[Rowe] Mauritius, a tropical island.
[prison cell door slams]
Home to Melrose Maximum Security Prison,
where 800 of the country's worst drug smugglers,
sex offenders and murderers are locked up.
[in Mauritian Creole] We burned her,
with car tires, petrol and that's all.
This is no island paradise for the inmates.
Every convict is watched day and night.
Inmates are denied any privileges, even cigarettes.
This is a prison. This is not Mama's house.
And the smallest infringement of the rules is met with harsh punishment.
They are frightened of the new regime and the new rules.
My name is Raphael Rowe.
I'm going to spend a week locked up here to find out what it's like
to be a prisoner in this extreme regime,
but it's not my first time behind bars.
I was convicted in the UK of a murder I didn't commit
and sentenced to life with no parole.
It took me 12 long years to clear my name.
Now I'm traveling the globe to discover what life is like
inside some of the world's toughest prisons.
[motorboat hums]
Mauritius is a small island off the east coast of Africa.
Blessed with a tropical climate and golden beaches,
it's a luxury holiday destination.
And the government wants to keep it that way.
There's a tough attitude to crime here.
[police siren wails]
They take crime and punishment very seriously.
I mean, for a country that has such a small population
of just over a million people,
it's incredible that they have 12 prisons.
Despite this, for many years,
Mauritian prisons were flooded with drugs and controlled by the inmates,
not the guards.
[prison gate slams closed]
Then, three years ago, it all changed.
The government appointed a new prisons commissioner,
who vowed to change the system.
[police, prisoners clamoring]
And he didn't waste any time showing who was now in charge.
[police dogs barking]
He sent in helicopter SWAT teams to raid the prisons,
seize drugs, contraband and thousands of mobile phones
before destroying them very publicly with steamrollers.
Overnight, the new commissioner brought in a tough new regime
and all prisoner privileges were taken away.
But does this zero-tolerance system work?
And what's it like to be a prisoner here?
Just wouldn't associate what I'm seeing right now
with such a beautiful island.
The walls surrounding this place,
keeping prisoners inside,
are serious,
and just this visual presence scares you.
My first stop is New Wing,
where all new inmates are processed before being sent off to the prison
where they'll serve time.
I'm entering this place as a Category A prisoner.
Something I was when I was in prison back in the UK.
This means I'm viewed as a high-risk prisoner.
New inmates are one of the easiest ways to smuggle contraband into any prison.
-I'm going to search you. -Okay.
You need to remove all your clothes. Shoes, one at a time.
If you've cigarettes in your possession, it's not allowed.
So what-- What is-- What is it that you are trying to find?
Mobile phones, illicit drugs,
and perhaps sometimes weapons.
Knives, some pieces of blades.
That's all.
Give it to me.
Not only have I been stripped naked, I feel kind of humiliated.
[camera shutter clicks]
But by simply putting on this orange prison uniform,
I'm no longer...
a free person.
I've become theirs.
This intrusive process is good preparation for what I'm about to experience.
The last thing you're given is a box with a change of clothes
and a toothbrush.
All you'll need for life behind bars, here in Mauritius.
Fully processed, I'm now being transported to Melrose,
the highest-security prison on the island.
Opened in 2014, at a cost of 80 million dollars,
it's built to hold almost 1,000 serious criminals.
This fortress contains drug dealers, murderers and violent sexual predators.
[Rowe] Who will I be with?
Will there be people there threatening me? Will there be drugs?
How dangerous is the place I'm about to go to?
And you really don't know.
You can hear all the rumors and I've heard the rumors
about the discipline in this place.
But I really don't know what I'm about to step into.
In this prison, there are 266 officers.
One for every four inmates.
Twenty-foot-high walls,
armed watchtowers,
miles of electric fencing,
and a 24-hour surveillance center.
Melrose boasts that it's the most secure prison in Africa.
[Rowe] You have armed officers
-in the watchtowers. -Yes, in the watchtowers.
