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‘If you are going through hell, keep going’

It is graduation season. As our class of 2026 Longford Scholars get a raft of Firsts, Distinctions and 2:1s, our former scholar Rishi shares some advice with them as he reflects on all the obstacles he faced, first in getting into university after prison, and then getting into not just a graduate job, but the graduate job that was right for him. Through rejection, rescinded offers, wrong turns, it was, he writes, his Longford Trust mentor who kept him on track, focussed on the possibilities not the problems.

 It may be a little early to congratulate myself on my success. I still have so much that I want to achieve. I am writing this mainly for those among my esteemed fellow scholars who feel that there is no way out. I entered prison at the age of 20 and was fortunate in many respects. However, just as I had been awarded a scholarship by the Longford Trust, I began to encounter problems that put my university place at King’s College London at risk. These arose from miscommunications between the university and staff at the category C prison in which I was residing when the conditional offer was made.

Still in a category D (open) prison at the time these problems cropped up, I was told that this miscommunication meant I would have to delay starting university by a year. Every day I went to the education coordinator’s office in the prison and asked to use her phone to call King’s, hoping to reach someone who could help resolve the issue. After approximately three weeks of these daily visits, and no sign of resolution, the education coordinator suggested that I should probably give up since she was worried about my wellbeing in the face of such repeated disappointment. I persisted anyway.

‘The Vice-Chancellor himself authorised me to attend’

Eventually, my case was elevated to the university’s senior leadership team, where the Vice-Chancellor himself authorised me to attend on the strength of my exceptional recommendations, grades and persistence. If this story is starting to sound familiar to you—perhaps because you are experiencing something similar yourself—then this article is for you.

We all have something that employers look for in their employees but can seldom find: grit. If you are determined to change the trajectory of your life, for whatever reason, that grit you need to have is a valuable and rare commodity.

We also  have something else for which we should consider ourselves extremely fortunate. The Longford Trust gives us access to the support and sound judgement that, when combined with our grit, can enable us to achieve things that perhaps we would not have thought possible even before entering the path that led us to prison. I have experienced this myself with my Longford Trust mentor, Victoria.

That elusive first job after university

I spent my third year at university working in every spare moment to secure an internship. I applied for more than 300 roles and completed innumerable tests, coding assignments and statistics quizzes. I had interviewed with banks, hedge funds and household-name technology companies, but I never cleared the final hurdle. I had offers made then rescinded, communications abruptly halted, and endured all manner of painful rejection whenever I disclosed my conviction. Throughout that time, however, I was not alone. My mentor was beside me, sharing my excitement, feeling my disappointment and becoming part of my journey.

I now lead AI engineering at what is perhaps one of the most exciting young venture capital firms in London. I left my previous, relatively comfortable finance job because of a few well-chosen words of insight from my mentor. I have not looked back since! I am certain that I owe much of this to her.

‘There is a way out, but you cannot stop looking for it’

Your path to where you want to be may be longer or shorter than mine. It may involve more or less turmoil along the way. It may leave you feeling more dejected and less confident, and cause you to question whether there is a way out. There is a way out, but you cannot stop looking for it.

If you believe that your experience of life deserves a voice, you owe it to yourself to find a way to be heard, to pursue a path to success, to use the resources available to you and, ultimately, to find a way out.

If you have been in prison and want to get a degree that leads to a career that excites and stretches you, speak to Clare Lewis, the Longford Trust’s scholarship manager, about how to apply. Or access our application form here.

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Starting a degree when nearing release can provide some continuity once you are out of prison but, as our scholar Tish describes, there are many, many arduous and isolating challenges to navigate before you feel in control of your life and your future. Education plays a key part but so too do other outlets, including working as an apprentice with Fine Cell Work on embroidery (pictured left)

 

 

 

[…] The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep

Robert Frost (1923)

When I was released from prison in August 2024, I already knew I wanted to build a different future for myself. Two years earlier, while still in prison, I had started taking steps towards that future by commencing a degree with the Open University. I had no idea it was possible to work towards a degree while in prison: I leapt at the opportunity. This was a chance for me to create a strong foundation and work towards something positive.

I undertook my BA (Hons) in English Literature on a part-time basis, which meant completing one module per year. It wasn’t easy in such a tough environment, but the education staff in the prison, as well as some fantastic tutors at the Open University, supported me. One day, leading up to my release, I was in my prison cell listening to National Prison Radio. That was when I heard an advert for the Longford Trust: about how they support people like myself with their education.

