Daniel Holmes: A Memoir From Malta's Prison: From a cage, on a rock, in a puddle...

by Daniel Holmes

  My parents have attended some of the group sessions and have gained support by meeting other ordinary families with loved ones detained overseas. People who were totally out of their depth with the bureaucracy of the situations they have found themselves in, and with little support from the Foreign Office, were given useful practical help and advice by Prisoners Abroad.

  There are UK citizens in prison abroad in dire physical circumstances and Prisoners Abroad tries to make sure they have essential items for a humane existence in inhumane surroundings: water, medicines, toiletries, and even food and clothing in some countries. This is a great comfort to families who would otherwise feel helpless to give support to their loved ones. There was not a single birthday or Christmas when Prisoners Abroad didn’t send me a card and reaffirmed that they were always thinking about me.

  Their quarterly magazine, sent to everyone registered with them, kept us connected to each other’s stories and gave us news from back home. It also gave us a forum to share our stories, poems and artwork. There are crossword puzzles, Sudoku, articles on such things as yoga in the prison cell, procedures for transferring home and meditation.

  When the Maltese prison would no longer allow us to receive vitamin supplements from outside, Prisoners Abroad worked with the Consulate and found a way to get them into prison for me, cutting through the red tape. I must say that vitamin tablets are available to buy inside the prison but at more than double the retail price and with so few funds available to me, I could not afford them. When no one else helped, Prisoners Abroad did. When many others judged, they didn’t. Such tireless work from such wonderful people.

  Support was truly breathtaking. My family struggled to keep up with making DVDs of photocopies of media coverage about the case. I always received it a little while after it happened, but it was so amazing and heartwarming to see and hear it all. I had my darkest moments, but these events kept my soul alive.

  My story was even picked up by The Guardian and The Daily Mail in England and newspapers in my homeland of Wales. It was through walesonline.co.uk that I was contacted by a man who was originally from my hometown but living in Scandinavia with his family.

  I did not know him, but he had often visited Malta on holiday. I received several parcels of DVDs and clothing and letters from him and he came to visit me here when he was on holiday. This was someone who had gone out of his way to show kindness and love. Would I have done this for someone I read about, I often asked myself? I hope so.

  It shames me to say that since leaving prison I have had little contact with all these people. The huge shock to me of how life is so technically advanced now, and the speed of life in general, means I am separated from society, by my non-connection with the digital world. I still do not own a smartphone. I struggle to play catch-up.

  While in prison I also received visits from people who were on holiday in Malta and had heard about my story. They’ve sometimes brought me magazines or fruit and we’ve spent half an hour or so chatting. Again, kind people who have given up their time for me. It was all very humbling.

  In 2013, I was contacted via my parents – who had out of necessity taken on the role of my agents in all this frenzy – by a reporter at The Times of Malta, who asked if I would be willing to give an interview on camera for a Maltese television programme called TimesTalk. I jumped at the chance to give a true account of events that the Maltese courts and lawyers would never let me tell.

  So, after many discussions back and forth by producers of the programme and the Ministry of Justice, we were granted permission to proceed with the interview and on October 10, 2013, I was called up to the administration block in the CCF and into an office that was to be my stage. I wasn’t really nervous as, after seven and a half years I was finally getting the opportunity to speak the truth. I spent the whole morning answering questions on camera and recounting my story.

  The programme aired on Maltese national TV nine days before the judgment on my appeal. Lying on my bed, watching myself on TV was a very strange feeling. The programme lasted an hour with presenters and guests discussing aspects of my case in Maltese while my segments appeared in English. I could hear whistles and calls from other prisoners in the Division celebrating my so-called stardom. The next day I was told I was famous; although I did point out that it was infamy and not quite the same.

  “Infamy, Infamy! They’ve all got it in for me,” as Kenneth Williams said in the movie Carry On Cleo.

  In the early days, there was so much hope and media attention over the case that we were convinced that something would change. Alas, nothing ever did, and after that first interview I gave many more: via the telephone to reporters in Malta and the UK, and to visits from reporters, students studying criminology in university and private bloggers.

  The interest I received was phenomenal. At one point, I am told that a Google search for “Prison in Malta” brought up my photo within the results.

  Will my family and I ever be able to move on, I wonder?

  My wife and parents have also given many interviews in the UK for newspapers and magazines who were interested in our situation in the hope that the publicity would bring help.

  The birth of our second daughter, Blossom, in 2014, again drew interest, I suppose with her being conceived in a prison. We were contacted by producers of the TV programme Prison Brides, about being included in one of their programmes.

  Again, after many emails and calls between the producers and the Ministry of Justice, we were granted permission for a filmed interview. Although, this time, they were more interested in the first meeting of me with my daughter, behind bars, than in the details of my case. My wife and parents in Wales also spent half a day being filmed at home, answering questions and chatting together over a family meal.

