Within minutes of being locked into their cells, the reality of their inferior status dawns on the Prisoners. They do not like it.
The realisation deepens at the first meal time. The food might be nutritionally adequate, but portions are small and it is badly cooked. A Prisoner, pNP, moans “Ain’t even cooked properly mate”. “You’ve got to laugh because if you didn’t you would just cry, wouldn’t you?” replies pGP.
After dinner, the Prisoners are locked back in their cells. One Prisoner, pPP, looks through the bars at the Guards. He wants a cigarette and knows that he will not get one for hours at best. He complains: “They come up with all these excuses as to why I can’t have a fag, and they’re all sittin’ out there wafflin’”. His cellmate pJE tells him that he is being tested and that he is “falling for it”. “I am falling for it”, acknowledges pPP, “hook, line and sinker”.
So the Prisoners are unhappy – but what are they going to do about it?
At this point a siren sounds and we make our first planned intervention…