Prison violence, demands from correctional officers and poor prison conditions make headlines. The Sun discussed it with two men incarcerated at Orsainville prison.
It is quite rare for defense lawyers to advise their clients to speak out during their legal proceedings. But in this context, these prisoners have nothing to lose.
Prison conditions are “unbearable”. Their situation in prison could hardly be worse. They mainly want to add their voice to that of correctional officers, who have been calling for more hands for a long time.
“In prison, you don't expect to be free, but there is a residual freedom, they almost have none left. The guys are panicking and on the verge of exploding,” says lawyer William Vallée, who represents K. Beaulieu and S. Lauzon.
Final demand
Last week, defense lawyers sounded the alarm by sending a long letter to the ministers of Justice and Public Safety. They denounce “inhumane” prison conditions. Lack of staff inside prisons prevents lawyers from doing their job well; and the quality of the entire judicial system is damaged.
K. Beaulieu and S. Lauzon know that people's sympathy for prisoners is not a foregone conclusion. The well-being of offenders is certainly not at the top of the agenda, even as the holidays approach.
The two accused have been in prison in Quebec for several months already. They have also served sentences in the past. Beaulieu is notably before the court for offenses of harassment and assault. Lauzon is accused of committing mischief and breaking and entering.
Despite their extensive legal record, they believe they have the right to demand better prison conditions. They want the laws surrounding prisoners to be respected, no more, no less.
“What we deplore is the long, repeated confinements and the consequences on us, our loved ones and our sentence,” says S. Lauzon.
The objective is not to debate the guilt of the two men they met, they are however demanding better prison conditions. (123RF)
Stuck in cell
In the last six months, the quality of their conditions has deteriorated. K. Beaulieu and S. Lauzon took notes.
Since June, they have spent an average of 17 hours confined in cells per day.
Between December 3 and 10, they allege they spent 139 out of 168 hours in their cell. The following week, between December 11 and 18, they spent 114 hours locked up. Lockdowns happen. It's part of a detainee's reality, but “never so often”, say those who experienced detention before the situation deteriorated.
Since June 27, S. Lauzon has calculated 18 periods of more than 24 hours spent in cells. Since October 13, they have been able to experience normal prison activities for 18 days, out of 66.
If they are lucky, detainees are released between 4 p.m. and 10:45 p.m. to wash, eat, chat or call their relatives and lawyers.
“I spend my days in a cell that is three meters by six meters. I have a fellow inmate with me who sleeps on the floor, near the toilet, because there are too many of us in our wing.”
— K. Beaulieu
Inmates call it “camping,” when a fellow inmate is installed on the ground.
During events that destabilize prison life, such as drones, broken windows or fights, inmates are immediately confined in cells. Correctional officers must work to restore order, for example, and there aren't enough staff left to keep the wings secure if inmates are out of cells.
“We have seen their lack of staff completely decline. I understand they can't open the doors! It's not their fault. We have our rights too. Our doors must be open a certain number of hours. Unfortunately, our rights are completely violated.”
Men may remain confined even if no abnormal events are reported, simply because of a lack of correctional officers on the floor.
Inmates make repeated complaints in prison. But that “doesn’t do anything.”
Beaulieu and Lauzon pity the correctional officers. They see them running out of steam, they notice the overtime and the reduced number of employees. Six months ago, there might have been three agents in the surveillance console, for example. These days, there is only one.
“I am completely demoralized, totally exhausted. When we can finally get out, it creates poor cohesion between each inmate. The lack of tobacco plays a big role, but especially the fact of being confined in a small room, 90% of the time lying on the bed. The tension becomes completely unbearable.”
The violence
Yes, things are a lot more happening in prison, but not everywhere. Beaulieu and Lauzon are installed in pavilion F, in a “rather quiet” wing. They say they maintain a relationship of respect between inmates and with officers. It's not true that everyone causes trouble, they insist.
“I am not responsible for the behavior of my fellow prisoners, but we all pay the price at the same level. Me, I just try to stay calm in my corner,” notes Lauzon.
During dry cell regimes, when officers suspect the presence of drugs in the cell, the water must be turned off for the entire wing — both the tap and the toilet. These details make confinement even more unbearable. When the water is turned back on for a few minutes, they must decide whether to flush the toilet or refill their water bottle.
“It’s mental torture. There is anxiety, depression. Our family outside has no news,” expresses Lauzon.
Both men are not looking for encouragement. They don't want any favors. They simply want a return to normal, in order to complete their sentence without hassle.
Earlier this year, a study from the University of Quebec at Montreal (UQAM) spoke of a meteoric rise in suicides and suicide attempts in Quebec detention centers during the pandemic.
At this rate, these statistics are not about to improve, note the two inmates.
They don't know if their speaking out will help make things happen. In the meantime, they continue to take notes. They calculate the number of hours locked up. Defense lawyers believe that massive class actions regarding the treatment of detainees could be launched in the coming months or years.
In the short term, options to improve the situation are limited. One thing is certain, all stakeholders in the field agree that more correctional officers are needed.
“I sense distress during calls from my clients. It happens to be locked up, but now, it has become systematic. It contributes to tensions. An inmate still locked up, he will not be in his normal state when he gets out. It’s starting to freak out,” underlines Me Vallée, who represents Beaulieu and Lauzon.