  So, on a rare visit in 2015 by my wife and children, reporters, film and sound crew were allowed into the prison to film the meeting of Blossom and me. I was grateful for the opportunity to get photos and video of the four of us together as a family, if only for a few moments, and of course as a record of the first time I had ever seen my daughter Blossom, who was already 89 days old.

  This was one of the main reasons my wife and I had agreed to the filming. On the one hand it would keep my case in the media but, for the main part, so that at least we would have these precious moments recorded.

  The episode was eventually aired in the UK at prime time on Channel 5 and on several American TV channels. There were four couples, three American who were filmed preparing for their weddings and us. We had been married already in 2012 and some of our photos were used, but they mainly concentrated on my first meeting with our new baby girl.

  After this emotional family meeting, we were filmed discussing a little of our situation, although by now the Maltese government had had enough of my outspokenness and we were told very firmly not to discuss prison conditions or my case but only how a family copes during the incarceration of one of its members.

  Only 16 days before the crew’s arrival I had been found in possession of a spy camera as I tried to film the inhumane and disgusting conditions within this prison so they could be brought to public attention. I was told I was very lucky that they did not put off the whole thing, but clearly, I had to toe the line.

  In August 2015, my eldest sister was instrumental in setting up a crowdfunding site via gofundme.com. Many people had suggested via Facebook that we do this, as they believed people would want a way to donate money to contribute to the many years of lawyers’ fees, court costs and the high fine that I had been given along with my custodial sentence.

  Again, the response was overwhelming and humbling. I don’t know how I will ever show my appreciation for the support we have received apart from thanking everyone here and hopefully by finding a way to support others in a similar situation.

  I was always adamant in my desire to write my story and get it out into the public domain. I knew that it was a story that had to be told and people seemed to want it tol
d. People were interested, not just in the case, but also the conditions in the prison, court proceedings and life behind bars in Malta in general. I also knew that until I was far away from the Maltese Islands, I would not be free to tell the whole story.

  In 2017, I had a phone call from my parents. They had been contacted by a reporter from Lovin Malta. Johnathan Cilia asked to come and see me in prison as he wanted to write an article about conditions at the prison. As always, I accepted. However, this meeting would turn out to be different from all the others – this was the beginning of a relationship, with Johnathan and with Lovin Malta, that would see this book published.

  Over the years Johnathan wrote many articles about my case and visited me in prison many times. I could always see in his eyes that he felt for my situation and cared for his island with a passion.

  He was the first friendly face I saw on leaving prison, even flying with me on the same flight, taking that first picture of myself in freedom.

  The first day of my release was spent with him and his film crew, where we shot the documentary The Long Road Home. He met my wife, children, entered our family home and was the first to see me take those first steps as a new man.

  These last few years the situation for journalists in Malta has been thrown into turmoil with the assassination of the journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia who was unearthing corruption at the top. It says a lot that journalists still work tirelessly to bring out into the public eye, those things the authorities would do anything to hide.

  We are all forever in their debt.

  Poetry in prison

  With the support of my family I was able to enter the International Welsh Poetry Competition in 2016 and was given a Highly Commended award for placing in the top 20, out of more than 500 contributors, for my poem “Simple Beauty”.

  Dave Lewis, the highly acclaimed Welsh poet, and judge of the International Welsh Poetry Competition, wrote these comments about this poem:

  During my first read through of all the competition entries, this poem really caught my attention.

  This poem was well crafted, without making it sound unnatural. What really grabbed me most was, as the title suggests, its “simple beauty”. “I came upon a small red flower, /I don’t know the day, or even the hour.”

  The poem reached out to me and pulled me in: “Such beautiful petals covered in dew, /I convinced myself that for me it grew”. And I really, really wanted the subject matter to be real. I desperately didn’t want to find out later that the author had just imagined this sort of scenario and not directly experienced these things themselves. It all felt real to me. Authentic.

  And I was moved when I found out it had been written by Daniel Holmes; a young man who has been unjustly sentenced in a Maltese prison for a minor offence. “The next day I returned but my flower was gone, /destroyed by this place, and all that is wrong.” Daniel is a talented and promising new writer, and he and his lovely family deserve our support.”

  In 2016, I entered the Koestler Trust Awards, through Prisoners Abroad. It is an art award scheme for offenders, secure patients and detainees in the UK, and British citizens overseas can also take part. It encourages creativity and the acquisition of new skills as a means to rehabilitation.

  It is called after its founder, the British-Hungarian author, Arthur Koestler, who had been detained in three jails in three countries. In Spain, he was sentenced to death for espionage. There, he witnessed many executions, and was held in solitary confinement. And setting up the award was one of the first things he did upon his release in 1962.