And they have permission to shoot
-if somebody just escaped? -Yes. Yes, yes.
No one's allowed to approach the wall.
It's weirdly quiet.
There's no hum of prison like I'd expect.
And it's immaculate. It's really tidy.
[birds chirping]
Listen to the sound of the birds tweeting.
I've been allocated to an accommodation block
that holds both local Mauritians and foreigners.
First stop is the communal area.
I'm struck by how tense the atmosphere feels.
There's none of the usual banter or noise.
A prisoner called Phils has been assigned to show me around.
Hello.
-Hello. -You are Phils?
-Yes. -Hi.
-I'm Raphael.
Welcome.
Okay. Thank you.
[hushed chatter]
It's, um...
It's a bit eerie, actually.
How long are you out here for?
I'm here for 12 years now.
-Oh, you've been in prison for 12 years? -For 12 years, yeah.
That's a long fucking time, 12 years.
Yeah. [indistinct] Twelve years.
I sent here for 15 years.
The government's zero tolerance of crime
means many prisoners are serving very long sentences.
What did you get 15 years for?
Drug case.
-Drug case. -Yeah.
By importation?
Importation.
What kind of drug?
-Heroin? -Heroin.
Yeah.
It must have been a lot of drugs to get 15 years.
Yeah, 15 fucking years.
Okay, this is the wash area is it?
Wash area, yes.
And this wash area is for how many guys?
You all share this... just two sinks?
Yes.
All the prisoners on this block
are expected to share these very basic facilities.
What's that up there on the wall?
That is a camera.
-So you're watched by the guards. -Yeah.
The facilities might be basic,
but the prison has a state-of-the-art CCTV system,
keeping tabs on every prisoner 24 hours a day.
The cells are dormitory-style in this prison,
and I'm allocated a bed next to Phils.
So, it'll be your... [indistinct]
So I would be your neighbor now.
-[Rowe] Okay. Okay. -[laughs] Yeah.
It's...
It's quite a big space.
[splutters]
I mean, there's room for how many guys? One, two, three, four--
-Ten. -Ten guys?
Yeah.
Phils gives me the lowdown on how to survive around here.
Don't be out of the rule of this prison.
You can't smoke.
No cigarette in prison.
Or you get a problem with the officer.
You have to go to punishment because, uh, if you get out of the rule,
punishment will come to you.
There is no way, no one can help you.
It's only day one and I'm already discovering
that the prisoners are scared of the authorities.
There have been new rules introduced quite recently by a new commissioner,
who is, you know, stamping his sort of authority.
You know, ruling this place with an iron fist.
No one seems to be talking to each other.
It's quite oppressive and unfriendly.
But just the demeanor of some of the prisoners suggests
that they are frightened of the new regime and the new rules.
And this bed is fucking uncomfortable.
I can feel the metal under my ass right now.
-[lock engages loudly] -This is a cold welcome to Melrose.
I'm hoping that tomorrow
I can find out more about the rules Phils is so frightened of.
[lights disengage loudly]
[birds chirping]
It's my first morning and wake-up is at 6:15 sharp.
Last week, someone overslept,
which is not tolerated under the new regime.
He got five days in solitary.
-One day for every minute he was late up. -[morning horn wails]
This feels more like an army camp than any prison I've known.
It's eerily quiet in here.
Still no one's talking.
No one's doing little deals in the corner like in other prisons.
These inmates are keeping their heads down so they don't get noticed.
There is an air of depression in this room that is so difficult to express right now.
It's like it's depression on top of depression on top of depression.
It's like a virus.
[lock disengages]
It's strange seeing everyone carry their plastic tubs out of the dorm.
Would you-- Why do you take these things?
This is your bag. You have to-- Everything you have to keep inside.
[AM radio squawking]
Locked out of our cells for the day,
I've also got to carry anything I might need in one of these boxes.
Breakfast is quick, and from what I'm seeing, pretty basic.
