Focus:Photographer, Environment, Social Media Editor, International News, Journalist Investigative, International Desk, Assignments, Investigation, International, Senior Photo Editor, Feature Journalist, Education Journalism, Arts Journalism, Environmental Desk, Deputy Director, Deputy Visual Research Editor, International Stories
Esmel Jean Hilaire, a 45-year-old inmate from France known as "the Teacher," has become a symbol of hope at La Modelo jail in Bogotá, Colombia. Self-taught, he teaches French to fellow inmates, using language as a tool for both personal redemption and multicultural exchange. His lessons bring purpose and unity to the prison community, offering a rare sense of connection and hope. Hilaire's impact was felt as he continued to inspire change from behind bars.
Camilo, an inmate at Central La Picota Penitentiary in Bogotá, Colombia, uses hip-hop to share his stories with the world. Camilo, like others, found in hip-hop a way to express the harsh realities of incarceration, social struggles, and personal growth. Writing lyrics or participating in rap sessions provides therapeutic benefits, offering emotional release, purpose, and a way to process experiences. His music raises awareness and fosters empathy, turning personal pain into a powerful voice for change.
A foreign inmate gazes at the horizon in the international inmates' patio at La Modelo jail, where many have been drug mules or couriers—individuals who personally smuggle contraband across borders for drug trafficking organizations—in Bogotá, Colombia.
An inmate diary is transforming into powerful hip-hop lyrics that empower both inmates and guards to share their stories and experiences with the world at Central La Picota penitentiary, the New Prison Complex in Bogotá, Colombia. Engaging in hip-hop activities, such as writing lyrics and participating in rap sessions, offers therapeutic benefits for inmates. This creative outlet provides them with a sense of purpose and emotional release, helping them process their experiences. Through their lyrics, they shed light on the harsh realities of incarceration, social issues, and personal growth, raising awareness and cultivating empathy among listeners. This initiative not only gives voice to their struggles but also fosters connection and understanding in a challenging environment.
At El Buen Pastor prison in Bogotá, several children grow up alongside their incarcerated mothers. This penitentiary, located in the western part of the city, serves as a temporary home for children who are born and spend their early years behind bars. The children, aged from zero to three, attend daycare from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m. daily. However, outside those hours and on weekends, they must stay with their mothers in their cells, specifically in courtyard number four, designated for pregnant and nursing women. Here, 25 pregnant inmates and 33 others with newborns share this space.
Andres, an inmate, poses for a picture at the Central La Picota Penitentiary Complex in Bogotá, Colombia. Bogotá recorded 147,666 thefts out of the 364,531 that occurred nationwide. The city’s prisons face severe overcrowding, which worsens daily, compounded by insufficient infrastructure. In this environment, criminal gangs maintain control over various illegal activities.
That prisons are jointly governed by guards and internal power groups is not new. This type of penitentiary governance has been widely documented across different contexts. From *plumas* and *caciques* in Colombia, to the Mara leader in Honduran prisons, and the *Faxina* in Brazilian jails, these cases show that prisons operate under a social order where the state and prisoners share control over the penitentiary territory, ruling the common prison population with an iron fist.
An inmate at La Modelo prison in Bogotá in 2010 shared: “The most valuable thing were the cells, and you’d be offered one over time. If you wanted a middle or upper bunk, like the spot where you sleep, similar to a bunk bed, or a slightly better cell, you had to pay. Bunks ranged from 400,000 to 700,000 pesos, depending on if they were painted, had light, and so on. If you wanted a complete cell, the cost could be between one million and up to three million pesos. This was in patio 5, where I was, but for example, in patio 3, where the foreigners were, it was much better—a bunk could cost from 4 million. Even transferring someone from one patio to another had a cost. The guards charged between 3 and 5 million pesos, depending on how they saw you, if you had certain privileges."
A group of 77 Inmates are seen as they earn High School Degrees as part of their resocialization at Central La Picota Prison Complex in Bogota, Colombia.
A group of female inmates of El Buen Pastor jail celebrates the festivity of the Virgin of Mercy every year with games and playful activities dances, this is the first one during the COVID-19 pandemic in Bogota, Colombia. In light of the ongoing crisis in the Colombian prison system, some proposals may worsen the situation. For instance, the suggestion to eliminate Inpec and Uspec, transferring their functions to the National Police, jeopardizes public safety. This would require the police not only to pursue and arrest criminals but also to monitor them in prisons, potentially creating a cycle of corruption and inefficiency, similar to issues seen in some Central American countries where police also guard inmates.
The practices at the district jail do not alleviate the burden of confinement or the restrictions on movement, but they provide a dignified life for inmates in a country where the prison population is overcrowded by 53% and good conditions in prisons are often compromised.
A group of female inmates of El Buen Pastor jail celebrates the festivity of the Virgin of Mercy every year with games and playful activities dances, this is the first one during the COVID-19 pandemic in Bogota, Colombia.
