Tag: scholarship

Going into Uganda’s prisons: a journey in two parts

Author: | 29 Aug 2023

In July, two of our scholars went to Uganda on a travelling scholarship, funded by the Henry Oldfield Trust, to spend the month working alongside the charity Justice Defenders in the country’s jails. Here Victoria, one of the two, reflects on what was for her a transformative journey. The good things that happen in Uganda’s prisons, she argues, set a good example to the UK

When I embarked on a journey to Uganda on a Longford Trust travelling scholarship, and was hosted there by Justice Defenders, little did I know that this adventure would challenge my perceptions, reshape my perspectives, and leave an indelible mark on my life. For six long years, I had vowed to never step foot inside a prison again, scarred by the wasted time of my previous incarceration. However, fate had other plans as I found myself breaking that vow and venturing into nine different prisons within just three weeks, this time not as an inmate, but as a visitor and advocate.

My Ugandan experience began in the vibrant city of Kampala, where I was immediately captivated by the beauty of the land. The lush forests, diverse trees, and bountiful crops painted a vivid picture of nature’s abundance. However, beneath this beauty lay a complex reality – the livelihoods of many Ugandans depend on agriculture and self-employment, leading to a cycle of imprisonment due to petty crimes.

The journey commenced with visits to three prisons in Kampala – the Luzira female institute and two male prisons. Here, I was introduced to the coloured labels that defined sentences within Ugandan institutions: yellow for remand and short sentences, orange for longer terms, and white for those with death sentences. Inside the female institute, I met incredible women, and their children, each wearing their sentences with resilience. They were part of Justice Defenders, a group empowering individual prisoners who lacked financial means with legal knowledge so as to represent themselves in court.

Helen and Grace, two of these remarkable women, had transformed themselves into paralegals after receiving training from Justice Defenders. Helen’s words resonated deeply: “Courts can be frightening… Uganda v Helen, and it’s mind-blowing, the whole country against me. I hated prosecution when I was in court, but studying law has made me realise they are just exercising their jobs.”

The empowerment these women gained through legal education was not just about personal transformation; it was about helping their fellow inmates and advocating for justice. As I conversed with these women, their compassion, resilience, and commitment to change were palpable. They were eager to learn about the UK’s Indeterminate Sentences for Public Protection (IPP) and Extended Determinate Sentences (EDS) system, expressing concern and curiosity about its implementation. Their thirst for knowledge was fuelled by their desire to transform not only themselves but their communities as well.

Heading into a male prison in Kampala, the atmosphere felt different. The men were serious, contemplative, and structured. With a focus on helping newcomers navigate the legal system, the male paralegals embraced their roles as “fellow members of Justice Defenders”. Their dedication to legal education and rehabilitation was awe-inspiring. The emphasis on knowledge, articulated with seriousness and conviction, showcased the transformational power of education and purpose.

‘For six years, I had vowed to never step foot inside a prison again. However, I found myself breaking that vow and venturing into nine different prisons within just three weeks’

When my journey moved on to the mid-central Mubende region in Uganda, there was a shift in focus from the city’s prisons to a wider community engagement. Justice Defenders extended its reach beyond prison walls, working to reintegrate released individuals back into society. In many communities, acceptance of ex-convicts was a challenge, leading Justice Defenders to conduct community awareness sessions and radio talk shows, collaborating with legal professionals and community leaders to foster understanding and second chances.

The establishments in Mubende were largely farm prisons, emphasising rehabilitation through agricultural activities. Paralegals played a crucial role due to limited staff, and officers often collaborated closely with inmates to foster personal growth and skills development. The dedication and training of staff within Uganda’s prisons stood out as a remarkable difference from other systems. The emphasis on rehabilitation and transformation was evident, reflecting the belief that every citizen has a role to play in prison reform.

During a visit to the crown court in Mubende, the dynamics of Uganda’s legal system unfolded before my eyes. Plea bargaining took centre stage, with many men choosing to plead guilty to avoid lengthy trials or higher court proceedings. Sentencing in Uganda diverged from what I am accustomed to, and the absence of a formal criminal record system intrigued me. This unique approach sought to reintegrate individuals seamlessly into society after their release.

One profound experience in Mubende was witnessing a prison governor advocating for inmates in court. This personal touch emphasised rehabilitation and the belief in second chances, fostering a sense of hope among the inmates. The stories of individuals like Paul, who had endured years of imprisonment due to injustice, revealed the strength of human spirit and the power of advocacy in the face of adversity.

‘a common thread emerged – the transformative power of education and empowerment’

Throughout my journey, a common thread emerged – the transformative power of education and empowerment. Inmates turned paralegals were not defined by their pasts; they were defined by their newfound purpose, knowledge, and commitment to change. Their dedication to legal education and their communities was inspiring, reminding me of the importance of viewing individuals beyond their mistakes.