A helpful prison officer printed off the forms for me and I sent off my scholarship application to the Longford Trust for a scholarship and was accepted. Upon my release, I decided to increase my studies to a full-time pathway, meaning I would now complete two modules per year towards the six needed for my degree. But education became more than just gaining a qualification. It gave me structure, purpose and something positive to work towards during some of the most uncertain periods of my life.

‘I had to present as homeless to my local council’

The reality of rebuilding my life after prison was challenging. My release was only the beginning of that journey. I officially became a Longford Trust scholar a few weeks after I had moved from prison into approved premises in North London. This provided a supportive environment during my transition back into the community. I met Clare Lewis, the scholarship manager, at the British Library and instantly felt the support shine through that Longford could offer me.

Unfortunately, after my placement ended at the approved premises, I had to present as homeless to my local council. There was no available accommodation, not even a bed at my approved premises because my space had been immediately filled by someone else. That night, I had to sleep on the sofa in the approved premises’ living room.

The next day I was told to pack a bag of essentials, collect a travel warrant and make my way to Bristol to stay in another approved premises. I’d never been to Bristol. Travelling there alone was overwhelming. As someone on the spectrum who lives with complex mental health, sudden changes, uncertainty and lack of control are incredibly challenging.

‘I spent Christmas 2024 alone in my room, unable to face other people’

I spent around a month there and felt institutionalised again. Christmas 2024 was particularly hard. Instead of celebrating with loved ones, or at Church, I spent the day alone in my room, struggling emotionally and unable to face other people. Even in prison, there was a sociable aspect to Christmas.

Despite everything, I carried on. I kept submitting assignments and working towards my goals. I’d keep reminding myself: You’ve come too far to give up now. In January 2025, I was moved again, this time to CAS-3 accommodation (temporary and semi-independent) on the coast i Hampshire: another journey and another adjustment to a completely new environment. A few weeks later, I was moved again, to a different CAS-3 property, a self-contained studio flat in Buckinghamshire.

I was closer to my support network and had a small period of feeling somewhat ‘settled’, but I continued to face uncertainty about housing and my mental health reached a crisis point. I was struggling with the pressure of not knowing where I would go next and had little-to-no say regarding the decisions around my livelihood. It became a turning point. With support around me, I was able to refocus on rebuilding and progression.

‘Opportunities that I never imagined’

After another short stay at the Bristol approved premises, my local council accepted their duty to house me and I was offered temporary accommodation, where I remain. My life has become so much more settled.

An enduring factor throughout this journey has been the incredible support of charitable organisations. The Longford Trust, ID Essence and Fine Cell Work have all provided vital support. The Open University had also contributed towards a laptop while I was in approved premises.

I have a fantastic Longford Trust mentor, with whom I enjoy meeting up regularly. She doesn’t pretend to know exactly what it is like for me, but she listens without judgement and is another person in my corner rooting for me.

ID Essence has supported me throughout my journey; from my time in prison, meeting me at the gate on the day of my release, and through my ongoing resettlement into the community. They provided practical and emotional support which has been a lifeline. Their service has both encouraged and guided me to remain focused on my goals.

Fine Cell has given me opportunities that I never imagined. Recently, I spoke publicly at a Fine Cell Work event about my journey as an apprentice, sharing my experiences and the importance of opportunities after prison. I am also a member of the charity’s Board Advisory Group, where lived experience can help shape discussions and provide insight into the realities of prison, rehabilitation and resettlement. Being trusted to contribute my perspective in this way has been incredibly rewarding and has shown me how valuable lived experience can be in influencing positive change.

Their ‘Open The Gate’ programme has also connected me with creative and cultural experiences that may not have been available to me otherwise. In 2025 we collaborated with artist Ciara Neufeldt on a ceramic exhibition for her residency at the V&A Museum, creating ceramic tiles that became

part of a water wishing fountain installation. Perhaps one of the most sentimental moments was the Fine Cell Work apprentices’ Christmas celebration in December 2025. After the loneliness and difficulties of Christmas 2024, being part of a community, sharing a meal and celebrating together was incredibly special.

‘Each opportunity and each person on my journey has been important’.

Looking back, I can see how important each opportunity and each person has been. My journey has not been straightforward but becoming a Longford Trust scholar is not only recognition of what I have achieved. It is a reminder of what is possible when people are given opportunity, encouragement and support.

My past is an important part of my story, but it does not have to define my future. And in line with the ethos of the Longford Trust, I have experienced first-hand how education and opportunities can transform lives. Today, I am approaching the completion of my English Literature degree. In the past year alone I have gained qualifications through Fine Cell Work, spoken publicly about my experiences, contributed to creative projects and become part of communities that believe in second chances.

