Scars and blades just part of life locked up

MY daily prison routine began with no frills.

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Prisoners woke up at 6.30am and headed to the communal shower area.

Nothing could have prepared me for discovering what that pot in the corner of my room was really for, as I stood in line watching men depositing faeces and urine from their chamber pots into big sinks.

What did I expect? Proper sanitation? A disgrace, it was.

From that morning onwards I would worry about who was standing at my back.

I needed eyes in the back of my head to avoid some scarface pouring his p*** and s*** on me.