KARACHI: Jail industries are not doing well. First, age-old methods and techniques still prevail; new, challenging crafts and skills have not been introduced. Second, either prisoners are not being paid for their work, or paid a pittance. Third, in some prisons, like in Sukkur, flourishing industries have shut down. What prevents the modernization of prison industries?
“Inadequate budget for jail projects,” says Justice Z. A. Channa, former chairman of the Jails Reforms Committee. He recalls a visit to Karachi Central Prison in 1994 when he found two rows of prisoners sitting with folded hands before the looms. On inquiry he learnt that the jail had no funds to purchase the yarn used on the looms; and what’s more, many looms were out of order.
But even if funds were available, the jail industry would still suffer because jail officials lack knowledge of modern industries. With this in view, Justice Channa upholds calling upon private entrepreneurs to invest in prisons, provide the needed capital, train prisoners and pay weekly wages to those employed. But why should private entrepreneurs be interested at all? “Because there is no absenteeism or trade unions in prisons,” he says. He adds that such a project would be particularly beneficial to prisoners as it will prevent idleness “which leads some prisoners to form gangs and learn new ways to commit crime;” it will teach them new skills and help them rehabilitate once they leave prison, and most of all, it will help them to support their families.
To this effect, Justice Channa had drawn elaborate rules for “privatization of jail industry” to be added to the Prison Rules manual. These include instructions for the prison staff to draw out suitable persons for work and training among the convicted and undertrial prisoners; to permit the entrepreneur and his agent to visit the premises allotted to the entrepreneur at any hour before lock-up time; to also allow “a reasonable number of instructors and supervisors employed by the entrepreneur” to visit the premises.
With regard to the private entrepreneur, the rules drawn by Justice Channa call upon him to provide rent for the use of the prison premises and any prison machinery used; to pay weekly wages equal to a private worker’s; to be responsible for installation of private machinery and the raw material required and provide training and supervision of the prisoners employed in the industry.
There are also instructions on how the wages of the prisoners are to be dealt with. Sixty per cent of the wages would be credited to the personal account of the prisoner (to help him support his family or to set aside for personal use upon release from prison); and forty per cent to be retained by the prison staff and used for development work in the prison.
Adding these rules to the prison manual is essential to streamline the prison industry, protect the entrepreneur’s interest and the prisoner from exploitation. However, when Justice Channa presented these rules in 1997 to the then government for inclusion in the prison rules, “they were not considered.” Justice Channa attributes this to the “lack of vision and insight” by policy- makers who are not committed to the reform of prisoners and improvement of prisons.
Entrepreneur Sardar Maqbool Zaman lauds Justice Channa’s proposals but in the same breath admits that businessmen as a rule would hesitate from working in prisons. “However, individuals who are committed to prison reform — and I know several such industrialists who have contributed in kind for prisons’ development — would be attracted. They would be motivated not so much by profit but by commitment to work for the prisoners’ welfare.”
What products can best be made in prison? “Usually things made in small cottage industries — such as shoes, toys and toy parts made in plastic moulding machine, picture frames and book binding. Making these products would not require much investment, technical skill or space,” says Mr Zaman. “But any businessman who invests in prison would require a three-year guarantee at least, that if he sticks to the rules, there will be no undue interference in his work by the prison authorities.” He recalled with misgiving that the computer programme designed and set up at the Sindh High Court lock-up by him as member of the Sindh Governor’s Task Force for Jail Reforms (now a defunct body) was not allowed to function for long by police, even after sanction by the High Court. vigorous
To launch the products made in prisons, Mr Zaman suggests vigorous campaign through advertisements in newspapers and magazines, calling upon people to buy these items, particularly as their gesture would benefit prisoners.
Justice Salahuddin deplores the outdated and highly limited industry in prisons in the country. He recalls that on his government-assigned visit to the prisons in Seoul and Singapore in 1996, he observed full-fledged computer and TV assembly plants which also undertook repairs. Besides, the prison in Seoul also had a well developed dress-making, printing industry and carpentry. “Very high standard windows and doors were made and stacked,” recalls Justice Salahuddin. Training was also imparted in professional cooking, automobile repair and repair of all types of electrical household gadgets. “In the prison in Macau, I found prisoners were laundering clothes of five-star hotels.”
Industry also formed an integral part of Fuchu prison in Tokyo, Japan, where vocational training included “Kamakura carvings.” Such prison work was stressed as a part of mental therapy and to provide prisoners with vocational skills that would encourage reintegration into society after their release. Vocational training in the prison in Macau included repair of airconditioners and fans and training in plumbing.
A retired superintendent of Quetta prison, Ghulam Sheikh, observed that the looms in Quetta prison produced such fine khaddar that Akbar Bugti bought these for personal wear. “Khaddar production should be encouraged in prisons.”



