  I entered a few poems and a short story work entitled “From a Cage on a Rock in a Puddle”. I received a First Time Entrant Award for the poem “An Ode to Ink”, and another First Time Entrant Award for my short story. This time the award consisted of a certificate and a small financial reward, which went to my wife to be used for the children’s Christmas presents. All the entries are exhibited at The Southbank Centre in London.

  I took part again in 2018, and I received a Gold placement for my poem “The Ghost Inside”. That year was the year I was finally released from prison, so my family and I could travel to London and meet the people who make these awards possible. It was a proud moment for me being there with my children to see my work displayed.

  Prisoners Abroad have also been fantastic for publishing two of my poems in their quarterly magazine. It was amazing to see people’s reaction and encouragement, which have strengthened my desire to publish this book.

  I created the handle @daholmes and started using Instagram in December 2015 as a way of sharing my views, situation, frustrations, hopes and dreams via the media of poetry and verse. It gave me a purpose. Each day I wrote a short verse or quote, which I then read out during a phone call to my parents, who would then add a background picture and post it for me.

  It was really suggested to me by the Welsh poet, writer and naturalist, John Evans. He had read an article in The New York Times about Instagram poets and wondered if I’d like to try it.

  I quickly realised it gave me a voice from inside and put me in contact with many like-minded people and other budding poets. It’s felt good to be able to put my poetry out there where friends, family and other interested people could read it. It also gave my parents and me the possibility of working on something constructive together.

  In the beginning, I started writing haiku. I found it a good exercise to keep poetry tight, especially as I had to relay it over the terrible phone lines from the prison.

  Fellow contributors on Instagram tagged me from time to time to try different forms of verse, so I’d play with limericks, sonnets, lunes, classic pentameters, heroic sets and some old obscure Welsh forms. I tried free verse and tried to find my own style and rhythm.

  I’ve always been an avid reader of poetry, from old to new, and have always seen it as a way to convey to people my feelings, my hopes, fears, my darkest moments and to give my take on stories.

  I find it helps me focus my thoughts and back then it allowed me to take control of a small part of my life. A line from the Welsh National Anthem says we are a land of poets; a mountain of poets and singers. “Gwlad beirdd a cantorion” – and I feel that inside me.

  The feedback on Instagram has been very rewarding and through Instagram I came in touch with some great poets and photographers who have shown wonderful support.

  I’m still amazed, after my time in prison, how much the internet has grown and has become a medium for so many things, including this wonderful way of bringing writers together.

  What a scary new world I returned to! The one thing the Maltese prison has never prepared any of us for, is how much the world changes while we’re snatched away from it.

  The Green

  I’ve decided to include some information about the plant which caused the disproportionate sentence meted out to me in 2011, five and a half years after my arrest and subsequent detention on Malta. Like many others, I think that it is an amazing plant with so many beneficial properties, not just as a recreational drug.

  Cannabis, also known as the Indian Hemp Weed, is just one of millions of plants that grow on our planet. It grows in almost every country and in every climate of the world. It has been known, since ancient times, as “the Miracle Plant”, “the Sister of Man” and “the Gift from the Gods”, and is closely linked with human history.

  The oldest known record of cannabis use comes from China in 2727 BC. The ancient Greeks and Romans were also familiar with the plant, and in the sixteenth century it was imported to Chile by the Spanish for its use as a fibre.

  Cannabis is also called marijuana, pot, weed, ganja, Mary Jane, and other names.

  This is one of the oldest psychoactive substances used by man. The flower buds of the female plant can be vaporised, smoked, brewed in a tea or eaten, as they have a chemical compound called Tetrahydrocannabinol which stimulates the production of dopamine in the brain, known as the feelgood chemical.

  The two most comm
on species of cannabis are sativa and indica.

  Cannabis sativa grows wild throughout many tropical parts of the world and some types can reach 25 feet in height. It is a tall and slender plant with leaves that are thin and elongated. The sativa produces a more uplifting and energetic effect. It has also been linked with increased creativity.

  Cannabis indica is a stockier plant that has thicker foliage and its leaves are shorter and well-rounded. The effects of the indica plant are relaxing and sleep-inducing.

  There is a third, less common species called ruderalis, which originated in central Russia and is mainly grown in colder regions of Central Asia. Nowadays, thousands of different strains can be purchased, as all species of the plant can be crossed depending on the requirements of the end product.

  The rest of the plant can be used to make many useful products, without having to discard a single part, except for the roots:

  The stems are a great source of plant fibre, for rope, paper and fabric production.

  The seeds are one of the most nutritious foods known to man, as they provide all the essential amino acids and fatty acids necessary to maintain a healthy human life.

  Farming has four basic categories: food, fibre, fuel and medicine, which have now been mainly taken over by the production of synthetic materials, leading to huge levels of industrial toxic waste being produced, which destroy our land, sea and air.

  Cannabis is extraordinary as from one crop it spans all four of these categories. From one cultivated acre of hemp per year, 25 tonnes of biomass can be produced. An amazing feat.