“I don’t fear another man killing me here.”
-Wellington

(Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Wellington is a ‘recuperando,’ an inmate in a progressive Brazilian prison known as APAC (Associação de Proteção e Assistência aos Condenados). He feels safe here. APAC is a prison with 16 full time staff for 150+ inmates who guard themselves, cook for themselves, garden, make kites and chairs, give tours, and hold the keys to the front door. APAC is located between a dump on the left and a cemetery on the right. Prisoners joke that society feels the only future option for inmates is either the trash or the coffin. Either way they go, their fellow inmates are the ones guarding the doors to let them in or out.

The President of Itauna’s branch of APAC, Mr. Valdeci Antonio Ferreira, told us how he became involved with APAC.

“I’ve worked for 25 years with condemned men. When I went to see another prison today I realized that I am starting all over again, like I’m starting my first fight.”

Many communities reject APAC jails because they are uncomfortable with prisoners holding the keys to their own cells. Wellington told us that now people in Itauna “like living next to APAC. They have fewer problems with the prisoners that they do with their neighbors.”

Criminals who have committed a range of offenses, from homicide to robbery, are admitted into APAC. Some dispute the accuracy of the statistics, but APAC return rates are 8.4% compared with a national average of 80% and a world average of 70%. Between 300-400 people visit the prison each month to see how this is possible. The motto of the prison is “a man is greater than his errors.” Wellington echoed this sentiment, “ what crime I committed is not who I am.”

There are 24 APAC prisons in the State of Minas Gerais, more than 100 in Brazil and APAC has model prisons in over 27 countries across the globe.  The cost of one prisoner at APAC is $250 USD/month. The cost of one prisoner in a common jail in Brazil is about $1,000 USD/month. Prisoners in the ‘open-regimes’ are allowed to leave the prison every morning at 6am to work, go to the doctor, run other errands and must return back by 7pm. APAC prisons are divided into three regimes. These include open, semi-open, and closed. Each regime is not allowed contact with the other. In order to move up the ranks into the ‘open regime’ a prisoner needs to demonstrate good behavior and a commitment to APAC’s goals, irregardless of the crime he or she committed. Open regimes are coveted as they allow prisoners to work outside of the prison and see their families on a regular basis.  However, when an APAC prisoner leaves the premises he is usually accompanied by a volunteer. Out of 25,745 times this has occurred only 6 individuals have not returned back to the prison. Over a period of a few months, prisoners in the closed regimes, if they have good behavior, may be approved to move to the semi-open regimes and then eventually to the open regimes. APAC is trying to emphasize that these people are men and women who have the potential to change. They are not ‘just prisoners.’

Over 90% of inmates who first come to APAC have drug problems. Wellington spoke about the importance of religion for these prisoners facing tough circumstances.  He intimated there is a strong preference among convicted men for disbelief. But Wellington says he will keep his religious convictions alive. Yet, Wellington knows that however hard he may try to reform,  society will place a permanent stigma over him. He reminded me of a passage from the play  Life is but a Dream:

“Those stars, that too far up from human blame,
to clear themselves, or careless of the charge
still bear upon their shining shoulders all the
guilt men shift upon them.”

Prisoners face both these stigmas and stagnant prison conditions. The Floramar prison that the IBJ team covered earlier this Summer rioted the night we were at APAC. Prisoners cited reasons of overcrowding. Most prisons in Brazil are over capacity and swelling with more people each day. The law states that each prisoner should have 6m squared of personal space. A man might be greater than his errors, as APAC’s motto states, but he rarely has the space to prove it.

Before we left, a man named Guilherme gave us a tour of the semi-closed and closed regimes in APAC. He showed us the gardens where they grow their own food overlooking a valley. As we concluded the tour he reminded us,

“If we wanted to, the prisoners have the keys, we could all walk out of here right now.”

To date, only 6 ever have.