As I reflect on my time in Uganda, gratitude fills my heart. The opportunity to learn, connect, and witness the dedication of both inmates and advocates was a gift beyond measure. The experience left an indelible mark on me, shaping my understanding of justice, rehabilitation, and the potential for transformation. My journey with the Longford Trust and Justice Defenders was not just a visit; it was a transformative voyage that redefined my perspective and enriched my life.

Want to know more about our travelling scholars and their trip in July 2023 to Uganda.  Read more here.

How education gave me a second chance

Author: | 24 Mar 2023

Excluded from school for being disruptive Neil had no interest in education when he was sent to prison. But slowly he caught the learning bug and now has a degree to his name.  For Longford Blog he describes how, with our backing, he landed his dream job in prison reform.

 

The letters A,B,C,D are probably the most important determination of a teenager’s future, the higher the letter, the better their chances of carving out a successful career. Unfortunately for me, instead of getting a GCSE grade, I received a different sort of B – I was sent to a Category B prison.

 

Even if I’d stayed at school I probably wouldn’t have passed any of my exams. I had no enthusiasm for education, was disruptive and an all-round nuisance for the teachers who passionately gave up their time despite my antics. Looking back, this was even more depressing as I actually had an ability to achieve: I started out in all the top sets but found myself in the lower tiers because of my behaviour.

 

I was suspended and subsequently permanently expelled. A gaping hole in my personal development and a lack of structure left me destined for failure. And I became the ultimate failure, committed an horrendous crime and – rightly so -received a custodial sentence for longer than I had been alive.

 

Getting back on track

 

Spending time in the juvenile prison estate meant that I was faced with my arch nemesis again – education. True to fashion, I wasn’t interested, had zero motivation to learn, and attended just to get out of my cell. Now, 16 years on, I have a degree with first-class honours, am halfway through an MA in Crime and Justice, and I already have a blueprint for a possible PhD.

 

So how did I get hooked on education? In prison there is a requirement to complete Maths and English to an adequate level. For me this was boring but essential. Once you have completed the foundations, other courses become available. After spending four years passing English and Maths, I was invited to study Sociology at GCSE level. At this point I was more mature and enjoyed my tutor using the Sociology syllabus to help me understand how society works. As well as a qualification, I was learning about myself and how I had found myself in prison.

 

Getting motivated

 

I guess when there is an intrinsic motivation you are more committed to learn. As time went on, I was excited by study. I even washed the sleep out of my eyes to ensure I was bright and early for class. As well as attending lessons, I would pull out the books on a night-time and indulge in reading stuff outside the syllabus.

 

I stuck at it and achieved a respectable grade B. I had caught the education bug. With the same inspirational teacher, I next completed 7 more GCSEs. Then my tutor suggested I start higher education at The Open University.

 

Distance Learning and Student Loans

 

I continued with the Social Sciences, took advantage of a student loan to pay for my OU module costs and dedicated my time to learning. After navigating the prison system’s distance learning troubles, I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Social Sciences. I was ready to stop there. I was already anxious about release and didn’t want to incur any more debts through student finance.

 

Fortunately, I was responsible for helping other prisoners choose higher education opportunities and was made aware by my peers of what The Longford Trust offers. I noticed the energy and positivity among those who were on a Longford Scholarship and I wanted in! I applied and, to my delight, they awarded me three years of funding towards an MA in Crime and Justice.

 

A scholarship that goes beyond money

 

Once I had been accepted, the Trust’s director came to meet me in prison, explained that the scholarship is more than paying for tuition fees, and talked to me about finding a suitable mentor. Over and above the financial aspect of the scholarship, one of the key advantages it provides is having one of the Trust’s trained mentors to support you one-to-one.

 

I have now been in the community for twelve months and The Longford Trust has shared my resettlement journey with me. As well as getting my studies transferred smoothly from prison to community, they have offered me professional advice and a helping hand whenever I need it. So much so that they helped me land my dream job of helping fight for fairer outcomes in the criminal justice system. My rehabilitation journey would look incredibly different without them.

 

If you feel inspired by Neil’s story and would like to apply for a Longford Scholarship, contact Clare Lewis for details or an application form, or write to her at Freepost, Longford Trust (you don’t need a stamp)

An Eye-Opening Pre-pandemic Study Trip

Author: | 8 May 2020

With the impact of Covid-19 felt across the world, travel is currently off limits. In a glimpse backwards and, hopefully, forwards, Longford scholar Wayne Haycock describes the lasting effect of a study trip to India before the pandemic.

 

At first, I had reservations. My last experience of international travel didn’t end well. At 16, I was arrested and imprisoned for drugs importation. That was eighteen years ago and a different me.