I remember, as a kid, my dad used to say when I was naughty,
"If you don't stop, you'll end up in prison,
and all you'll get is bread and water."
Many, many, many years on, that's exactly what this is.
-[water trickling] -[Rowe spits]
Keeping inmates busy by working them hard to a tight timetable
is central to the Melrose regime.
[low chatter]
This morning,
I've been told to join prisoners making shoes for the guards.
It's my chance to find out more about how the prison economy works.
I'm looking for a Jean Michael. Do you know Jean Michael?
-Yes, it's me. -Oh, you are Jean Michael?
-Yes. -Hi, I'm Raphael.
-Yes. -Nice to meet you.
-Oh, man, you got a firm grip. -Yeah. [laughs]
You're breaking my hand. That was painful.
I'm seeing for the first time,
it looks like you guys are making shoes or doing something with leather.
Yes, we make the shoes of officers.
-Every year, we must make 1,800 pairs. -[repeated hammering]
Wow.
Jean Michael is a heroin dealer
who has four more years to serve of his thirteen-year sentence.
Is it your first time in prison?
No, the second time.
-Second time? -Yeah, second time.
So, you didn't learn your lesson the first time?
No, I didn't learn the lesson the first time.
Inmates are paid just three dollars a week
for their work in prison.
It's not much money for long hours of intensive work,
but it's all they have to spend on extras.
Before, our family can deposit 1,000 rupees, 2,000 rupees.
You understand?
But now, the new commissioner is stopping.
He said--
The new commissioner has stopped
-families supporting prisoners. -Yes, yes.
Uh...
our commissioner feels that this is a better way.
And is it? Do you think the prisoners agree with that?
No.
-They don't? -No, no. I'm not agree.
But there's not much to spend money on anyway.
The goods found in most prison canteens, which can make life a little better,
have been slashed to just a few essentials under the new regime.
Was it easier before, under the previous regime, then?
Yes. Before, it was easier.
And-- And what impact has that had on, on the prisoners and the prison
and the environment? I mean...
It's-- It's not easy for us... before.
But some people would say that's what prison's about.
It's about punishment.
You shouldn't have access
-to luxury items like Weetabix. -Yes.
You know, that's what some people would say.
Yes, yes, outside, they say that.
They say that we are in a five-star hotel here.
From what I'm seeing, this is a place of forced work
and is far from being a luxury hotel.
[Rowe] You're not burning your hand?
[Jean Michael speaks Mauritian Creole]
[in English] You must know how to handle it.
[Rowe] Okay.
[hammering]
Okay.
[hammering continues]
[Rowe yelps]
[inhales sharply]
-It's the technique, isn't it? -[Jean Michael] Yeah, careful.
I'm burning, you can see I'm terrified. Look at me. I'm like a pussycat.
[yelps, hisses]
Okay, that's enough. I've burned my thumb.
[laughs]
All finished shoes must be quality-tested by an officer.
[hammering in background]
[pronounced stepping]
[man] Good. Very nice.
So, who made that? You?
[Jean Michael] Yes.
A combination of me
-and 40 other prisoners, actually. -[man] That's good.
Prisoners here are clearly expected to work hard.
Those that won't submit and stick to the rules
get a stint in the notorious solitary confinement cells.
I want to find out more about it from Jean Michael.
Hey, you can get ten days,
four-- fourteen days, twenty days,
and when... when you... you go there,
in-in-in daytime, they take your mattress
uh, from you and they leave you in... in the cell.
-So you can't even lie down? -No, they put water in the cell.
-Water? -Yes, so that you... you can't sit down.
-So you have to stand up? -Yes.
-They put water on the floor. -Yes, the floor.
-Understand? -And that's part of the punishment?
-Yes. -And that can happen every day
-for five or ten days? -Every day, every day, every day.
Till you are there.
[Rowe] So, they--
There's something... I-I-I can't talk because...
-Okay. Okay. -See.
Now I can talk because no one is here.
-Okay. -You understand?
-Okay. -Yeah.
