They wanted me to go to rehab …

The new regime at Kerobokan is keen to resuscitate the prison’s rehabilitation programs, which have idled since the executions of Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumuran in April, 2015.

The pair were the ringleaders of the infamous Bali Nine, named for the group of young Australians caught in 2005 while attempting to smuggle around 8kgs of heroin from Indonesia to their home country.

For those not familiar with the case, the group was arrested following a tipoff from the Australian police — the Indonesians were completely unaware of the plot.

Had they been arrested on arrival in Australia and convicted there, they would all most certainly be out of jail by now, or nearing the end of their sentences.

Instead, the case became a media circus and the Indonesians threw the book at them. Following a series of sometimes farcical appeals and counter-appeals, none of the others face execution, but apart from Renee Lawrence (20 years) the rest all have life in prison.

Only two of them remain at Kerobokan — Matthew Norman and Si Yi Chen. The others, hardened addicts, have been moved to other prisons around Indonesia after being classified as trouble makers.

I didn’t know them, but Andrew and Mury, as they were known here, were loved by the entire prison population — inmates and guards alike. I remember as their execution loomed that newspapers were full of stories about how they had rehabilitated themselves completely, but I also recall reading a deluge of ignorant social media “analysis” suggesting their conversions were self-serving and meant only to save their skins.

I can’t exaggerate how their impact is still felt here. Almost every long-term prisoner has a picture in his cell with his arm around one or both of them. Their portraits hang in the rehab block and even the mention of their names is enough to bring some inmates to tears.

Andrew became a pastor and was the driving force behind the building of a beautiful chapel that opened last month in the prison grounds. As a result of his efforts, Christian groups visit daily and feed dozens of destitute prisoners, regardless of their religion.

Mury became an accomplished artist (he has an exhibition currently touring Australia) and was the heart and soul of the Bangker (rehab workshops) where, until his execution, there thrived an art school, jewelry workshop, tailor, adult education classes and mechanic training.

It seems grotesque to me that having so completely turned their lives around and shown how beneficial a good rehabilitation program can be, the Indonesian government would choose to execute them anyway.

The result was to be expected. The inmates effectively gave up on the rehab programs. What was the point?

I’ve become friends with Matty Norman since arriving here and in a short time found him to be an absolutely first class bloke — the sort you’d be proud to have your daughter bring home for dinner.

He was 17 when he was arrested — barely an adult — and he is now serving year 11 of a life sentence. In that time he has kept completely clean and stayed on the straight and narrow despite seeing his best friends executed for doing the same.

He is an inspiration to me.

Matty also lost faith in the rehab program, but the arrival of the new triumvirate has tipped him to give it another go — not because he gets any advantage, but because he wants to help other prisoners. He has picked up the baton from Andrew and Mury.

Matty is very keen to get me involved — and I want to take part — in holding a writers’ workshop and also philosophy classes. These will be held under the auspices of a Norwegian charity, and I’ve already met their leadership and they are keen to tap my skills.

Matty has started a computer school and also, his pet project, a silk screen T-shirt printing studio, with the aim of selling shirts to fund other programs.

The attitude of the guards, however, is very frustrating. They want it known that there are rehab programs, but only to tick a box. They care little for the effectiveness of the programs.

For example, the silk screen shop boasts a rather steam age-like contraption that is labour-intensive but effective. When money was raised to buy a second machine, against all advice the administration instead bought a high tech computerised version that is operated by just one person, costs a fortune to run, and now sits idly in a corner, gathering dust.

Any attempts to sell or swap the machine for something more practical are met with indifference by the guards. They just can’t be bothered.

Money can induce the guards to do most anything, but the prisoners are hardly in a position to fund their own rehabilitation — nor should they — and getting help from outside is always viewed with great suspicion. Obviously most charity groups want some recognition for their largesse, but the prison authorities won’t allow this. They want all the credit.

I can’t fully participate in the rehab programs until after sentencing, but I’ll throw my lot in with Matty and see how we go.

The new triumvirate has only been here two months and are already making small changes to the way the prison runs — not all appreciated by the inmates — but we hope we can get them fully behind the rehab programs.