I am now considering postgraduate study, another ambition that once felt like a pipe dream. My journey is far from complete, but as I reflect on how far I have come, I am grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given.

If you have spent time in prison and have an ambition to go to university, or if you know someone who does, please contact Clare Lewis so she can explain how the Longford Trust could support you.

When someone believes in your potential before you do

Our scholar James has just received first class results in his Fine Art foundation degree and this summer takes up an internship though our employability programme with a major arts charity. Here he reflects on what has enabled him to embark on this journey and begin to believe in himself.

I was caught in a cycle of addiction and the revolving doors of the criminal justice system. Every sentence seemed to reinforce the idea that this was all my life would ever be. University wasn’t something I ever imagined for myself, and neither was a career as an artist. The turning point came when I became involved with the Liberty Kitchen project at Pentonville Prison (it provides the catering each year for the reception at Longford Lecture).

Through the programme, I found purpose, routine and, perhaps most importantly, people who expected something of me. When I was released, I continued working with Liberty Kitchen on the outside, helping run market stalls and events. For the first time, I wasn’t simply trying to avoid going backwards. I was trying to build a future.

Around that time, my solicitor told me about the Longford Trust and encouraged me to apply. The trust offered me a scholarship if I could secure a university place. That belief meant a great deal because, at that stage, I still wasn’t sure I believed in myself.

‘My offer was withdrawn. I can’t pretend that wasn’t crushing’

I decided to study Fine Art. I applied through clearing and received an offer from a university. It felt as though everything was finally falling into place. Then, during enrolment, I misunderstood the questions being asked about my criminal convictions. Wanting to be completely honest, I disclosed information that wasn’t actually required. My offer was withdrawn.

I can’t pretend that wasn’t crushing. It felt humiliating. Once again, it seemed as though my past had closed another door. When I spoke to the Longford Trust, they told me not to give up. They sat down with me, looked carefully at the wording in the enrolment process and explained that the university had asked only about ‘relevant’ convictions. Mine weren’t relevant to studying Fine Art.

‘My life has changed in ways I never expected’

Understanding that distinction changed everything. I reapplied and secured my place. That experience taught me that having people in my corner who understand the system can make all the difference. Sometimes it’s not your past that stands in the way, but not knowing how to navigate processes that are unfamiliar and intimidating.

Since then, university has changed my life in ways I never expected. I have a Longford Trust mentor, Michele, who supports me in a way that is much more than just being nice to me. I’ve completed my Foundation Year with an average of 72.3% across all five modules, achieving first-class marks. More importantly, I’ve discovered that art allows me to explore experiences that are difficult to express in words.

One of the proudest moments of my life came at our end-of-year exhibition. We transformed our studio into a professional exhibition space. For the first time I saw my work displayed not simply as coursework but as art. Standing there while my parents, my wider family, my solicitor—the person who first encouraged me to apply to the Longford Trust—and her colleagues walked around viewing my work was overwhelming. It wasn’t just an exhibition. It was a moment that made me realise how far I’d come.

‘What is possible when people are offered meaningful support’

My final major project was called The Bureaucracy of Shame (see illustration above). It explored the revolving doors of prison, the bureaucracy that can reduce people to numbers instead of recognising them as individuals, and the barriers that many people face when they genuinely want to change their lives. It was shaped by my own experiences, but it was also about something much bigger than me.

I know how fortunate I have been. Opportunities like the Liberty Kitchen project and the Longford Trust don’t come along for everyone, yet they demonstrate what is possible when people are offered meaningful support, trusted to grow, and given the chance to rebuild their lives.

This summer I will be taking another step forward thanks to the Longford Trust’s employability project through an internship with Koestler Arts as an Exhibition Assistant. I will be helping to showcase to the wider public artwork created by people in prison. It feels like a natural continuation of my journey—using art not only as a way of understanding my own experiences, but also of helping create opportunities for others.

The Longford Scholarship I am receiving isn’t simply financial support. It is somebody saying, ‘we believe you have potential’. That belief is with me through every setback, every application and every day at university when I question whether I belong there.

If you are in prison, or leaving prison, and thinking about applying to university, don’t let your past convince you that those opportunities aren’t meant for you. Ask questions. Keep going, even if you face setbacks. There will be moments when the system makes you feel like a number.

But you are far more than that.

The Longford Trust helped me see that I wasn’t defined by where I’d been. Today, through my studies and my art, I’m beginning to define myself by where I am going.

