Authors: Vicky Pryce
Last night everyone watched the results of the
elections
for the twenty-seven English county councils and seven unitary authorities, as well as those in Anglesey. In all, about 2,300 seats were being fought and there was a lot of discussion in our room about the fact that UKIP won over 140 of the seats, averaging some 25 per cent of the vote in the wards where it was standing. The issue for most of the women there was not the attitude towards Europe but whether this would force a toughening up of immigration rules – there were foreign girls in ESP who had served a long time, were just about to start rehabilitating
themselves
and getting jobs on the outside but their main fear was that they might just get shipped back to their home country on release, which they didn’t want. It didn’t look like anyone was giving them the type of information and support that would help them plan ahead and ease these concerns.
There was much less discussion and concern about voting rights for prisoners, which surprised me as there had been quite a lot of publicity about these issues. The law in the UK at the moment says that only prisoners on remand are entitled to vote, although the European Court of Human Rights ruled in 2005 that a blanket ban for convicted prisoners was unlawful. Since then, whether or not the UK should ignore the court’s ruling has been the subject of much heated debate in Parliament. The delay attracted criticism from the Council of Europe in December 2012, who formally reminded the UK government of its obligation to
implement the court’s decisions and asked the UK to continue its role as a leader in protecting human rights. Frankly a lot of that debate had passed most of the women by. But it remained a live issue throughout my time in ESP and following release. Indeed six weeks later, when I was released on a tag and at home watching TV, it was reported that Nick Gibb, the Conservative chair of the Draft Voting Eligibility (Prisoners) Bill, had said that Parliament will never back votes for all prisoners, despite the court’s ruling.
There are three options for Parliament to consider: allowing convicted prisoners serving up to six months to vote, extending it to all serving up to four years, or keeping the blanket ban as is. Juliet Lyon, director of the Prison Reform Trust, has been quoted as saying that the only prisoners who shouldn’t be allowed to vote are those who have been convicted for electoral fraud but also said that in reality there wasn’t very much evidence of prisoners really wanting to vote. That very much agreed with my own observation but I fear this was more that they felt removed from society and that they didn’t really belong. I agree with Juliet Lyon’s other comment that in fact just taking that right away further separated the prisoners from society and made reintegration more difficult.
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Indeed, there seems to be wider acceptance of this point and during the debates on the issue the Lib Dem MP Lorely Burt, a former prison governor herself, said that the right to vote ought to be linked to rehabilitation.
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Interestingly Dr Peter Selby, former Bishop to HM Prisons and now president of the National Council for Independent Monitoring Boards for Prisons, said in written evidence submitted to the political and constitutional reform committee that
‘denying convicted prisoners the right to vote serves no purpose of deterrence or reform. What it does is to state in the clearest terms society’s belief that once convicted you are a non-person, one who should have no say in how our society is to develop, whose opinion is to count for nothing. It is making someone an “outlaw”, and as such has no place in expressing a civilised attitude towards those in prison.’
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For what it’s worth, in France judges can add a penalty of suspension of civic rights to a prison sentence, which seems to keep the ECHR happy. As the debate heats up over a possible Brexit (Britain leaving the EU), it is interesting that Switzerland has given voting rights to prisoners for decades without any outcry from the public.
It is my daughter’s birthday today. When I rang her she confirmed that she had received the two cards I sent – one made by me using cut-outs from discarded cards and stickers provided by the wonderful officer Mrs Beck. The card caused a lot of amusement as I am not at all artistic and the card turned out looking pretty weird, but she loved it, or so she said. Maybe it is true what they say, that it is the thought that counts, but I had been really pleased with myself. The other was a very nice, more conventional birthday card very sweetly brought back from the outside for me by one of my fellow residents during her day out. Anyone who has not been to prison can simply not imagine how important these types of communication were for us. We absolutely depended on letters getting there on time and birthdays are so important, we had to get it right. Using two stamps to send two cards as
insurance, hoping that at least one would get there was, we all felt, worth it. They both in the event made it. Happy mummy, happy daughter, thank you Post Office.
Tricia, who also works for Working Chance during the week, asked me to endorse a proposal she was putting together to raise some £25,000 to fund a project for going into Holloway and teaching young offenders employability skills. I spent the weekend reading the terms of reference, loved it and wrote a note of support. I typed it in the IT room and printed it twice, and Tricia took it with her the following day. She had already made it to a shortlist of three after presenting to a group of possible investors who are part of what is known as the ‘Funding Network’. They had to then put a few more things together and go and present again to see if they would get the final funding. After my release I found out from Jocelyn Hillman, the head of Working Chance, that they did. Jocelyn had taken two of ESP’s young residents, May and Sam, to the final presentation. Both of them had received an indeterminate public protection sentence when they were just sixteen and they did a splendid job presenting the case. Real heroes. I hope they do well now that they have been released. When I had left, Sam was finishing an Access course for which she was getting external study leave, and was trying to decide where she should do her degree in
psychology
; like any other sixth-former she was finishing her exams and waiting anxiously for her results and final confirmation of offers.
In the afternoon I was visited by my great friends Philip and Stephanie Maltman, and my daughter and
grandson. Philip, a painter, has been painting me a new card every week and I now have a marvellous collection which I intend to frame in a big tableau, naming it ‘The Prison Cards’. I noticed that his colours were becoming richer and more rousing as the date of my release neared – although I may have just imagined it. Philip also manages the Dulwich independent bookshop, which seems to be getting all sorts of prizes, and I have benefited greatly from his choice of books, which have been coming to ESP on a very regular basis. Today, however, it’s my turn to give him books: I have packed most of my papers and books to send home early and ease the pressure on my last day. The officers who look after the visitors helped me pack them and have them neatly labelled and put aside for my friends to collect at the end of the visit. It looked really funny seeing them cart five black prison rubbish bags through the visitors’ car park home with them. (These bags still surround me in my study, mostly unopened. They have acquired sentimental value.)