Yeah, it's very hard.
What did you do to end up in there?
They get telephone with me.
-Oh, you got caught with a telephone? -Yes.
-One of those little ones? -No, no, the big one.
-Oh. -Yes.
[low chatter]
It's been an interesting workshop, that's for sure.
Not only have I learned
-how to make leather shoes... -[guard] Okay.
...but I found out a lot about this prison.
What I'm learning is that there's a hard edge to Melrose Prison
if you fall foul of the new regime and its rules.
I'm back in my block with Phils for dinner at 3:30 sharp.
-Okay. -First, for your bread.
-[Rowe] One... Two bread? -Yeah, two bread. You get two bread.
-Thanks. Okay. -This is your evening food.
Oh, it looks like pasta.
[Phils] Yeah. And, uh, here you get some soup.
Inmates are queuing quietly,
but I'm getting used to the weird lack of noise.
-[low murmuring] -[birds chirping]
A fellow inmate, Peter,
reveals to me everyone is so subdued because of the latest rule:
A total smoking ban.
When they stopped, uh, the cigarettes in the prison,
myself and some of the guys, we started smoking leaves,
just to get that, um, what would you say, the craving away.
But the... The thing that you...
Every time when you finish food you need a smoke.
-Or when you finish your tea... -Yeah.
...you need a smoke like that, just to get that off.
But they're more bad for you than anything else.
-Everybody suffered the same thing. -True.
Everybody's suffering the same thing, sir.
In every prison I spent time in, cigarettes are hugely important.
A tiny pleasure for many inmates and an informal currency.
They've banned cigarettes.
There are some prisons that I know would riot
if they dared suggest withdrawing cigarettes.
Melrose is so determined to maintain total control
over the prisoners that overnight, it removed the inmates' right to smoke.
It's all part of stopping the illicit prisoner economy,
but it feels extreme.
[crickets, birds chirping]
It's the start of my third day in Melrose.
I've been assigned to the furniture workshop today
and find myself alongside Peter, who is a drug smuggler.
[Rowe] You're doing the other job?
I want to know why everyone seems so scared.
One of the things that has, in the time that I've been here...
-Okay. -...that is really worrying me,
or I can't quite put my finger on,
and it's what you're doing right now, Peter,
-which is the whispering conversation. -Yeah.
It's like if you're overheard, you're exposing yourself to something.
What is it that I'm whispering? Why am I whispering?
-Why am I having squirreled conversations? -Um...
Like, I can't be myself. I have to behave.
And you're-- You're doing that smile now, where you know what I'm talking about.
-[laughs] Yeah. -What is it? What is it?
Um...
Put it this way, fear of retribution.
Fear of retribution?
-That's it, yeah. -By prisoners or prison officers?
Uh, the administration.
Administration.
The retribution the prisoners fear most
is being locked up in the prisoner's punishment cells.
[Rowe] The thing I'm hearing is, since the new commissioner took over,
his, you know, running of prisons across the country,
that the-- That the kind of discipline
through rules that he's introduced has really caused a stir.
He's not appeasing the public.
He's appeasing the people that... that have put him in place.
That is the whole thing. It's like "Oh, it comes down to politics."
-Yeah. Okay. -It always comes down to politics.
Yeah.
Makes you think, doesn't it?
Melrose's fierce reputation of extreme punishment for bad behavior
is clearly what's intimidating the inmates I've met.
Anyone who breaks the rules,
from oversleeping to being caught with a phone or even smoking a cigarette,
gets banged up in the most feared corner of the prison:
The Special Protection Unit or SPU.
[in Mauritian Creole] Show him in here, get the keys.
You. Come!
I'm being shown this grim place as a warning by the commanding officer.
[in Mauritian Creole] If you disobey,
if you commit an offense,
you'll be condemned.
If we find contraband on you,
like a cigarette,
you are sent here for 16 days.
You've been warned.
There's no getting out of it.
-[in English] You'll be here. -Okay.
