Chester Borrows: Why prisoners need care

Feedback on justice reform from people at this year s Ratana celebrations suggests dealing with wrongdoers might be better done to the beat of a different drum. Photo / File

Last week I spent two days at Ratana as part of our Te Uepu Hapaitia - Justice Reform Advisory Group - speaking to people about the system and what is working and what is not.

It was an amazing experience and, in many ways, reflected the previous dozen or so times I have been to the Ratana celebrations in terms of the hospitality, friendliness and the good humour of all attendees.

The life stories of those who had been touched by the justice system through offending themselves, or by friends or relatives or the first-hand knowledge gained from years of frontline service in one of the relevant government agencies or NGO's was inspirational and, at times, very moving.

One such occasion was when a young boy, maybe 8 years of age, came to the tent for some sunscreen, which we were giving away in liberal doses. He was asked, "What do you think we should do with people who do bad things?" His response "just awhi them". Meaning to "awhina" or "care" for them.

The application of care for people who have hurt others or offended against our societal mores, broken the rules, or committed selfish or unthinking acts does not mean we don't care for any victims that may be suffering as a result of those actions.

It doesn't mean we elevate the rights or needs of the offender above others' rights to live free from offending, but it does mean that we understand that people commit crimes for lots of different reasons.

With over 70 per cent of people in jails having suffered head trauma, to awhina them means to treat the illness. With over 80 per cent of them suffering from alcohol and drug dependency, awhina means to provide therapy to deal with these conditions.

With over 80 per cent of them unable to read, write or do maths to their chronological age, awhina means to take the opportunity while they are in jail to educate them.

I was speaking to a Methodist minister who supports a prisoner in Auckland who cannot read or write. The prisoner gets one hour of education per week and nothing else towards rehabilitation. That is the opposite of awhina.

If the prisoner is in jail for violence and receives no therapy or encouragement not to be violent in an institution where gang membership or affiliation makes up for at least a quarter of the population, then that is diametrically opposed to the concept of care.

No wonder people can leave prison with all the baggage they came in with and in full expectation of a speedy return behind bars.

Earlier this week I triggered a discussion about the meagre $350 a released prisoner is given to get them through the first two weeks of "freedom". This is to cover transport, food, accommodation, clothing, toiletries, entertainment. The dollars have not changed since they were reduced in 1991 in the Mother-of-all-Budgets.

There have been no increases to account for inflation or any subsequent rise in the consumer-price index in 28 years. Many responses showed no understanding of how difficult it might be to make a fresh start on such a pitiful amount.

People don't realise that a prisoner working five days per week may only receive $30 in wages because as soon as [he] earns money it is removed to pay for the food and lodgings of the prison.

Just like those who work outside prison, food, board, and other costs are met from any wages. Then, any money a prisoner has in their account on release is automatically deducted from the $350 they would normally receive to make a fresh start.

Let alone the fact that this cannot be accessed without a bank account, which cannot be opened without photographic identification.

Despite the Government holding in trust a birth certificate, a blood sample, fingerprints, photograph and a DNA sample, no such identification is provided by the Government that has been holding them.

Without access to the identifying documents, and thereby the $350 to pay for lodgings etc, many released inmates go back to the associates and family they had prior to entry in to prison and so the cycle begins again.

And society sits back and says, "There you go. I told you he was no good."

That is not awhina. It is not even civilised. It is not the New Zealand I want to live in, but it is the only New Zealand some people ever know.