makes you wonder.
Another alarming and ironicannouncement is, it has been
(12:57):
said, as a result of thismorning's stabbings and
slashings, that inmates arearmed to the teeth with blades
to protect themselves.
Life in here is as fantasticalas it is scary.
I listen to the radio.
Raiders of the Lost Ark isplaying and I am reminded of T's
(13:17):
words.
Adventure lies in wait for mearound every corner.
It's a cross between a zoo andan asylum and surreal verging on
mass psychosis.
Funeral FM is playing inside ourcell, as the lunatics terrorise
each other, out on the wing.
(13:37):
The content is incredible.
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode fourteen.
(00:24):
Ringside For The Action.
I started the Listeners' Coursetoday.
It's run by the Samaritans inprisons.
(00:45):
Selected inmates are trained toprovide emotional support to
prisoners who are struggling,maybe self harming, or worse,
suicidal.
The morning began surprisinglyeventful.
Firstly, we were informed thatthe training session was
cancelled.
As I've stated many times,expect the unexpected at any
(01:06):
moment.
Every day begins with a bad backand a rubbish night's sleep.
But as usual, I'm up at 7.
30, three mugs of strong coffee,half an hour of the news and
half an hour of reading.
Presently, I'm reading The Powerof Now by Tolle, and waiting for
the melodious sound of the keyin the door and the opportunity
to make the morning love call toT.
(01:29):
But this morning, there wereother plans in store for me.
Before I could take three stepsforward, I was doorstepped by an
officer whom I knew from workand was informed I was to give a
urine sample, aka a drugs test.
I've already done a couple aspart of my role in reception.
One of the lads said I'll getthem the most because I'm nailed
(01:51):
on to pass, and the test is goodfor figures.
I asked Mr.
R, could I make a quick twominute call to the missus?
He was cool, but my instinctsfelt as though he was a little
edgier than normal.
However, I sensed the problemwasn't with me.
I had nothing to worry about,and I stuck to my two minute
(02:11):
love call.
But when I returned to Mr.
R, he was stood in the doorwayof another pad and waiting for
another prisoner.
I knew who occupied the cell,and by the look on Mr.
R's face, drama was on the way.
The lad had a reputation, and heand Mr.
(02:32):
R knew he was probably failing apiss test.
I was ringside, less than fivemeters away from the action, and
observed the events unfold.
The kid, who was on remand fordrugs offences and gang wars,
had already been caught up in aserious incident a week ago.
He was involved in a fracas thatwas more of a slashing incident
(02:53):
in the gym toilets and rumorswere flying around that
reprisals were already happeningoutside as a result.
The kid was giving Mr.
R.
grief from inside his cell,reluctant it would appear to do
a drugs test.
Suddenly, he bolts out of hiscell and across the wing and
into another pad.
(03:13):
Now Mr.
R.
is a laid back officer, but notstupid.
He's been tethered to those keysfor at least twenty years.
He knew what was coming down thetrack the moment he was handed
our names on the list, such arethe years of experience he owns.
Next thing, the kid reappearsplaying with his groin, and
(03:35):
there was a wet patch.
Mr.
R had the look about him thatsaid, really?
It looked obvious andridiculous, even to a blind
person.
Before you know it, Mr.
R is holding a rubber glove thatwas obviously filled with piss.
One of the tricks to avoiddetection is to use a sample
(03:57):
collected from an inmate whowill pass, and carry it in a
rubber glove which is prickedopen when one has to do the
deed.
The drama unfolded like a comedysketch, and the more it did, the
more likely it was going to getout of hand.
The kid's attempt to outwit atest were calamitous and we were
(04:17):
both still being taken for adrugs test.
I kept silent, walked a fewsteps behind.
After all, it was great contentunravelling before me.
I was not to be disappointed.
The three of us made our waythrough the education wing, and
then onto the battlefield whichis G wing.
(04:40):
This is Dali surreal, butpainted with only black and
bleak on its palette.
Suddenly, B Wing didn't seem sobad.
This is where and when the kidbecame agitated, and then bolted
away like a greyhound out of thetraps.
Within seconds, he was up aflight of stairs and attacking
(05:01):
another prisoner.
Action and mayhem was explodingbefore me.
I found myself ringside asguards flung themselves across
landings, stairs and lads, andtried their best to suffocate
what was potentially a fatalincident for someone.
Thankfully, it was over beforeit got ugly.
(05:23):
But the wing in the prison wentinto lockdown as a result.
Somehow, I ended up looking andfeeling like a lost soul, stood
there on the wing by myself.
When the kid reappeared, he wascuffed and heading down to the
block.
Ironically, it's another badgeof honour, and the lads
(05:45):
vocalised their support for himthrough the cell doors in true
Scouse form.
Ten minutes later, I foundmyself in the depths of Walton
by myself, contributing a urinesample for the greater cause, on
cue too, to my relief.
The deed was done in seconds.
(06:05):
I've witnessed tough blokes andloud scallies struggle with the
contribution and shrink to asilent embarrassment when they
couldn't pee under pressure.
Or, as Carl likes to put it,they get stage fright.
Mr R dropped me off at work, andthe surprises kept coming.
