Prisons are failing the mentally ill
Yusuf Faqiri and his family could hardly have imagined that three years after his late brother was carried out of an Ontario jail, that they would still be looking for answers — and justice.
But that’s exactly the situation the family finds themselves in today — one that far too many families in this country have experienced despite inquests, human rights complaints, lawsuits and countless recommendations on how to fix a broken prison system.
Soleiman Faqiri’s death has become yet another heartbreaking example of systemic failures in Canada’s detention and correctional facilities, particularly when those with mental illnesses are held in solitary confinement. What’s hardly comforting is a provincial audit released earlier this month by Ontario’s attorney general that suggests very little has improved: An overburdened corrections system remains ill-equipped to adequately support inmates, particularly whose with mental-health challenges.
“Correctional institutions are not suited to provide appropriate care to the growing percentage of inmates who have possible mental health issues,” the report reads. “We also found that correctional officers require more training to be provided so that they can handle inmates with mental health and behavioural issues more effectively and manage work-related stress.”
In fact, reading between the lines, one can’t help but wonder if another tragedy like Soleiman’s is inevitable.
Soli, as his family still calls him, was diagnosed with schizophrenia after a car accident while in university. He would struggle to take his medications and have run-ins with the law. Under the Mental Health Act, he would be taken to hospital in most of those instances.
In December 2016, the 30-year-old was once more arrested after an incident with a neighbour. Yet, this time, rather than be taken to a hospital for medical treatment, the young man was taken to the Lindsay superjail, where he was put into segregation. It was supposed to be temporary, until a bed became available in a nearby hospital.
He’d never make it out alive. Eleven days after his detention, during which his family was repeatedly denied the right to visit him, he was found dead. A pathologist report confirmed that 50 bruises from blunt force impact trauma were left on Soli’s body during an altercation that lasted several hours between him and several prison guards.
The cause of death was nonetheless found to be “unascertained.” While no prison guards have ever been charged for what transpired, the family has brought forward a lawsuit against the government, the superintendent of the jail, seven corrections officers and continues to call for a new investigation.
The third anniversary of Soli’s premature death recently passed. Vigils were held across the country as more and more Canadians worry about a system that is meant to protect our most vulnerable.
“Even as we mourn the loss of my brother, Soleiman, we also remember the families of dozens of other men and women who have died in Canadian jails and correctional facilities … Sadly, what started as our family’s search for answers has now become a nation-wide campaign of many grieving families,” Soli’s brother, Yusuf, told the vigil in Peterborough.
It’s hard to know how many inmates are held in segregation in prisons across the country, or for how long, due to woeful lack of data. There are also no provincial prison ombudspersons who could field complaints and investigate concerns about solitary confinement and the treatment of inmates.
At the federal level, there has been some change, though advocates say it is not enough. Bill C-83 is being touted by the government as putting an end to the practice of solitary confinement. It came into effect on Dec. 1.
Inmates could still be placed in “structured intervention units” for a variety of reasons, though the new law requires inmates receive minimum amounts of human contact per day.
Those placed behind bars deserve the same human rights considerations that anyone else in our society expects. This is particularly true when they shouldn’t be there in the first place, but in the care of medical professionals. Why is it taking so long to fix this?
Amira Elghawaby is a human rights advocate and writer in Ottawa. Follow her on Twitter @AmiraElghawaby