A sign on the wall reads: The prison is not behind bars, nor is liberty found in the street. There exist both imprisoned men among the streets and free men in prisons. It is a matter of conscience. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: Inmates spend time reading and strolling through the buildings. (Photos by Michelle Ferng)

Above: A staircase is shown leading out of APAC prison into the jail’s gardens where inmates are responsible for growing their own food in a semi-sustainable living program. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: An inmate savors a moment of solitude as he looks into the distant mountain range. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: Inmates are allowed to work with all sorts of heavy equipment and machinery in APAC’s furniture workshop — a rarity considering the fact that most other prisons take serious precautions against any personal possession of potential weapons. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: APAC inmates produce a number of goods for sale, ranging from furniture to sandals to bread. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: An inmate smiles from an office window above. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: Two security guards escort a prisoner to his trial at Forum, the civil and criminal courthouse in Divinopolis, Brazil. He is accompanied by Alessandro Garcia Silva (last photo, second left), a criminal prosecutor at Forum. Prisoners at Forum usually come from Presidio Floramar, an adult prison depicted here. (Photos by Michelle Ferng) 

“There are no romantic crimes anymore, no more crimes of passion. Crime is now about drugs.”

Lawyer Antonio Ailton Rosa explained the changes taking place related to crime in Brazil.

“Over the past two months there has been a crime wave,” he nodded, which has resulted “in more homicides at this point than all of last year.” According to his knowledge, “all this new crime is related to drugs.” Ms. Cecilia Neves Silveira, IBJ’s in-country contact, showed us a book of Brazil’s criminal code at Antonio’s office that defines 24 ways to be a drug dealer. Drug trafficking is not actually a ‘permanent crime,’ such as kidnapping where a criminal is committing an on-going offense that permits police officers to search a house whenever they choose. Under Brazilian law, arrests for non-permanent crimes can only be made during daylight hours with a warrant from a judge.  However, Antonio taught us that the police behave as if drug trafficking was a ‘permanent crime’ and they invade houses in the middle of the night without judicial permission.

“This behavior,” he told us, “results in many innocents being arrested.”

What is most interesting to Antonio, amidst all this crime, is “witnessing the beginnings of a criminal mind.”

(more…)

I needed money. A drug dealer wanted me to teach his dog how to bite. He paid me in cash. And so I did it. But the dog didn’t want to learn, it was hard work, but I taught the dog. One day the police came in searching for drugs. He’d stashed 50 kilos of weed in the dog’s house. I had to hope the dogs would bite.

- Bembem

(Photo by Michelle Ferng)

The police officers were too preoccupied with the dogs. They did not find the drugs. Bembem was allowed to walk out of the house with his life. Bembem is an older man who has been incarcerated so many times he lost count. He told his story of growing up in Brazil’s prison system:

“It doesn’t matter if you are in prison for one day, one week or one month, you are there one moment and you are part of the system for life.

(more…)

Above: Judge Dalton Soares, respected for his efficiency and service record, discusses the merits and distortions of Brazil’s legal system. Soares works in Divinopolis at Forum, a civil and criminal courthouse. 2008 JusticeMaker Aziz Saliba is producing a video in Divinopolis to educate the general public on habeas corpus and the legal profession on their options to appeal to the Inter-American Court. (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

The Civil Police in Brazil have different responsibilities under the Constitution from the Military Police and are responsible for conducting investigations. This station in Divinopolis has ten detectives. They receive approximately 80,000 cases a year.  (Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Over the past few days the IBJ team in Brazil has been conducting interviews with a number of judges, policemen and teachers. Each had a different area of expertise. Yet, when asked what would make their jobs a lot easier, all responded with the same answer, “better education” for their colleagues and the general public.

2008 JusticeMaker Dr. Aziz Saliba is creating two educational videos for Brazilians on the rights to habeas corpus and the Inter-American Court. We discussed Dr. Saliba’s project with Judge Dalton Soares of Divinopolis who told us “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a program like this in Brazil.” He agreed “Society must confront crime by not only focusing on repression, crime should also be faced with education.”