If you or someone you know is thinking about university but is held back by a lack of belief that it is for them, please do contact Clare Lewis, our scholarship manager and talk it over

The Opportunity That Changed My Life

Our past scholar, Chris Leslie, now CEO of Inside Out Support Wales, reflects on how he still draws every day in his work on his own experience of going to university with Longford Trust support, how it enabled him to believe in himself again, and how he is now instilling in young prison leavers that same belief and therefore a renewed self-confidence as they go forward 

 

When I was sitting in prison filling out my application to the Longford Trust, I had no idea it would change my life. I had left school at 15 with just one GCSE and very little formal education. While serving what would become my first and last prison sentence, I had made the decision that I wanted to study for a degree. I knew I wanted something different for my future. But university felt a million miles away from the life I was living and the reality was that there was very little support available for someone in my position. In fact, the Longford Trust was the only organisation able to help me to pursue that ambition. And they did. Looking back, I don’t think they just supported my education. They helped me believe I had a future.

I studied psychology, but the degree itself was only part of the journey. Longford provided practical support when I wasn’t eligible for student finance – but what they gave me went far beyond money. For the first time in a long time, I felt human. Nobody judged me for my past. Nobody defined me by my conviction. They simply saw somebody who wanted to move forward and were willing to help me do it. That mattered more than I can put into words.

I was not alone

I still remember attending my first Longford scholars’ event. The trust had helped me buy a suit so I could attend feeling confident and prepared. It might sound like a small thing, but it meant a great deal to me. Recently, I found myself helping someone else buy a suit for an important opportunity. It reminded me just how powerful those small acts of support can be.

Before Longford, my ambitions were fairly simple. I wanted to complete my degree and find a career where I could use it. What I didn’t expect was how much bigger my world would become. At Longford events and gatherings, I met people who had been through similar experiences but were now doing incredible things. I remember meeting another scholar who was working [via the trust as an intern] in the Cabinet Office and thinking, “maybe there are opportunities out there that I haven’t even considered”.

Such conversations changed my perspective. For the first time, I began to see myself differently. I stopped focusing on what I couldn’t do because of my past and started thinking about what might be possible despite it.

What my mentor gave me

A huge part of that journey was my Longford Trust mentor. He would travel hours just to meet with me. He was always early, always prepared and always professional. Through his example, he taught me lessons that went far beyond university. He showed me the importance of preparation, professionalism, consistency and taking pride in what you do. Most importantly, he treated me like a person. Not an ex-offender. Not a risk. Not a statistic. For him I was a person with potential.

The support from Longford continued through some of the most difficult periods of my life. I lost the use of my legs for almost a year and faced significant challenges in continuing my studies. Later, I became critically ill with Covid and spent several weeks in a coma. Throughout it all, Longford remained there. The calls continued. The encouragement continued. The support never disappeared.

That is something I will never forget.

Providing others with the same support I got

Today, my life looks very different from the one I imagined when I was sitting in a prison cell completing that application form. I am now the CEO of Inside Out Support Wales, a lived-experience-led organisation supporting people involved in the criminal justice system across Wales. Alongside this, I run my own consultancy, serve as a trustee for two charities, and have been fortunate enough to help develop programmes that are now supporting others to rebuild their lives. I speak at national conferences, contribute to policy discussions, work alongside prisons, probation services and universities, and support others to rebuild their lives. One of the projects I am most proud of is Brighter Pathways, a programme designed by prison leavers for prison leavers.

What started as an idea rooted in lived experience has since become a commissioned programme and has been independently evaluated. We have seen participants move into employment, education and training, rebuild their confidence and begin creating futures for themselves that once felt out of reach. When we developed Brighter Pathways, we wanted to create the kind of support that many of us wished had existed when we were leaving prison. Support that was practical, honest and rooted in understanding. In many ways, I see a direct connection between the support I received from Longford and the support we now try to provide to others.

The Longford Trust helped me see a future that I couldn’t yet see for myself. Through Brighter Pathways, I hope we are helping others do the same.

The ripple effect of support

One of my proudest moments came recently when I led an international learning exchange to Costa Rica. The group included people with previous convictions, several of whom were still on licence in the community. As I watched them board a plane, engage with professionals from another country and represent themselves with confidence, I found myself reflecting on my own journey. Years earlier, Longford had opened my eyes to possibilities I had never considered. Through its events, mentoring and network of support, I met people whose careers and achievements challenged my assumptions about what was possible after prison.