The prospect of a four-week placement in India stirred up deep-seated emotions from excitement to apprehension and everything in between.

I had to have a word with myself, telling myself this was as an opportunity to be grabbed not feared. Anyway, it was part of my youth work and community development university degree so important to do if I could raise the funds and get the visa. To be honest I hadn’t assumed it would be approved, so when it came through the mix of relief and fear were overwhelming.

A foreign assignment is a big deal for anyone. For me, it was massive.

Fast forward to January 2020 – before the global pandemic took hold – and I am on the plane to Kolkata (Calcutta as was) in India. On arrival at the airport, despite worries my past could be flagged up and I could be denied entry, I got straight through security. Relief.

First impressions….

Then it felt like stepping into a new world with car horns blasting and eye-watering driving, which I can only describe as an adult version of bumper cars. It all felt a bit crazy but exciting in anticipation of the experiences ahead. At the airport, I was met by staff from the Cathedral Relief Service (CRS), the organisation behind my placement. Originally it had been set up to provide refugees fleeing the Bangladeshi war in 1971 with medical, food and clothing supplies. Since then it has helped children and women with education, healthcare and vocational skills in Kolkata’s poorest areas and surrounding rural villages.

Previous thoughts of India were of the kind of images you see in travel brochures: multi-coloured landmarks, spices and bright dresses. Once there, the extreme poverty immediately jumped out at me: people living on the streets, women with children begging for anything they could lay their hands on, everyone fighting to survive. I couldn’t get my head round the normalisation and desensitisation to everyday human suffering. It was heart-breaking.

Education in action….

The educational projects I visited took me to the slum areas of Kolkata. The projects help pre- and primary school kids to gain a place at mainstream schools so that they have a fighting chance of breaking out of the poverty cycle they were born into.

What struck me most about seeing the education in action was that although generally of a good standard, it lacked special needs provision.  Children with specific learning issues like dyslexia, which makes reading and writing hard for them, simply fall through the cracks. This means 12-year-olds learning side-by-side in class with children as young as 5 as they have not been able to pass the necessary requirements to enter into mainstream education. Older children with special needs are held back until they pass. Some don’t. Older children were failing because they don’t have access to the essential specialist help they need.

I asked the teacher of this school what will happen to a particular 12- year-old boy, when his time on the educational programme finishes. She does not know, he is their family’s responsibility.

Another project that made a big impression was the women’s empowerment centre. It teaches embroidery skills to enable women to supplement their family’s income so their children can go to school and avoid begging so their family can eat. Seeing a practical project at first hand was heart-warming, how a simple intervention can bring education and a better future to families, and that making a difference to one person’s life really does have a knock-on effect to others.

Honestly, there were times when it was impossible to process both the poverty and  desperate health conditions. Meeting children dying of or orphaned by HIV in a hospice is something I will never forget. The problem is too complex to make sense of in a brief study trip. Maybe in time I will start to understand.

Looking back. The teenage girl I will never forget….

Reflecting now I am back and in lockdown, I remain struck by how the caste system was still evident although not spoken about. Yet everywhere I went it was in action, its impact obvious. For example, I visited a self-made community living alongside a railway track at a place called Brace Bridge (pictured here). Known as ‘untouchables’, the children have been born destined to struggle due to a broken social structure. They are ostracised from the rest of society, leading to terrible outcomes. Adult men marry young girls.

I met a fifteen year -old- girl with a baby.  She told me she was married at thirteen. This resonated with me.  My eldest daughter is the same age. I just cannot imagine her going through the challenges this young girl before me has. It made me question where her voice was being heard in all of this, did she have a say?

I understand India is overpopulated, but I just don’t comprehend how, in a well-resourced world, there are so many fellow human beings living in extreme poverty. After coming face-to-face with the harsh cost of people’s greed, on my return I am not prepared to accept it.

Nevertheless, my first international trip since my troubled teens was a blessing. It was an honour to take a hands-on academic ethnographic approach, to break out of the lecture hall. I have benefitted from experiencing a completely different culture and society for myself, and was blown away by people’s remarkable hospitality.

Travel is said to change people. I am undoubtedly changed by my visit to India. I had already come a very long way since the terrible trip of my youth. I was a transformed, different Wayne. Without doubt, though, I came back from India further changed.

It would be difficult for anyone to go to India, see those slums and not be humbled. Of course, we have issues within our community. As we all currently are living with the fallout from a global pandemic, I reflect on how we can always focus on the negatives in life such as what we do not have instead of what we do, my trip has helped me to appreciate the safety net of a welfare state, the NHS and the multiple services which give us the life we have.

It has made me realise how far I have come.

 

 

Wayne travelled to India with a travel scholarship from the Longford Trust.