Dalton also commented on the practicality of programs like Dr. Aziz’s project. He instructed us, “When it comes to this country you must keep in mind the continental proportions of Brazil. The mere quantity of prisoners and cases to be solved.”

A new report in Veja this week noted that Brazil’s Supreme Federal Tribunal handles so many cases that in 2007 it was allowed just 15 minutes to judge a case. In 2009 the Tribunal is now allowed 27 minutes.

The Civil Police also must deal with more cases than their staff can handle. Carlos Roberto dos Santos, Sub Inspector of the Civil Police in Divinopolis, told us that he has a team of ten detectives investigating on average 80,000 criminal cases a year. When asked what would help them with their overwhelming workload he responded, “Education, more education for the people and the families.”

Ms. Jomara Ribeiro de Carvalho, a professor of International Law at Faculdade Pitágoras, envisioned for the IBJ team how educational programs on legal and human rights in Brazil might work. She agreed that education is important, however, “in Brazil’s case, education is most effective when it starts with children and youth.” She believes that an educational program related to legal advocacy would best be “channeled through television or religious institutions” as she noted that church groups and international media are already so active in family and individual education across Brazil.

Ms. Carvalho gave the IBJ team some closing words of advice, “Teaching human rights or legal rights in Brazil can be difficult” because “the first Brazilian commissions on human rights were always related to prisoners, criminals and those on the margins of society.”  On top of this ’stigma,’ Ms. Carvalho noted that “most people when they see police in the street they ask themselves, ‘Am I safer with or without the Police here?’

She agreed that the troubled state-society relations and continued racial profiling can make people reluctant to learn about their legal rights. But she added,

“Yes, they might be reluctant to learn until they have a problem they can’t solve. Then everyone wants to learn.”

(Photo by Michelle Ferng)

(Photo by Michelle Ferng)

Above: Street scenes in Sao Paulo, Brazil, depicting the various ways in which those struggling at the margins of society cope with their realities. Sao Paulo, one of the densely populated cities in the world, suffers from high poverty and unemployment rates, registering 12,000 homeless in 2008 according to census data.

“Brazil is a country of contradictions…If I have any advice for an organization that is about to expand into legal advocacy in Brazil it would be to talk. Talk a lot. You might think you understand Brazil but this is not easy.” — Roberto Tardelli

Last week, we visited Roberto Tardelli, a prominent prosecutor for homicides in Brazil at the First Jury Tribunal of São Paulo. Tardelli spoke about the difficulty of trying to explain legal rights, such as habeas corpus, to people who have no sense of rights at all. His comments explained the context behind the enormous challenges facing 2008 JusticeMaker Dr. Aziz Saliba and his project to educate the public about their rights to habeas corpus.

Tardelli noted that difficulties of legal advocacy in Brazil are related to the fact that “there are many different realities in our country.” For example, “there are groups in Brazilian society that believe they are still slaves.” These groups continue to avoid eating red mangoes and milk because they believe this causes death — a myth created centuries ago by slave owners who were protective of their fruit and dairy. These myths are related to a culture leftover from the military regimes, Tardelli interjected. Most prosecutors the IBJ team has spoken with in Brazil agree the legacy of the military regime is a major cause for the gaps they face in the fair application of Brazil’s legal code.

Other communities on the margins of society believe Brazil is currently under a military dictatorship because of the frequent harassment and illegal imprisonment they experience when dealing with the military police.  These ‘different realities’ have important consequences for how ordinary citizens view their legal rights. Tardelli gave an example;

“I go to see soccer games with my friends, many of whom are of African descent. Last time we went to a game together I said to them why do you carry all of your I.D. cards? They  respond ‘Because of the military regime. They stop us in the street. They arrest us. They ask for our I.D. and say this is not enough’”

Dr. Aziz Saliba faces a tough challenge in educating people who have very different views of Brazil’s legal system. However, before Tardelli would discuss themes or trends in Brazil’s legal system he noted that poverty, population pressures, and overcrowded jails must first be understood.