 

Working alongside probation services, we had been able to make the case for these individuals to travel and participate. Watching them share their experiences, learn from others and return home with a renewed sense of confidence was incredibly powerful. It reminded me that opportunity changes people. Sometimes all it takes is one person, one organisation or one conversation that helps someone see a future they couldn’t previously imagine.

For me, the Longford Trust was that organisation. I often think about the ripple effect of support. It believed in me long before I fully believed in myself.  So, if you are currently in prison and wondering whether to apply for their support, my advice is simple. Do it. Do not talk yourself out of it. Do not assume you are not good enough. Do not let your past convince you that opportunities like this are for somebody else. You never know where it might lead.

I certainly didn’t but applying to the Longford Trust was one of the most important decisions I have ever made.

If you are thinking of going on to study at university and want to know more about the help the Longford Trust can provide, contact Clare Lewis, our scholarship manager.

It took 16 years but I’ve completed my law degree

As he is opening his results after finally completing his law degree, our scholar Andrew Morris (pictured left at Longford Lecture with Mandy Baldry) takes a moment to look back on the barriers put in his path, how he found the resilience to overcome them, those who sustained him, and what it means to him now to be a university graduate

Today I received my final result in a Law degree that has taken me 16 years to complete.  One of the first things I want to do is to say publicly a massive, heartfelt thanks to the Longford Trust for sticking with me.  Let me explain. In custody, for some reason, when you study at degree level, you have to do it over six- years, not the usual three that apply outside in the wider world. So, when I began studying with the Open University in 2010, I thought I would be okay, that I would have time. The prison system had other ideas.

After nine months of applications through the prison, I was finally approved to study but, a few weeks later, I got ghosted from one establishment to another with no reasoning and definitely no warning. I had to begin the process all over again. My next challenge, access to a computer, was beyond difficult and inconsistent. What I wanted, I should explain, was a not computer connected to the internet – that is not allowed at all in prisons – but rather just one that allowed me to type assignments and see the word count. At times I had to complete work by hand and literally hope for the best.

I achieved my first two modules (out of the six needed for an OU degree) but decided that study was no longer for me. The prison system appeared to make access more difficult than I felt that it reasonably should be. During this time, I wrote to the Longford Trust for help post-release and was awarded a scholarship. However, a move back to closed conditions soon put a halt to that. I very nearly gave up completely.

People who change people

One of the things that resonates with me is something that Gethin Jones of Unlocking Potential often says. ‘It is not the system that changes people, it is people within the system’. For me one of those people was Mandy Baldry, who worked in education in HMP Coldingley, and who encouraged me (and many others) not to abandon my education.

Following my release, I went back to the Longford Trust to see if the support that they had offered was still there. To my amazement, it was. Part of me wanted them to say no, so that I had an excuse not to carry on! In 2022, more than a decade after I first began on the path to study, I picked up where I left off once released and continued working towards my degree. Initially I had some difficulty with accessing online material – the OU took a little while to recognise that I was no longer studying from a secure environment – but once I managed to resolve the issue, I was away.

I was paired by the Longford Trust with Neil Cavanah as my mentor. He had done a law degree. We have met almost weekly for the past four years. He has been incredibly supportive. At one point I felt like I might take a break, but instead I was persuaded to carry on, studying alongside full time work and now, finally, I have my 2:1 degree.

Looking forward and back

I am grateful to the Longford Trust – Peter Stanford, Tom Pakenham and to all of the staff and trustees – as well as to Mandy Baldry and those individuals within the system who try to make it better for those passing through it. I am now making plans for the future, talking to the Solicitors Regulation Authority, who must pass anyone who has a criminal conviction before they can join the legal profession, as well as continuing with my work with the New Wave Trust. But just at this point in time I want to take a moment to pause, reflect and pay homage to the late great Rudy Narayan, barrister and civil rights activist, who told me many years ago, that I should do a law degree. I also salute the late, great Darcus Howe, writer, broadcaster and racial justice campaigner, who encouraged me on my journey.

Thank you all for guiding me to the person I am today.

Andrew received a Patrick Pakenham Award from the Longford Trust in 2022 to continue with his law degree.  If you have spent time in prison, and would like to study law at university, contact Clare.

 

Fedor Bryant-Dantes: a fellow scholar’s tribute

Today, Thursday 30 April, the funeral takes place in Hastings of our Longford Scholar Fedor Bryant-Dantes, who died suddenly at Easter, just eight days after being released from prison. He was on the cusp of a new life with his fiance Jacqui, soon to complete his degree, having just won a prize for his business plan from Project ReMake. As his family and friends gather to mourn and celebrate his life  – including his Longford Trust mentor, Alistair Davies –  we publish this tribute  by his friend and fellow Longford Scholar Cathy McGuinness. You can  read his brother David’s tribute here. 