As it is Greek Easter I had service with the chaplain after my visitors had left and then after dinner I settled down to watch the football. We beat Man United 1–0. Man U had many chances but Chelsea played better and should have been given a penalty, too. It was good to see Lampard playing throughout. Now, of course, Mourinho is sure to come back.
I rather got on with Leyla, a blonde, fair girl of Turkish-Cypriot origin. She had become an expert hairdresser and had offered a number of times to cut and colour my hair but we could never find the right time.
When I walked into Butler’s this afternoon carrying food trays, she asked me a favour and I quickly obliged. She wanted her boyfriend to come and see her but was worried about how she would persuade him. It turned out he was Greek. She wanted to tell him straight, come to see me, but in perfect Greek. So I took her through the words ‘come to see me’ in Greek. I didn’t think it was that hard. In fact, it is really easy: ‘ella na me this’. And yet it took an hour and a half of practising, me saying the four words again and again, with everyone joining in to get it right. In the end it worked and he did come the following weekend.
I met with the HDC board today including the same lady I had met at my risk-assessment when I had first arrived. This was a less officious affair with Dee, my probation officer, Mo, from education, senior officer Mr Brown and my personal officer, Miss Callaghan, in attendance. Everything seemed to be going well though we are still awaiting the checks on the
property
from the local authority. They don’t envisage any problems, however, and we’re all set for a Monday release date after the governor has signed the
application
and the arrangements for my curfew have been agreed. The usual times are 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. but they can be changed if there is a good reason, such as work hours that can’t be accommodated within that
time-frame
. The shortest a curfew can be is nine hours.
Conditions for the curfew vary depending on the service provider, the instructions of probation and the governor who signs the HDC licence. The
security
company providers come to fix the tag on day one of the HDC date (any time between 3 p.m. and
midnight). Some people get use of the garden, others are just allowed from the front door to the back door, even if they smoke – one of the residents was
apparently
told that despite the fact they had children in the house they should just open the back door, stand just on the inside smoking and blow out. One of my friends, who was leaving after me, heard that this is what she was also going to get, which for her was tough as she had to run a farm with her husband. She described to me how she would have to stand with one foot in and the rest of her body leaning out for hours at a time trying to scare preying birds and foxes away from their chickens until her husband came home. She asked if she could complain about this just before she was due to leave ESP and was told that yes, she could, but that she would have to stay in prison beyond her HDC date while the complaint was being investigated. Not surprisingly she chose to let it go.
I said I was very pleased with the help I had received and that my stay in ESP had taught me a lot. They all wished me luck for the future.
I collected my licence today and discussed the final curfew restrictions, which seem reasonable. I agreed that I would ring if I encountered any problems. As it happens I never did; everything worked well and
efficiently
though I have heard from other ex-offenders that they were contacted by the security firm on a number of occasions as their monitor was showing them not to be there. In the case of one woman I know, her monitor continued to play up and after a few such mishaps she complained and they came and changed it. The bad news was they turned up just
before midnight to replace it, waking everyone up. On another occasion I was told by a politician who had gone to prison for a few months that while on tag the security company accused them of having run away when they were in fact at that time with their
probation
officer. I am sure there are lots of examples when things go wrong and ESP was sensible to warn us in advance and offer help if it were needed.
Spoke today to a lovely new girl in the Butler’s Room, twenty-five years old, quiet, intelligent-looking, who had been working in the kitchens since arriving from a closed prison a few weeks earlier. She told me how she had gone to a club and had been searched. She had a few grams of cocaine on her – she says she had no intention of selling them but said to the police that she intended it for her use and that of her friends. And that did it for her.
She was on bail for a whole year and when it came to put in a plea she was again advised to plead guilty on the grounds that she would get a suspended sentence – well, she didn’t and the judge said she had to go to prison because drugs are such a bad thing. She is convinced that if her case had been heard in a court other than the one in the sleepy town where the court hearing and sentencing took place she would have been let off. And for an evening’s outing that went wrong her career has been ruined. Clearly she shouldn’t have been carrying any drugs. But she felt she had learned nothing in prison; she was already well educated and when she got out she would have to start all over again.
Another girl with her, also twenty-five, was in for
a similar reason but for slightly longer. In her case, although it was a similar story, she had a few more grams of cocaine on her but pleaded not guilty as the charge was for possession and supplying. The second part of the charge was not true, she claimed, so she pleaded not guilty but in her view it was difficult for the jury to say anything other than guilty as she certainly was of the first part of the charge. She felt true anger at the system as she insists she had no intention of sharing or selling. In both cases they had made a silly mistake but you wonder how many other girls do a similar thing every night and just don’t get caught.
My last healthcare check and my third and last hepatitis B injection. I had a nice chat with the nurse. My weight has stayed down, amazingly; I will leave prison 4 pounds lighter than when I entered. It must be the lack of alcohol; since I am getting the taste for puddings there may be something to be said for
selling
a diet book that is very simple and easy to follow. I might call it the prison diet: keep off booze and eat as much as you can get your hands on, three meals a day, nothing in between (throw those biscuits away) and as much pudding as you can stomach. Crucially you must remain active through the day and avoid slumping in front of the TV watching mindless soaps. That should guarantee staying skinny forever.