“Millions live below $2/day. How can you think about the future living like this. When you have no future you have no responsibility. When you have no responsibility what is a crime to you?”

Tardelli spoke about Alphaville, a community of elite in Brazil that do not believe that the majority of Brazilians are not white or that millions live in poverty. To help us understand how this is possible Tardelli said,

“When the Pope visited the favelas of Brazil the insane, suspected criminals and the diseased were rounded up, arrested, shot or shuffled to other locations so that the conditions of the favelas did not appear so bad.” Tardelli explained that during the Holy See’s visit, favelas like City of God, in a sense, became inhabited by God alone. He concluded,

“If different segments of Brazilian society cannot see eye to eye then they will not share the same vocabulary to resolve their differences. And so, the only language left is the language of violence.”

The next day after Tardelli’s interiew, Ms. Neves gave us a tour of the Pinapoteca museum which was hosting a special display on repression and activism in Brazil’s history. Outside the museum we saw a man being arrested by five police officers. His clothes lay on the ground. Crowds kicked his jeans and t-shirt down the street creating an illusion of the same man crawling away from the scene on his knees. Afterwards, Ms. Neves walked with me and tried to help me understand the contradictions of Brazil’s legal system. We passed a high end shoe store. In the same neighborhood we passed by a leper colony. Tardelli’s word’s came to mind: “Brazil is a country of contradictions,” but it is also a country with a lot of opportunity. As Tardelli said, “Latinos know this tradition of contradictions, of different realities, we can understand what this means for our future,” as he encouraged others to do the same.

Above: 2008 JusticeMaker Fellow Aziz Saliba. (Photo by Michelle Ferng.)

July 7th marked the first day Dr. Aziz Saliba, a 2008 JusticeMaker Fellow with International Bridges to Justice, began filming his video project on the right to habeas corpus. When asked ‘why habeas corpus?,’ Dr. Aziz Saliba responded, “This is a low cost project. It can reach many communities inside and outside of prison. It has an immediate impact to get people out of prison. It also sustains long term change to prevent illegal detainment in the future.”

Dr. Saliba noted anyone can write a petition for habeas corpus to help avoid illegal detainment. He noted, “One inmate wrote a petition for habeas corpus using his own blood on cigarette paper. Another spent years in prison that could’ve been avoided if he or his family had exercised this right.”

Eron, the President of Divifoco, the company producing Dr. Saliba’s DVD, said the project should be finished within weeks and distribution can begin by the end of the month.

Aziz hopes to make a difference by making it easier for people to both learn about their right to habeas corpus and for communities to exercise this right more often. This first video is meant to reach as many people as possible and is directed toward a lay audience with no experience in law or legal training. However, Dr. Saliba is working on a second video that is meant more for district attourneys, prosecutors and judges regarding the Inter-American Court. Ms. Cecilia Neves Silveira is Dr. Saliba’s assistant on this project and has been instrumental in coordinating both the IBJ journalists schedules and putting together the necessary programming and contacts for Dr. Saliba’s video on the Inter-American Court.

Ms. Neves Silveira explained to us why the Inter American Court is important for Brazilian citizens by highlighting the particular case of Maria da Penha. Penha was a woman whose husband twice attempted to kill her. Her case took so long that the man went un-punished. Her case was taken to the Inter American Commission of Human Rights, established a new law improving the rights of women, and helped reform Brazil’s national criminal code. In this way, the Inter American Court works with individual citizens to improve the defense of their basic human rights.

Dr. Saliba’s second DVD will be produced within the next two months and will be distributed to lawyers throughout the country.

(Photo by Michelle Ferng.)

Above: Eron(top left), owner of the production company, and his assistant preparing the set for the filming. (Photo by Michelle Ferng.)

Faiçal, director of Universidade de Itaúna, narrating the script for the habeas corpus DVD. (Photo by Michelle Ferng.)

