I’ve been in and out of prison for 35 years – trust me, Boris Johnson’s criminal justice policies are useless

Behind every sentence, there is a person. Without the rehabilitation and education opportunities given to me, I would be back inside. But the prime minister’s announcements don’t offer those chances at all

Like Boris Johnson, I was institutionalised by the age of eight, but here the similarities between us end.

Rather than Ashdown House and Eton College, my institution was the care system, followed by prison.

Separated from my six siblings and placed in the residential care system at the age of three, my experimentation with drugs and alcohol kicked in around my fifth birthday. Following numerous escapes from children’s homes and living life on the streets of London, my first arrest came soon after at the age of 10.

With no direction in my life, I established a pattern of incarceration which has seen me spend 35 years in prisons and secure mental health units. My criminal behaviour started with “dipping” (pick pocketing) and escalated to armed robbery – for which I was ultimately detained for indeterminate public protection for 12 years in 2005.

Finally released from HMP custody in 2019, I am precisely the type of profile criminal that Johnson and Priti Patel intended to evoke “terror” with, in their pre-election-conceived hard line on crime and tougher, longer custodial sentences. Angry, rather than terrified, I urge a reality check for this government engaged in a cynical hard-right charm offensive.

Having been a resident in dozens of prison establishments across England and Wales over the past three decades, I have lived with some of the UK’s most notorious criminals and gangs. I am the first person testimony to the marginalisation and impoverishment of the prison estate across the successive generations of Thatcher, New Labour and Theresa May’s coalition criminal justice revolution. I have seen every initiative come and go. I have seen prison riots, privatisation and staffing cuts.

Throughout my life, spent almost entirely within this system, I have experienced degradation which exceeds anything that my sentencing judges could have envisaged. I have experienced casual and persistent racism, sexual assault and violence from HMP staff in the 1980s and 1990s – all incidents which have been recorded subject to complaints procedures, as well as psychologists, HMP senior management and probation.

Consecutive years of 23 hours of daily “bang up” left me prone to self-harm and multiple suicide attempts. The government’s new proposals will mean more of the same – and worse – for those inmates still living in the prison estate and on their release, making reoffending inevitable.

My reality is that I have bipolar disorder and was released from prison with merely a travel warrant and a £45 prison discharge grant, without necessary medication or referrals. I have found accessing housing and income benefits beyond challenging without a fixed address and any identification. Employment has proved a struggle given my criminal record. Because of this, the temptation to return to my familiar gang lifestyle associates and criminal lifestyle has, at times, been overwhelming, because it’s as though I have no choice.

Rehabilitation seemed like an elusive prospect for me. It has only been made remotely possible because of the support I have received from the charitable sector. Following a chance recommendation from St Giles Trust, I recently joined Leather Inside Out, a new ground-breaking charity offering employment and education within the fashion and leathercraft industries. They pay national minimum level wage and offer a high degree of pastoral support and compassion, which I have never had before.

I want the government to commit the suddenly available millions of pounds it has reserved for Johnson’s reactionary announcements to the National Probation Trust and voluntary sector organisations like St Giles Trust and Leather Inside Out. These are the initiatives that are really prepared and able to rehabilitate prisoners and ex-offenders like me, rather than creating more prison spaces, extending prison sentences and increasing police search powers.

Having spent much of my life inside prison, I know my actions have consequences. I accept responsibility for my actions. I get it. I must change. I want to change. However, my reality is that I left prison five and a half months ago without any certainty that my rehabilitation is given the same priority as my punishment.

I can assure Johnson that prison is not working. The system is at breaking point. The custodial punishment is already severe enough as a deterrent. I would rather die than return to prison, but I need to be helped to live.