If I offend,
I'll be locked up here alone for 23 hours a day.
It brings back memories of my own time inside.
Dead space.
This is what this is. This is dead space.
This is somewhere where your thoughts bounce off of the wall.
This is somewhere where you find it hard to breathe.
This is somewhere where you know you are being punished.
'Cause I experienced this many times myself.
So my heart's racing. My mind is remembering.
You either have it in you to cope with it
or you don't.
You can scratch at the walls, bang at the doors.
It gets worse if you do that, and believe me,
I've done it, so I know.
[lock engages loudly]
I need to ask some serious questions.
[Rowe] One of the prisoners here told me
that when they're not behaving down here,
that one of the forms of punishment is to put water on the floor.
-No, no. -So when you take the mattress out,
they can't lay on the bed. You put water on the floor,
so they can't lay on the floor. That doesn't happen?
No, no, no, no.
[in Mauritian Creole] As far as I know, this never happens here.
And I have never seen this.
Never.
He is lying.
After all my years behind bars,
I'm not sure I believe this denial.
The dreadful reputation of the Special Protection Unit
does a pretty effective job of keeping the inmates compliant.
What did you do?
I... refused to swallow.
-[man] Methadone. -Methadone.
-Oh, you're an addict. -Yes.
Oh, you're a drug user. Why? If they're trying to help you.
Trafficking it. Methadone.
-That's what you're in for? -Yes.
How long are you gonna be in here for?
Tomorrow, I get out.
-How long have you been here? -Ten days.
What's it like?
It's okay.
This is okay?
It's okay, man.
That's a lie.
That's not okay. That's punishment.
I can see it in your eyes. Your eyes look like...
you're a contained animal.
You can't deal with the new rules, so you're getting yourself in trouble.
Out of law.
I'm an outlaw.
And you are all by yourself.
Yes.
And that's painful.
Yes, painful.
-And your eyes tell me that. -Yes.
It's dark in there. Do you not have no light?
You can light it.
Oh, but-- Can I turn it on?
Yes.
Okay, so you don't have no mattress in there?
In the evening.
-Oh, you get it in the evening. -Yes.
So you lie down, you lie down on the hard metal... Metal.
Yes. I walk.
You just walk?
Good luck, man.
Okay. Thank you.
-Thank you for talking to me. -Yes.
-You must be always left... -The left.
-...because I am a "right" man, okay? -You hit me with your right--
No! I can defend my--
Are you getting this? I have to always be on his left
because he's a right-handed man.
Have you had to use that before then?
No, I don't use.
-Yes, you have. -I don't.
-Yes. You've never punched a prisoner? -No.
[birds chirping]
Everything I'm experiencing
tells me that Melrose is a prison that inspires fear.
Catching up with Jean Michael,
I wonder how he copes with this place.
Turns out, he has a unique approach.
Inside my head, I have a friend...
-Okay. -...named Chica.
-Chica? -Yes.
And, uh, Chica accompany me for all nine years in prison.
I talk with... with Chica in myself, uh, alone.
I say, "Chica, what we'll do now?
We already sentenced 13 years.
Family gone. Wife gone.
Everything lose. House, money, finish.
Now I'm here. What to do?"
Is Chica a woman or a man?
-A woman. -A woman.
Yes. Chica is a woman.
-Okay. -[chuckles]
What does Chica look like?
Hey, very good, man. [laughs]
-A princess. -Princess.
-Yes. -Okay.
And that's helped you cope with your sentence?
Yes.
Now, uh...
Till now.
When I'm talking to you, Chica's with me.
-Okay. -But I don't tell anyone.
-You told me. -I tell no one.
Yes, I told you because you're a friend like me.
-Okay. -Yes, I will not talk to...
to an official like this.
Would that get you in trouble?
Do you think they will try to...
No, they would take me like a fool.
Say, "Hey, this man is talking that, he has a friend inside," you see?
Yeah, but actually it's a clever way of coping with your sentence.
