Clément: “My door wasn’t locked from the outside.”

Clément was imprisoned for 11 years. Is the lockdown a second imprisonment?

// A series of testimonials: In between walls (3/6)

Do the walls feel the same? They have spent months, years, even decades, in prison. Lack of space, restricted movement, idleness, inspections: these familiar rudiments have re-emerged during the lockdown. For some, it has felt like a return to prison with its routine and operations. They insist they were trained for this. But the lockdown was not prison, and they explain the difference. Prison Insider has brought out six narratives of former prisoners. Six perspectives on the lockdown and imprisonment.

41-year-old Clément spent 11 years in prison. His last sentence was of five years.

I feel I got bored less in prison, probably because between work, walks, and sports, my days passed quicker than they do now.

AT FIRST, the lockdown felt good. Ever since I got out of prison, I haven’t had a holiday, so I saw a chance to relax, especially since, like everyone else, I hadn’t grasped the seriousness of the problem. It gradually thickened. I was bored, and also worried for my mother, who is in a delicate condition.

Just like imprisonment, there is a lack of freedom. However, in the case of the lockdown, we are consenting victims trying to discipline ourselves every day. Oddly, I feel I got bored less in prison, probably because between work, walks, and sports, my days passed quicker than they do now. I had a routine. The doors would open at 7 for the roll call, coffee, and TV news. I was almost always working. I spent a lot of time outside my cell. I was privileged.

We often speak of the boredom and emptiness of imprisonment. It is necessary to always try and stay busy so as to pass the time.

I wouldn’t exactly say I was unhappy in prison. But I can say for certain that it’s impossible to be happy there. You’re in a state of permanent suspension. Your perspective is incomplete. Yet the lockdown felt harder at times. You have to exercise restraint and discipline all on your own. Nevertheless, if I felt like hopping into my car and heading out, nothing would stop me. My door wasn’t locked from the outside.

Nothing is certain.

What was most difficult was staying connected to the outside world.

As a matter of fact, there are moments that mark the rhythm of the day in prison, but these moments are never what you’d expect. A day’s rhythm is marked by the closing of doors, or the calls of the prison officers—constant occurrences. The rest depends on the goodwill of the management, and is never certain.

Adaptation takes time, especially the first time.

In my case, I knew what was coming, and braced myself for it. That really simplified things. I was imprisoned 800 km from home, but I knew why I was there. This consciousness helped me accept my situation. What was most difficult was staying connected to the outside world—a world that went on, a world our loved ones inhabited. If something happened, like an accident or a problem, the inability to intervene would chafe at you. And then, there are all those family moments like Christmas and summer holidays that you miss, and imagine are spoiled by your absence.

Interview by Margot Hemmerich and Clément Bousquet.
Translated by Susanna Correya.