Dr. Aziz Saliba, a 2008 JusticeMaker’s Fellow in Brazil, is programming an educational video regarding rights to Habeas Corpus. The video shoot will begin on Tuesday, July 7th. Two days before filming begins, Dr. Saliba’s assistant, Cecilia Neves Silveira, gave the IBJ Journalists an introduction to the spirituality of these communities facing high incarceration rates. The spiritual ceremony we attended provided a more complete picture of the accused in Divinópolis by describing some of the religious beliefs of communities that IBJ’s Brazilian program will be assisting.

Adão, a spiritual leader practicing forms of healing similar to Umbanda, or White Magic, welcomed us to his house where he held a service praying to Nossa Senhora do Rosário. Adão lives in a community that has faced much racial discrimination and high incarceration rates. Fortunately, Adão says racial discrimination is declining and members of his community are less frequently arrested for racial profiling. Dr. Saliba’s assistant, Cecilia Neves, taught me that this discrimination happens because when slavery existed in Brazil the slaves were almost the only ones arrested, thus this culture continued to exist even when slavery had ended in Brazil.

Adão’s house contained a 300 year old painting of a king’s crown which he keeps as a token of the African tradition brought to Brazil known as Festa do Reinado, celebrating black saints and Nossa Senhora do Rosário, credited for victories of Christians over Ottoman Turks. The outpouring of love for Adão was touching. Many during the service were brought to tears. They lifted their hands to the sky in prayer and later danced Moçambique to the beat of drums stored in Adão’s bedroom.

Adão’s worship of Christ has gained popularity through his adaptations of African traditions and local beliefs since the time of his grandparents. This form of worship is also highly popular among the prison communities. Rather than say that these two traditions are at odds, Adão spoke how these religious customs validate one another. His argument is foreshadowed by those of Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa’s thesis in Three Books Concerning Occult Philosophy. Here, Agrippa argues Christianity and magic reinforce one another and, in some ways, always have. Professor Ralph Bauer at New York University introduced me to these arguments a few years ago and his concluding remarks on Agrippa immediately came to mind and were similar to what Adão said. The arguments claim that forms of spirituality like Umbanda are religious practices that can validate the Christian faith by tying individuals to the natural resources of the world around them.

Adão told us many communities facing high incarceration rates believe in Christ but come to him for advice in the arts of Umbanda. Many can be imprisoned for long periods of time before they even receive their sentence. This problem has motivated lawyers like Dr. Aziz Saliba to inform the public about habeas corpus to prevent the illegal detainment of the accused.

Adão also talked at length about the changes taking place in the religious customs of his community. People are moving away from larger community festivals toward the celebration of personal events such as birthdays and anniversaries. Many feel alone. He does not preach often but listens to people’s complaints regarding loneliness in their search for a higher power. Adão noted that some people might feel alone and scared when trying to treat an illness that standard medical practices are too expensive for their means to pay for. And so many turn to their faith or other traditional treatments.

We were very grateful to the IBJ team here in Brazil to give us this spiritual context of the accused in the communities that Dr. Saliba works in. Attendees at Adão’s service commented on these spiritual practices praising Adão’s pure heart and the healing qualities of his services.

Those attending Adão’s service continually hugged him and told us that he is a special man in their community. Adão is a modest man. Rebuffed the compliments. Prayed for his personal failures. He was passionate. Could hold his drink. He knew how to dance and pray crying on his knees. His humility and identification with his people would claim accolades given to other men who were great because of their personal failures. As Clive James once said, these kind of men who are full of love and love’s failures are warmly welcomed by the public, especially those like Adão,  a man who “seemed mainly in search of reassurance that he was not as unique as he felt.”

Adão is a great listener. He reminds people of their worth and helps them. As Stephano urged in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, a play dealing with spirituality in the New Word, let

Every man shift for all the rest, and
let no man take care for himself; for all is
but fortune

Last week, IBJ documentary journalist Danny Thiemann and I had the chance to visit two prisons in Divinopolis, Brazil, where IBJ Fellow Aziz Saliba is working on a legal justice awareness campaign. The first, Presídio Floramar, is an adult prison designed for 250 inmates, though it currently holds approximately 500. The second, Centro Socio-educativo, is a youth reeducation center that accommodates less than 50 people. Both are considered to be among the better prisons currently operating in the country.