Yes.
Chica, the imaginary friend.
Sunday is a day off from laboring in the workshops,
but no time to rest.
Today, our block must attend a group therapy meeting.
[low chatter]
[man in Mauritian Creole] Let's take a chance.
[group] Let's take a chance.
-[man] To rebuild. -[group] To rebuild.
-What we've destroyed. -What we've destroyed.
-And give meaning. -And give meaning.
-To our lives. -To our lives.
[inmates applaud]
Officially, this is a place for inmates to discuss their worries.
But it's also a chance for the welfare officer
to find out what's on the prisoner's minds.
Today, they're discussing the smoking ban that the prison says improves health.
So, it's a good thing or a bad thing that the, uh, implementation has?
We feel bad because the way they stop it was not good.
The way they stop it, it was very bad for us
because there was-- It was a stop.
A stop. No delay, nothing.
[in Mauritian Creole] They stopped cigarettes straight away.
To intimidate us, helicopters flew in.
[inmates laugh]
They abseiled off the choppers like in a movie.
They shouted, "Who are the bosses? Get on the ground!"
We were confused and scared.
Because it wasn't done for people's health.
It was done for something else, sir.
It was only done because of the "trafficking"
that was going on in prison,
um, and the cigarettes that were being used.
We physically worked in the workshops for those cigarettes.
For the 16 cigarettes or 10 or 12, however much it would be.
So it wasn't that we were getting it for free.
We were not getting it for free, we were working for it.
It seems odd that everyone is freely voicing their opinions here
given how scared they are saying anything most of the time.
You say it starts and it finishes here and that's a good thing to hear.
But I wonder if there is an undercurrent of consequences when you do speak out.
[man in Mauritian Creole] For what I've just said,
please check on me tomorrow. If I'm still here, I'm safe.
-[inmates laugh] -But if they say Rene can't be found,
you know I'm in trouble.
There's a lot of frustration among the...
the prisoners here.
There's nothing they can do apart from voice their opinion.
I don't believe that anything they say about the rules
will have any effect on the authorities.
This is clearly a prison that knows how to keep inmates in their place.
[whimsical lounge music plays]
[birds chirping]
But it's not completely bleak.
Behave yourself and there are the occasional small rewards on offer.
[man] Breathe out.
Philip Wang has been a Tai Chi instructor for over 30 years.
He's not a prison officer,
but he's seen enough to believe a privilege like this
can help change lives.
And exhale.
Why do you do it?
Most people think that these guys should be in here
-and left to rot. -Yeah.
One day they have to return back to their families.
To their community.
We have to help them do the right thing.
Are there any prisoners that you won't accept on your class
because of their behavior or because they're a control problem
or because they may be a threat
-to your program? -You know, we don't judge them.
We just love them.
We have the love they don't receive from outside.
We give it inside.
Even the Commissioner of Prisons phoned me, a direct call.
He said, "Philip, I congratulate you. I've never seen prisoners
at five o'clock in the morning so committed to exercise."
[Rowe] Why don't they introduce it as compulsory?
Everybody could attend Philip's Tai Chi class once a week
in the yard, so you've got 800 prisoners.
Yes, that's our goal. That's our goal. You know that's our goal.
But we still have to walk little by little
for people to understand.
You know, we're here to help. That's all.
We're here to encourage you, that's all.
We're not here to judge you.
[Rowe] It's like a magnet.
Yes, you can feel that.
-I can feel that. -Yeah, yeah. Yes. Just... yeah.
In a few minutes, you'll feel that you're relaxed.
You're outside, you're not within the four walls.
Its purpose is to de-stress the mind and the body
and that's exactly what it does.
But more importantly, you know, if you want law-abiding citizens
to come out of prison,
this is something that can help achieve that.
It's my fifth morning, and I'm reporting to the kitchen.
Everything I've seen so far has been about the prison authorities
keeping the prisoners firmly under their control.
But comply with the rules
and there are some surprising opportunities on offer,
if you know where to find them.