They gave you back
Too late.

That is where all thought begins
and where it breaks:
after years of incarceration,
after all that waiting,
all that endurance,
all that life held in suspension,
You stepped back into freedom.

And within days,
The world had lost you.

There is no soft way
to carry that truth.
No careful phrase
that can make it sit gently.
A man survives years in prison,
comes through all that confinement,
all that effort,
all that inner labour
of trying not to be reduced
by the place that holds him,

and then dies…..
just as life is opening.

What are we to call that?
If not cruel?
What are we to call it?
If not, an injustice
too deep for ordinary language?

Systems know how to count.
They count years,
conditions,
risk,
time served.
They count what can be recorded,
measured,
filed away.

But they do not count well
what prison takes.
What it leaves behind
in the body,
in the mind,
in the hidden rooms of a person.
They do not count
the cost of surviving.
And they do not know how to answer
for a freedom
that arrives only briefly,
like light at a door
already closing.

You were a big man,
broad in build,
broad in presence,
a veteran,
a sergeant,
a man shaped by discipline,
danger, and endurance.

You could call yourself
a hard bastard,
And people would believe you.

But those who knew you better
knew that hardness
was never the whole story.

Because there was warmth in you.
And humour.
And intelligence.
A dark wit,
never cruel.
A gift for story.
A way of drawing people in
without effort,
as if something in you
recognised something in them.

You were the sort of man
who made people feel
there was still a way forward.
Not by speeches.
Not by performance.
But by the way you carried yourself,
by the way you treated others,
by the simple fact
that you had known difficulty
and had not let it hollow you out.

That is rare.
Rarer than strength.
Rarer than charm.
To have lived through enough
to harden a person,
and still remain kind.

And kindness was there in you.
Not a sentimental kindness,
but something steadier,
forged.
Compassion with weight behind it.
Patience.
Generosity.
Belief in other people.
A willingness to help them learn,
to help them keep going,
to help them imagine
more for themselves.

You were not standing still.
You were in motion.
Building.
Studying.
Writing.
Redrafting.
Training.
Encouraging others.
Holding yourself to account.
Holding yourself to a standard.

You had chosen growth,
not as an idea,
But as a daily practice.

And that, perhaps,
is what makes this ache so sharply:
You were not merely hoping.
You were becoming.

You were nearing graduation.
You had work ahead of you.
Plans.
Purpose.
A next chapter already taking shape.
The future was no longer abstract.
It was close enough to touch.

So close.

And perhaps that is one reason
this loss feels unbearable,
because after all those years,
after everything prison took,
You had come so near
to the life you had worked for,
the life you had earned.

You were a lighthouse in the dark.
That is how you remain in my mind.
Not because you were perfect,
You were not,
and you knew that better than anyone,
But because you were human
in the fullest sense of the word.
Complex.
Weathered.
Thoughtful.
Deeply alive.
And still able,
despite everything,
to give light to others.

You loved poetry.
That matters to me.
Your love of Idyll matters.

Because it tells its own truth:
that beneath the strength,
beneath the soldier,
beneath the years of prison
and all the armour life had required of you,
there remained sensitivity,
reflection,
an inwardness,
a soul still reaching
towards meaning,
towards beauty,
towards something gentler
than the world had often given back.

My heart breaks too
for Jacqui,
who waited all that time
for you to come home,
only for that homecoming
to be cut so painfully short.

And for your children,
your grandchildren,
your family,
your friends,
and all those whose lives
were warmed by your presence,
There is no arrangement of words
that can make this right.

Only this:
that you were here.
That you mattered.
That the life in you
touched other lives
and changed them.

Only this:
your name,
your voice,
your humour,
your strength,
your humanity,
still moving through the people
who knew and loved you.

Fedor,
you should have had longer.

And if there is peace now,
let it be the kind
that was denied you here,
open,
unmeasured,
free of walls,
free of waiting,
free at last.

 

Oxford helped me rebuild and find my place again

On leaving prison, Haidar Razzak set himself the goal of a place at Oxford. It proved a bruising and challenging undertaking, but with the support of the Longford Trust he achieved it and, since graduation, has gone forward into a successful career as a business leader and entrepreneur. Here, he urges others in the same situation ‘don’t assume Oxford is closed to you because of your past’.