John Camilo Duarte, "Mugre", 30 años, quien pasó más de 7 años en la cárcel, ahora en libertad condicional busca nuevas oportunidades como tatuador en Bogotá, Colombia. La Fundación Acción Interna, creada en 2013 para gestionar segundas oportunidades a la población carcelaria colombiana, hasta la fecha ha trabajado en 31 cárceles de Colombia ayudando a más de 30.000 personas. El Restaurante Interno es un lugar de talleres donde los internos realizan todo tipo de actividades, desde manualidades, tejido, clases de informática, peluquería y tienda de tatuajes. Pero por la noche, la casa taller interna se convierte en un restaurante donde varios de ellos trabajan y empiezan a labrar nuevas oportunidades.
The practices at the district jail do not alleviate the burden of confinement or the restrictions on movement, but they provide a dignified life for inmates in a country where the prison population is overcrowded by 53% and good conditions in prisons are often compromised.
Crystal Mo'Rissa Stevens, an African-American singer who was once convicted of drug trafficking in Colombia, has found a new chance in music. As of November 18, 2020, she is on parole and working as a waitress at a restaurant in Bogotá. The Internal Action Foundation, established in 2013 to support the Colombian prison population, has made a significant impact, working in 31 prisons and helping over 30,000 people reintegrate into society. One of their initiatives, the Internal Restaurant, serves as a creative workshop where inmates can explore various activities, from crafts and knitting to computer classes, hairdressing, and even tattooing. At night, this vibrant space transforms into a restaurant, providing several inmates with the opportunity to work and start building a new future for themselves.
An inmate at La Modelo prison in Bogotá shared: “The most valuable thing were the cells, and you’d be offered one over time. If you wanted a middle or upper bunk, like the spot where you sleep, similar to a bunk bed, or a slightly better cell, you had to pay. Bunks ranged from 400,000 to 700,000 pesos, depending on if they were painted, had light, and so on. If you wanted a complete cell, the cost could be between one million and up to three million pesos. This was in patio 5, where I was, but for example, in patio 3, where the foreigners were, it was much better—a bunk could cost from 4 million. Even transferring someone from one patio to another had a cost. The guards charged between 3 and 5 million pesos, depending on how they saw you, if you had certain privileges."
The conditions at the Men's District Jail and the Women's Annex were recognized in May 2018 by the American Correctional Association (ACA), which certified the facility for its good practices in inmate care and the security standards of its staff. This was the first award of its kind given to a Latin American prison.
El Buen Pastor reflects the overall situation of incarcerated women in Colombia. Only six facilities house 42.5% of the female inmate population. The inadequate infrastructure, characterized by old and precarious facilities, combined with a staggering increase in the number of imprisoned women—which rose by 329% between 1990 and 2013—results in an overall overcrowding rate of 86%, thirty percentage points higher than that of male inmates in Colombia.
A foreign inmate in the international inmates' patio at La Modelo jail, where many have been drug mules or couriers—individuals who personally smuggle contraband across borders for drug trafficking organizations—in Bogotá, Colombia.
An inmate is seen playing basketball during regular activities at La Modelo jail, where many have been drug mules or couriers—individuals who personally smuggle contraband across borders for drug trafficking organizations.
“One learns that one must make different decisions in life. I am more tolerant now, and I know that if things are done wrong, they will be repeated,” says the man with the bull terrier, who claims to have gradually reduced his clonazepam consumption as per medical advice. He states that when he regains his freedom, all he thinks about is being with his four children. “The hardest part of prison is not being with the one you love,” he asserts.
A female inmate, tattooed with the acronym "TQM" (Te Quiero Mucho) at El Buen Pastor jail, celebrates the Virgin of Mercy festival every year with games, playful activities, and dances. This year marks the first celebration during the COVID-19 pandemic in Bogotá, Colombia.
PLAY
STOP
GRID
FULL
Close
Public Project
BehindBars
Copyright
Juancho Torres
2024
Updated Oct 2024
Topics
Spotlight
"Behind Bars" is a long-term photojournalism project capturing life inside Bogotá’s men’s, women’s, and mixed prisons. The project exposes the struggles, and rehabilitation programs, while also revealing moments of resilience, community, and creativity within the prison walls. Bogotá’s prisons are plagued by overcrowding, with the system operating at 53% overcapacity. Inmates live in deteriorating facilities where access to basic necessities is limited, and unsanitary conditions prevail. Healthcare services are inadequate, and rehabilitation programs are scarce, making reintegration into society a challenge. Many prisons are controlled by internal power groups, with guards sharing authority in maintaining a tense balance between order and chaos. Despite these oppressive conditions, prisoners find ways to adapt—pursuing education, creative expression, and forming bonds within their confined communities.