I'm working with an inmate who has turned his life around
in the unlikely setting of the prison's pastry department.
So who will I be working with?
You will be working with this guy.
-This guy. -His name is Winley Barbe.
-Winley Barbe. -Okay?
Nice to meet you, Winley Barbe. That goes on.
Here I go. I can't dress myself. I need help.
We're making traditional Napolitaine biscuits
for officers only.
[in Mauritian Creole] Not too hard on the rolling pin.
Go lightly.
-Like that. -Okay.
What was you like before you discovered pastry?
Outside, I was a bad boy.
Stealing stuff, doing drugs,
lots of things.
I got five years for burglary.
How many times have you been to prison?
-[in English] Three times. -Three times.
[in Mauritian Creole] I have three kids by three different women.
You're a player, right? Huh?
I've left prison three times and made three kids.
Ignoring Winley's love life,
it's Winley's mum that's his true inspiration.
My mum used to be healthy.
But now she's got health problems.
Blood pressure, diabetes, heart disease.
She told me to change
before she passes away.
So I decided to change.
There is nobody more important to us than our mothers.
Winley is determined to make this his last prison sentence.
As soon as he started working in the kitchens,
he discovered his love of pastry.
He's taken full advantage of the system
of compulsory work by devoting the last two years
to learning pastry-making from scratch.
This is rehabilitation at its best.
I work hard here because I've realized
how it's helping to change my life.
I came here to learn pastry.
I'm the "Master of Pastry" now.
Despite no experience before his time in prison,
Winley has just gained a national diploma in pastry-making
earning a distinction.
[Rowe] Wait for that? Twelve minutes?
[low chattering]
In prison, you rarely hear that your mum is proud of you.
But mine is proud of me.
Winley's getting out in two months
and plans to make a new life on the outside as a pastry chef.
I really hope he makes it.
I want to be boss...
of my own pastry business.
You're not gonna be tempted by drugs and crime anymore?
[in English] Positive thinking.
Take with this, and hold with this. Okay.
Over here.
Mm.
Oh, this smells so good.
The prison cannot force prisoners to change.
They can give them opportunities, um, or reward them.
But it takes an individual to want to change
and he has found something in prison that has given him a new purpose in life.
Melrose houses the most serious criminals in Mauritius.
But even the strict rules and regime here cannot contain some of the prisoners.
Instead, they're kept in the Phoenix Unit,
a facility designed to hold the worst of the worst.
I've heard one of the country's most notorious killers is held in it,
and I'm going there to meet him.
Thirty-four-year-old Nazarene Tenge
was moved here after setting fire to his Melrose cell
and repeatedly attacking inmates.
He has been incarcerated since 2004
for raping and then strangling two women to death.
He has allegedly boasted to guards of other murders,
but, as yet, they're unproven.
I'm feeling very nervous of meeting a man
described as a monster.
Knowing a little bit about what he's in there for,
I don't want to touch his hand,
so I've asked the guard to make sure that he knows that.
-Are we good? -Yeah, yeah.
-Let's go? -Yeah. Okay.
[tense music plays]
Shall we...
Shall we sit down?
Am I in danger sitting here talking to you?
[in Mauritian Creole] No, there's no problem.
Why did you kill two women?
On that day, I was with my friends
and we were very drunk,
smoking pot,
drinking booze.
I don't know what we were doing.
We went to a nightclub,
and we continued to drink.
We met that girl.
She gave us a price for her time with us.
We agreed.
We took her to Balaclava Bay.
And that's where the others sodomized her.
To not get charged by the police for sodomy,
we decided to destroy her.
We didn't just kill her for nothing.
Was it you that strangled her?
Yes, I strangled her.
How did you feel at the time that you were strangling this woman
knowing that you were taking her life?
We strangled her, killed her, burned her, destroyed the body.
We burned her!
We burned her,
with car tires, petrol and that's all.
And then you killed again?
