Change on the inside

family on the outside. It’s one where, alongside learning work skills, inmates hear their first names being used, and see their children in a visitors’ room where they can play with them.

The unit has engaged one prisoner who never thought he would serve out his sentence in minimum security.

Bob* has been institutionalised all his life. ‘‘I spent 15 years in maximum and never thought I would get to a minimum.

‘‘I was a bit reluctant to come. I didn’t want to move from where I was. I was comfortable, but now I am glad I did, it’s been huge.’’

He has learned that what is important to him are his partner and children on the outside.

‘‘It’s one of the best places for anyone that is going the wrong way. You learn that your whakapapa joins all gangs together. We sit next to each other – Headhunter, Black Power, Mongrel Mob, we are wha¯ nau.

‘‘It also allows a place to be able to be Ma¯ ori.’’

Andrew Bishop is principal corrections officer of Te Ao

Ma¯ rama. One of the inmates describes the British immigrant as a cross between an English rose and a kawakawa leaf.

‘‘What we offer here is a safe environment for the men to learn and understand their culture,’’ Bishop says.

‘‘Everybody here is on the same waka. We have huge wraparound support to help the men: we have life facilitators to guide them in the teaching side, the custodial side, we have a kaitiaki-family liaison officer, and we’ve got case managers.’’

It is a nine-month programme and is split into three phases – including the inmates finding out who they are and their background. They have to sit down and be honest about what they did, and why they did it.

There is also a drug and alcohol rehabilitation programme.

‘‘This whole unit is wha¯ naucentric. Family is the foundation for these men to continue in society in the best and correct manner,’’ Bishop says.

‘‘So they don’t come back here, they need the family support as their go-to. We invite the family in to learn and to take part in the journey, so they are aware of the journey the men are going through and can support them.’’

The unit began six years ago, and the change it’s making in prisoners is being recognised nationwide as its theories are spread across the prison service.

In June, figures showed that 51.7 per cent of the prison population is Ma¯ ori.

‘‘Some of the men that come here are ratbags from other prisons or from this one,’’ Bishop says. ‘‘They may be on management plans, locked up 23 hours a day in order to try and force some type of behaviour into them, but in here within a week they’ve brought into it – so there must be something in it.’’

The unit is based on five key values that are also carved on pouwhenua [posts] by Jack*, a current inmate.

‘‘Some of the values we don’t know might be the reason we are in here,’’ Jack says.

‘‘The five are kaitiaki – caring for oneself and the environment; manaaki – how we treat each other; rangatira – respect everything, treat people how you want to be treated; wha¯ nau – we know we are in jail, but this is wha¯ nau; wairua – spirituality – everything has a wairua, it’s about respecting each other.’’

There are now five units in the North Island that have realised that the depth of culture can change the men.

Waikeria has plenty of opportunities for inmates to keep busy and earn some money while on the inside – being a working dairy farm, it also has other units from which the men can gain work experience.

One of those is the remand unit, where inmates are held while awaiting the outcome of their charges.

While waiting, there is an opportunity to keep busy by working in horticulture alongside instructor Morgan Quay. ‘‘What the boys currently do and deliver is they grow and propagate the young native seedlings and all the plants go back on to the farm as they help