ANNAH PHUME, 31, sentenced to 15 years and has been at the facility for nine months

“My first day in prison was a hard pill to swallow. I was nine months pregnant and naturally, worried about my baby’s safety. I still haven’t fully accepted that this is my life, but I’m slowly coming to terms with my new surroundings. My daughter is now nine months old — seeing her smile truly uplifts me.

Being a mother is a blessing, but not in here. Allah created everything to be beautiful, but prison makes you doubt that beauty. Raising a baby behind bars is tough. There are some things that the baby needs that aren’t easily available. What helps me cope is my strong belief that Allah has a solid reason and plan for placing me in here – I honestly don’t know where I’d be without my faith.

Imagining the day when my daughter has to leave breaks my heart. She’s the reason I’ve survived this limiting environment. Our routine keeps me sane and makes the days go by quicker. I have two sons back home, but they don’t know of my whereabouts. They probably think that I’m out there somewhere, making a living for them. My sister, who is currently their guardian, wants to bring them for a visit but I keep refusing. I’m not ready to face, nor see them. My second son is disabled, so I know I’ll definitely bawl when I see him.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for my family’s support, but I don’t want my children to see me at my lowest. I already feel like I’ve let my family down, and don’t want to feel any worse than I do by having my kids ask me questions I’m not ready to answer. When my daughter leaves prison at age two, I won’t allow her to come back to visit me. That would feel like salt being sprinkled on an already septic wound.

I’d turn back the hands of time, if I could — make sound decisions and prioritise my childen’s happiness. From the confines of this place, I can only wish for them to be educated, successful and go on to achieve great things. I wouldn’t wish prison on anyone.”