Dr. Saliba is hoping to send his educational DVDs on the right to habeas corpus to the same prisons and the communities from where the inmates come from.

Captions written by Danny Thiemann and Michelle Ferng

Guards are posted outside a workroom at Presídio Floramar where prisoners sew uniforms for inmates across Brazil. Half the wages they earn are pocketed and the other half go towards maintaining the prison.

On the other side of the bars, prisoners work together in a common room.

A defense lawyer meets with her client. Many of inmates in Brazil are unlawfully detained yet unaware of their rights to habeas corpus, a legal action deterring the illegal imprisonment of themselves or another person.

Upon arrival at Presídio Floramar in Divinópolis Brazil prisoners are given a standard set of clothes and personal items. Individuality is far from encouraged in the adult prison, in contrast to the prison system for adolescents, where inmates between 12-18 are allowed to wear their own clothes.

A small team of professionals designs educational courses for math, reading and writing at Floramar Prison. As the picture shows classes have spotty attendance and most educational materials are re-used donated materials.

Prisoners are given time during the day to sunbathe in a courtyard at Floramar Prison in Divinópolis, Brasil. After being counted, they are allowed to move freely about the courtyard. Some chant, sing to themselves or talk with the guards, but they are on the whole much quieter than the inmates at the adolescent jail next door.

A man guards the Director of Security as he gives the IBJ team a tour of Floramar Prison in Divinópolis Brazil.

Prisoners are allowed an conjugal visit from a legally registered wife or husband every fifteen days.

From left to right: Director of Security Cabo Eduardo, Prosecutor Alessandro Garcia Silva, Prosecutor Carlos José e Silva Fortes, and Ms. Vanda, a lawyer who was meeting with clients at Floramar. The team gave IBJ journalists a tour of Floramar Prison.

A woman stands guard at Floramar Prison in Divinópolis, Brazil that holds both male and female inmates and employs both male and female guards throughout the prison.

Prisoners hang their laundry at Presídio Floramar in Divinópolis.

A woman at Floramar Prison in Divinópolis, Brazil receives some time alone in the same courtyard pictured above.

A woman looks out of her cell in Floramar Prison located in Divinópolis, Brazil. 27 female inmates are included amongst 373 male prisoners in a facility that is twice over capacity.

An inmate washes dishes in the kitchen at Floramar Prison. Administrative staff, guards, and prisoners all eat the same meal, which is prepared daily.

Racial stereotypes and racial profiling have long been issues challenging the penal systems in Brazil. In this photo a handcuffed inmate consults with his lawyer beside Floramar’s open courtyard — a rare exception, noted Dr. Saliba’s assistant, Cecilia Neves Silveira, to the race relations observed in most prisons.

General Director (right) and the Director of Security (left) at Floramar Prison, accompanied by a guard, consult in the main courtyard.


Meanwhile, across the street at the adolescent prison, a woman watches the cameras in the facility. Here, the staff is keen to reduce the presence of guards and relies more on recorded video for supervision.

A basketball court also serves as a soccer field for inmates. Administrative staff note that every time a soccer ball is shot over the prison walls, the inmates immediately go to work repairing it once the ball is retrieved because the state does not have enough resources to send new recreational materials.

An art room at Centro Socio-educativo displays inmates’ artwork, showing a range of subjects and inspirations.

A security guard tours the cells. Guards at this youth detention center do not use guns and are restricted in their ability to use physical force when enforcing compliance.

Prosecutor Carlos José e Silva Fortes extends his hand to reassure a young client at Centro Socio-educativo.

Imprisonment does not dampen the youthful spirits of inmates, as one young man reaches out spontaneously to pose for the camera.