(06:25):
The Listeners' Course was backon, and the news of the big
event this morning gets spreadthroughout Walton like a forest
fire, and that I was the eyesand ears to it all.
I did drop my favorite line tothe lads.
There is only one truth to bebelieved, and that is the one
that leaves these lips.
(06:46):
They loved it, especially thecalamitous shout.
J.
K.
and Kinder Egg, all said inharmony at the same time, what
does calamitous mean?
I don't mind saying it was abeautiful moment having such a
laugh.
I gave them the full dramaticstreatment too.
Why waste it if you've got it, Ithought.
(07:08):
First time I felt like my oldself in a long time.
The Listeners' Course made megiggle as much as it made me
think.
The lads with me were a propermotley crew and were probably
the best content for a moviescreenplay I've ever
experienced.
From jaw dropping, no, you can'tsay that, to side splitting, no,
(07:31):
you can't say that either.
There was a welcomed butsurprising peace and calm that
we all felt in the chapel.
Can you believe that four oldpeople from the Samaritans were
the best link we had to theoutside world?
But authenticity seemed to glowfrom them like angels, and that
(07:55):
was something I craved andappreciated.
I witnessed many, if not all, ofthe lads wanting to do something
purposeful.
There were genuine moments ofkindness and warmth.
They asked us for words that wemust all abide by.
Mine was confidentiality.
(08:15):
I wanted an atmosphere wherebywe could speak freely and be
ourselves without fear ofreprisals or mudslinging.
No one disagreed.
I was the oldest on the course.
All the lads knew me or of meone way or another, and more
than a couple came over and saidI was made for the role.
(08:37):
I did enjoy this morning.
I felt a strange bonding tookplace.
The harsh reality of prison liferesumed at 11.
40, when I returned to workafter the Samaritans hour, which
did include coffee and biscuits.
The talk was still of themorning's drama and events and
(08:58):
the wind ups that go with theterritory.
Light hearted by the good lads,malicious by the prize prick.
I think from now on, he will beknown as the prize prick but it
will be interesting to see howmany times that description
appears on the page.
However, today was a tale of twohalves.
(09:19):
The second began when theManchester lads arrived back at
about four thirty.
I first saw Benji.
He's the one who everyonedescribes as...
well, I shan't repeat that.
It's of its time and oldfashioned.
I think it's fair to say he's onthe spectrum, possessing
qualities that probably make himsusceptible to being misguided
(09:40):
or manipulated.
The type you instantly like.
Always polite.
Always the friendliest and mostlaid back.
He strolled over to me to tellme the result, although I'd
already heard.
He and Chappie, one of theco-accused, had hung juries and
would have a retrial.
(10:01):
The other two received a guilty,as did H on Friday.
Nineteen days the jury has beenout.
At the beginning of the trial,his hair was short.
Now he sports a sort of Brillopad hair style akin to Paul
Michael Glazier of Starsky andHutch fame.
And it didn't end there.
(10:22):
He also had a pair of Elvissideburns.
He was surprisingly laid back,and as per usual, more
interested in what was on offerfor tea this evening.
I asked him how he felt, and tobe honest he was cool.
Not happy, but at the same timegrateful he hadn't been found
guilty like the others.
(10:44):
As he left to return to thewing, the guilty lads arrived
with the haunted look.
What do you do or say?
Their lives are now changedforever in some surreal way,
just like the victims of thecrime.
The smallest, size fourteen anda half shirt, looks like a boy,
(11:08):
and the hardest looking, whousually has the most cheek and
bravado, well, he is now shrunkto a broken man.
The nurse called him in.
I think they were both offeredsome form of sedation for the
night, and then there's anawkward chat about suicide.
I imagined for a moment that ifI was a qualified Listener I
(11:32):
could be called out to lads justlike this.
The rumours are they're facing25 to 30 years.
How does each feel sat in theircells right now?
The look on their faces was thatof men on death row, at the end
of their lives.
Not men at the beginning.
(11:53):
How do you process suchdevastating news?
The fall from hopes and prayersto the brutal reality of what
faces them...
life as they knew it is over.
On a lighter note, and onceagain overflowing with irony,
one of the lads on a drug trial-I ironed his shirt yesterday- he
(12:15):
only ended up complaining incourt that one of the juries
stunk of cannabis, skunk to beprecise, and after all, it does
have a distinctive smell.
This escalated to the whole jurybeing sent home and warned today
as a result.
Apparently, the rumours are thatjury members were smoking it
(12:36):
outside the court building.
The mind boggles that a jury hasto be warned, although no one
was questioned and no oneremoved, when they are judging
on a drugs trial.
Makes you wonder.
Another alarming and ironicannouncement is, it has been
(12:57):
said, as a result of thismorning's stabbings and
slashings, that inmates arearmed to the teeth with blades
to protect themselves.
Life in here is as fantasticalas it is scary.
I listen to the radio.
Raiders of the Lost Ark isplaying and I am reminded of T's
(13:17):
words.
Adventure lies in wait for mearound every corner.
It's a cross between a zoo andan asylum and surreal verging on
mass psychosis.
Funeral FM is playing inside ourcell, as the lunatics terrorise
each other, out on the wing.
(13:37):
The content is incredible.
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