I was reasonably academic during my A-levels, so I was aware of Oxford and Cambridge and the status they carry. But before I really had the chance to explore that properly, my life went off track and I ended up in prison. At that point, I felt like I’d completely derailed what I thought my future was going to be. When I came out in my late 20s, I believed that period of my life was going to define everything that came after it.

I was certain people wouldn’t look past it. So, I made a decision. If I was going to change how people saw me, I needed to do something that carried real weight in a positive direction. That’s what led me, in my late 20s, to apply to Harris Manchester College at Oxford to study maths and philosophy. I chose it because it’s a college for mature students, so I thought they’d be more open to people who hadn’t followed a conventional path, including someone like me.

Navigating the obstacles in my path

Harris Manchester were great. They were open, understanding, and genuinely supportive. The issue came later, when my application was pooled to another college because the maths side of the degree would need to be taken elsewhere. On the UCAS form, I was only asked to declare unspent convictions. Unsure what that meant, I checked with my probation officer and was advised that I didn’t need to declare anything. But the college my application had been pooled to later became aware of my record and refused me a place. That caused the whole thing to fall through.

By that point I’d already been awarded a Longford Scholarship, and the Trust quite reasonably suggested I consider other top universities. But I was set on Oxford, so I reapplied, this time to Mansfield College, and after a bit of back-and-forth, I was offered a place. Once I was there, the reality was very different from what I’d expected. Most tutors and students, whether they knew about my background or not, were welcoming and treated me normally. Of course, there were a few exceptions, but nothing I wasn’t prepared for.

At the start, especially in first term, there was a lot of curiosity. It’s a small college, and people had looked me up, so I ended up having a lot of conversations about my past. It wasn’t always comfortable, but it settled down pretty quickly. Oxford has a way of making sure everyone’s attention ends up where it should be, on the work.

‘Fairly or not, people make assumptions when they see Oxford on your CV’

I probably would have enjoyed other universities too, but the reason I stuck with Oxford is simple. It carries weight. Fairly or not, people make assumptions when they see it on your CV. In my case, it helped shift how people saw me. It opened doors and gave me opportunities I might not have had otherwise. Ten years on, I run my own fitness business across two sites in London, with a third on the way. Looking back, the process of getting into Oxford probably taught me more than the degree itself in some ways, especially how to deal with setbacks and rejection. That’s something I’ve used a lot in business.

It also showed me that I could rebuild and find my place again. I even met my wife there. If I was speaking to someone with a similar background thinking about university, I’d say this: there are lots of good options out there, and Oxford isn’t the only path. But if you’re considering it, don’t assume it’s closed to you because of your past. It’s not easy. Getting in takes hard work, persistence, and sacrifice. Once you’re there, it’s demanding and will challenge you. But the path does exist, and for those who choose to take it, it can be a rewarding one.

Professor Beth Breeze OBE adds: I am so pleased that Haider is sharing his experience of applying to, and studying at, Oxford. As the current Principal of Harris Manchester, Oxford’s only college that is exclusively focused on mature students, I am glad to add my voice to his and encourage others with a similar background to apply. We exist to ensure that the world’s best higher education is accessible to everyone who has the talent and desire to seize this opportunity. We value having a diverse cohort of students and are proud to be working with the Longford Trust to make this a reality.

For further information: contact Clare, our scholarship manager. Or to join the prospective student mailing list, have a real or virtual tour, and read some of student stories, go to Harris Manchester’s website here or email admissions@hmc.ox.ac.uk

‘What defined him was his determination to become a better man’

Over Easter, our 2025 Longford Scholar Fedor Bryant-Dantes died at the age of 48. Here his older brother, David Pentek, himself a past Longford Scholar, writes of how hard Fedor had worked  to build a new life through higher education, taking every chance and helping others to do the same. He was within touching distance of achieving his goals.

My younger brother Fedor passed away suddenly on Easter Saturday from a heart attack, with his fiancée, Jacqui, at his side. His death has left a deep void in the lives of all of us who knew and loved him. Fedor — or ‘Ween’, as I knew him — was a charismatic, intelligent and deeply likeable man with a natural warmth that drew people to him. He had a dark sense of humour that was never offensive, an incredible gift for storytelling, and an ability to connect with people from all walks of life. He was inspirational without trying to be. Simply by the way he lived and treated others, he gave others hope for the future.

As well as Jacqui, he leaves behind his three children Lily, Ellie and Alfie, his grandchildren Athena and Otto, and our sister Claire. He wasn’t always a perfect man, and he would be the first to admit that he had made mistakes, but what defined him was his determination to grow, to learn, and each day to become a better man.

