Innocents struggle with life after jail
Campaigners call for refuge to help the wrongly convicted deal with freedom
Gerard Seenan
Friday November 26, 2004
The Guardian
Robert Brown left prison 25 years after he was wrongfully convicted. The cameras and the TV crews were there at the steps of the court of appeal two years ago to record the moment of his hollow victory. Then he went home to a place he no longer recognised or understood.

"It has been a nightmare," he says, voice cracking. "There were times when I didn't think I would get through it - still are. After more than a quarter of a century in prison an innocent man, they just kicked me out and left me to get on with it. Contempt is all the judicial system has ever shown me."
Like all victims of miscarriages of justice, there was no gradual release for Mr Brown. No programme to help him reintegrate into society; no psychological help once he was out; no one to show him how to deal with the world that had passed him by.
"Even paying bills has been awful," he says. "I have just learned how to pay them this week and I have been out for two years. Videos are beyond me and so is the washing machine."
There are other problems too: the rages, depression, drink. These are troubles common to those who have been wrongfully convicted.

"I liken it to a pressure cooker," says John McManus, of the Miscarriages of Justice Organisation (Mojo). "Guilty people get to go out a day a week for about three years before they are finally released; that starts to let the pressure off for them. But innocent people are just thrown out with all that pressure still inside them. No counselling, no help with basic life skills, and they explode."
It is a problem Mojo wants to address. Currently, it is lobbying the Scottish executive for help to set up a retreat for those who have been victims of miscarriages of justice. It would be the first centre of its kind in the world; a place where the wrongfully convicted could get help from those who had experienced the same injustice.
"It would be staffed largely by volunteers, because these people have a tremendous and understandable distrust of authority and the only people they are willing to take advice from are those who have been through it beforehand," Mr McManus says.

Adrian Grounds, a senior lecturer in psychiatry at the institute of criminology at Cambridge University, has worked with about 25 people who have been wrongfully convicted. He says there is a pressing need for the sort of centre Mojo wants to set up in Scotland.
"You can't reverse what has happened, but you can provide people with support so they can attempt to overcome what has happened," says Dr Grounds.
"Many of these people need the kind of refuge that John [McManus] is trying to set up. The only help currently available is through the Citizens Advice Bureau, and it is a very small part of what is needed."

Although every miscarriage of justice is obviously different, there are problems common to those who have been wrongfully convicted.
"Most have serious psychological difficulties," Dr Grounds adds. "Many have become changed in their personality and character. They can become introverted and difficult to live with. Some have significant post-traumatic stress disorder and frequent problems with depression. There are often problems with aggressiveness and excessive anger."

Mr Brown, who lives in Glasgow, was wrongfully convicted of the murder of Annie Walsh in Manchester in 1977, and 27 years on he can tick off most of the boxes from the psychiatrist's list.
"There's been emptiness, just an all-pervasive emptiness," he says. "Anger: I've thrown things across the room for no reason. I have done drink and drugs to try and get some solace.
"When my mother died, I barricaded myself up for four months. It's such a damaging thing and there is nowhere I can get a cathartic experience and escape it."

A delegation from Mojo recently met the justice minister, Cathy Jamieson, to seek funding for the retreat. A feasibility study estimates it will cost about £1m to set up. It is, Mr McManus admits, a lot of money, but he says it is only a drop in the ocean compared with the money spent on helping offenders.

An executive spokesman said the issue was under consideration. "The justice minister had a very constructive meeting with Mojo in which the idea of a retreat was floated. She has asked officials to examine what is the best way forward and they have yet to report to her."

In the meantime, Mojo plans to write to 500 companies and officials seeking a donation of £1,000 from each.
"It's not a lot to ask people to give to help those who have been so badly treated," says Mr McManus. "I have never met a miscarriage of justice victim who has not told me at some point they wished they were back in prison. Surely that's a hellish indictment of the way they are treated when they get out." more.....