When I'm having fun with my friends,
drinking, eating,
doing everything together,
that's when we tend to commit brutal offenses.
Do you have any remorse?
Yes, I do.
I would say that I am sick.
I'd say that if my family took me to a doctor when I was younger,
I'd have been better.
They didn't know where to take me.
They thought I was possessed.
That some people put an evil spell on me.
Cut.
I find it very hard to hear about such terrible crimes.
Tenge is serving two life sentences,
and the prison system is managing him with medication,
to prevent violence against himself and others.
He'll spend the rest of his days in solitary confinement.
The public need to know that men like that are off the streets.
That men who ooze this kind of evil,
are going to spend the rest of their lives in prison.
And he will. He will rot in prison.
He will die in prison.
There is no rehabilitation, in my view, for men like that.
And so containment is all you've got.
On my final morning back at Melrose,
I'm with Pastry Chef Winley.
His model behavior has earned him an extra visit from his mum this month.
She's excited about his imminent release
and still can't quite get over his life-changing transformation,
thanks to this toughest of prison regimes.
[in Mauritian Creole] I know that you've changed.
I'm thankful for the chance
this prison has given you to do something.
You've learned a lot about yourself and life.
Understand?
How you were and how you've evolved.
I'm happy.
So happy for you.
Hey, don't cry. You need to be strong.
You are strong.
Winley's youngest son, Weylon,
has also made the visit, along with Grandpa.
[mother] Come on, talk to Daddy.
Speak with Daddy.
-Say, "Hi, Dad." -[Winley in Mauritian Creole] Hello.
[chuckles]
[in Mauritian Creole] I love you.
And I love you so much.
[Weylon speaking in Mauritian Creole]
It's really moving to see the hope this family has
-of a life together outside prison. -[Weylon shouts]
When Winley leaves,
he'll be in better shape to face family life and build a future
and not return for a fourth stretch.
[in Mauritian Creole] I must clean my face.
It's okay.
It's my final day,
and I'm meeting Mr. Appadoo, the Commissioner of Prisons
and architect of the regime here, to talk about his zero-tolerance approach
at Melrose.
What is the purpose of prison in Mauritius?
What's the philosophy?
There were so many misconceptions in the prison,
like this one here in Melrose.
People thought there was a swimming pool here.
But it's not-- It's not the case.
It's a place where prisoners get punished.
It's a place where prisoners get rehabilitated.
They've got many opportunities,
so they've got to seize these opportunities.
The banning of cigarettes in prison has really affected the prisoners.
Why is that necessary?
Um, cigarettes is what was the currency in the prison.
All the fights over there was for cigarettes.
So when somebody would have cigarettes, you have somebody coming in with a weapon,
would put up under his neck,
and would snatch his cigarettes.
I've created a justice in prison.
You know, I sleep with prison in my head.
Every day, I come to see what I can do for the prisoners, for my staff as well.
In the prison, you have...
You need to have a strict regime.
They are being deprived of their liberty.
But being deprived of their liberty means
deprived of many things that you have to enjoy in society.
This is a prison. This is not Mama's house.
People in the prison should be afraid of the punishment you have.
If they are not afraid here of any punishment or anything,
they will create a havoc in the prison.
There is no small prisoner. There is no big prisoner.
Everybody is in the same level, and this is being very much appreciated
by the prisoners themselves.
There's a fine line between between being strict
and ruling with an iron fist.
My role as Commissioner of Prison,
as a citizen,
I make sure that people are afraid of coming in prison.
He had the eyes of a man that is driven by the passion of his job.
He wants to change the lives of prisoners, the perception of the public.
And he doesn't shy away from how he's doing that.
Discipline is necessary.
My time here is up,
and I feel I've learned a lot about how the system works in Mauritius,
and the tough rules that set Melrose apart.
Like many prisons, this place is tough if you don't follow the rules.
But unlike many other prisons, it doesn't just talk about rehabilitation,
it actually does it.
And I think that's a pretty impressive ambition.