Fedor had served in The Queen’s Royal Hussars, rising to the rank of Sergeant. After leaving the army he worked in close protection, serving in places including Afghanistan, demonstrating courage, resilience and calm strength in challenging environments. Those qualities stayed with him throughout his life. In 2023, he became the second Longford Scholar in our family, pouring his energy into education and personal development. At the time of his death, he was just two months away from graduating in Creative Writing at Portsmouth University. Throughout his time there, starting attending when on day-release from Open prison, and continuing when he was released just eight days before his death, he showed exemplary discipline and purpose: up early each morning, starting his day with routines that reflected his mindset of self-improvement, training regularly, following strict plans, and encouraging others at the gym and university alike. He would spend his days writing drafts and refining his assignments. His tutors recognised his talent, and he was on track to achieve a distinction. Beyond university, he took on mentoring and coaching roles, helping others with Maths and English, particularly during his time supporting education in prison. He did so with compassion, patience and genuine belief in the potential of those he helped.

He was really thriving as a Longford Scholar, and had built a strong relationship with his Longford Trust mentor, Alistair, a retired English lecturer, whose support he celebrated in a blog on the trust’s website back in February, as a ‘quietly affirming’ presence in his life. ‘He reminds me, by example rather than instruction, that wisdom shouldn’t crowd a room. Alistair gives me space to breathe, to think – and, I hope, in time – to offer that same space to others. For his kindness, wisdom, and friendship, I am deeply grateful.’

Recently Fedor won a Dragons’ Den-style pitch with Project ReMake, one of the Longford Trust’s partner organisations, after he presented to their judges his plans to help people express themselves through writing. His future was looking so bright. He had even secured a new job and was due to attend his induction meeting after Easter. He shared with me how excited he was about the opening of this next chapter, about his living life going forward with purpose and optimism. Tragically, it was not to be, but he leaves behind a legacy of resilience, compassion and hope. He will be deeply missed.

We are recruiting for a new role

As the Longford Trust develops, attracting larger number of scholarship applications each year, making more new awards each summer, seeing numbers of scholars working with us growing, we are creating a new senior role at this exciting time for the charity. 

Have a read, and if you think it might be something that appeals to you, something moreover where your work experience, your life experience and your commitment to prison reform could be channeled, then do please consider applying. 

The new vacancy is for an Operations’ Director

• A 3 day-a-week role;
• Reporting to the Director and working as part of the Senior Management Team of the trust, within an overall cohort of eight, all part-time posts;
• Paid pro-rata of £50-55,000 depending on experience via PAYE with pensions contributions;
• The trust has no physical office, so team members work remotely, with flexible hours, but all team members work Tuesdays. There are regular face-to-face team meetings, as well as one-to-ones, so easy access to London an advantage.

The responsibilities of this senior post are as follows:

• Leadership role in following areas: strategy, developing and implementing the 10-Year-Plan; HR; our Frank Awards programme; Communications and Marketing, systems, digital and AI.
• Working with the Director on fund-raising and finance, growing and nurturing our core partnerships;
• Working with other SMT members when needed in delivering their specific programme areas.

And this is the sort of person we are looking for:

Essential qualities you need to be able to demonstrate:

• commitment to prison reform, with an understanding of the prison system and the barriers it creates for those leaving prison (lived experience of the prison or the criminal justice system is valued);
• senior management background either in a charitable organisation or in a relevant area;
• proven leadership skills and ability to represent the trust in public settings;
• track record in expressing yourself clearly and persuasively in writing;
• strong interpersonal skills in regard of team-working, team-building and upholding the values of the trust;
• up-to-date financial and digital literacy.

Our values

Taking our cue from Frank Longford, after whom the trust is named, our values shape every aspect of our work, including all relationships between team members, trustees, scholarship award-holders, our volunteer trained mentors and our employability partners. These values include:

• A firm belief in the power of education to change lives;
• A passion for second chances for those with lived experience of prison;
• A thorough-going can-do, practical approach that is driven by a desire to level the playing field for those who have been to prison and are committed to building new lives;
• A commitment to integration of all regardless of background and circumstances. We assume the best, start from the positive, are curious, are always ready to learn, and reject fixed mindsets.

Application process

Apply to office@longfordtrust.org, with an up-to-date CV and accompanying letter explaining:

• how you fit our job specification;
• why you want to work with the Longford Trust;
• and what you will bring to it.

Closing date noon on Friday May 1. Interviews will be in person in the second week of May.