I had started my Open University (OU) studies prior to my conviction. I had completed the first of six years and had begun my second year just prior to my incarceration.

I was fortunate that the various men I shared a cell with were happy for me to continue my studies. One of them took inspiration from my studying and is currently halfway through his own BA (Hons) undergraduate degree.

To be denied my liberty hit me very hard. I had made a number of suicide attempts, thinking that my life was over. In fact, my time in prison was an opportunity to reassess my life, a time to take stock and see how I could make a meaningful contribution to society, having decided to turn my life around.

After being made redundant from my job, the original reason for starting the course was to improve my chances of securing work. Life with a criminal record is hard enough, anything one can do to augment the chances of employment should be seized with both hands.

Being banged up for long periods means that you have the opportunity to use the time wisely in an attempt to better your prospects when your release comes around – an energy-sapping alternative is to be sucked into the mind-numbing vortex of drivel that is broadcast on the terrestrial channels in the form of daytime tv and soap operas.

Access to the education department to support the learning process seemed to be very hit and miss (one of my TMAs [tutor-marked assessments] sat on someone's desk for ten days as the deadline came and went, but I had handed it in). It was a shame that the ‘support’ staff and I weren't on the same wavelength with regard to priorities. Why should they care? I’m someone who has committed an offence, and as such deserves to be locked up. Why should they exercise their duty of care, when not to do so, is a far easier option? I found that the enthusiasm of the prison education staff was not always mirrored by that of the wing staff.