Another one of my choices on this weeks Prison Objects. I hope you’ll enjoy the short piece I’ve written around the prison toilet.
Life Through Prison Objects
The Prison Toilet – by Jailhouse Moose
It’s amazing how much we take them for granted. They are just there, they do a job (or we do a job in them!) but how often do we really think about them?
There are many downsides and ordeals involved in coming to prison, but toilets and their use rate very highly in that order. It is not only the fact that they are grim, but their location too plays a part.
I have seen toilets that are chipped, broken and stained. There have been seat-less thrones, toilets without cisterns and even pans that sport trails of mutant fungal coral colonies. Once I approached a relatively normal looking toilet only to be overwhelmed with the same sense of horror I might have experienced had I snagged a trip-wire or heard the click as I stepped on a landmine. I had to step gingerly backwards in case I broke the surface tension of the fetid waters and released something abhorrent into the air.
A new cell contains an old toilet and a bit of a dilemma. I am not averse to cleaning, but the nature of a high security British Prison makes a mundane task like cleaning more difficult. Unfortunately gloves are regarded as a security risk. They could be used to conceal fingerprints or prevent the transfer of DNA in the commission of an offence. They could be used to store illicit liquids like hooch. They can be used to conceal items in a watertight wrapping – I’ve heard of things hidden in the U-Bend – even more extreme than that, a finger cut from a rubber glove makes an excellent wrapper for an item stored in a prison wallet (i.e. anally concealed or ‘plugged’). Often we have to make do with using a plastic bag to cover our hands while we clean.
Once we have a clean toilet we are good to go, aren’t we? Not a bit of it. Kangas (prison officers) have a knack of knowing when you take a dump. You can wait around for an age for a roll check and nothing happens, but as soon as you drop trousers and perch you can be sure that a Kanga will either open the flap to check on you or open the door and barge in.
The other issue is getting your bowels regular. If you share a cell, the last thing you want is to need a dump in a 10’ x 6’ room. In my first cell, when I sat on the toilet my knee would be pressed against the end of the bunk bed. My padmate and I had fashioned a curtain out of a shoelace and a spare towel. We tried our best to use the wing toilets, but every once in a while we just got caught short – especially if there was unscheduled lock up.
Even the wings were traumatic as the doors are generally the Saloon style like the Wild West – people give you a nod and a wave when you’re trying to pinching one out. It is probably the most difficult thing to face as you come to terms with serving time in an English jail, the sheer lack of privacy at any time – but especially in the moment that you feel at your most vulnerable. So if you are at home reading this, give your bog an extra glug of toilet duck – you never know when you might miss it!
