The harsh lessons of Christmas in B Block, Sir David Longlands

“Get me points down! I told them I would be probably dead before I could finish any of his bloody courses and that shut him up. Next thing I know I am on the van to Longlands. Too hot to handle,” Merv said philosophically. “No jail wants me in case I croak it. So I get to spend Christmas at SDL.”

Merv stood up to leave. I slipped him some coffee and a few teabags. He immediately shoved them down the front of his jocks. The jailhouse snooker. Old habits die hard.

We said our goodbyes and Old Merv hobbled away in his unique crab-like style.

I watched a couple of the young crims hold the door open for Merv as he hobbled through. They followed him up The Spine of B Block to their Units. I watched their receding backs and I pondered about old Merv, Christmas in B Block and the upcoming generation of young crims ...

The authorities expect us to learn compassion but they show no compassion to those in their control.

They want us to learn the value of life but they devalue life by throwing a dying man into B Block.

They claim that B Block is for hardened crims. The no-hopers. The intractables. Then they fill it with the sick, the infirm or the young.

The hypocrisy of a system that is epitomised by law-and-order policies that only result in more people coming to prison for lesser crimes.

And politicians still beat their breasts about tougher laws and longer terms of imprisonment.

Inside the cladded surrealistic world of B Block at SDLCC old Merv struggled with his terminal sentence and fought the shadows to find a bit of sunlight or fresh air.

The system is doing an admirable job of shaping the upcoming young minds of the next generation. Christmas? Bah! Humbug!