Hope, forgiveness and redemption: the prison without bars

“They speak to us like human beings here”, says one woman as she shows me around. “They understand if you are feeling down or lonely.”

The Bella Centre in Dundee is no ordinary prison. With no barbed wire or bars on windows, I almost drove right past it.

Inside you are struck by the bright pastel furniture and the smell of communal cooking, while messages about hope, forgiveness and redemption hang in picture frames. The atmosphere seems relaxed. Calm.

But when Bella opened two years ago, it was controversial. A community petition was launched in protest, and the centre has faced criticism about operating under capacity. It has space for 16 women; there were 11 when we visited.

“I just ask everyone to call me Gary”, says the centre manager as we sit down on a picnic bench in the garden.

He accepts there have been teething problems, but speaks passionately about trying to break a cycle of reoffending with a different approach.

Women who are picked to come to Bella from other prisons must be assessed to be low-risk and nearing the end of their sentences. He says that the transfer process can be time consuming.

Many female prisoners come with stories of domestic abuse and issues with addiction. Some have led chaotic lives, linked to criminal men.

The aim of Bella is to support these women to live independent and productive lives once they leave.

They receive a budget of £40-a-week to order their own food and they cook for themselves. Knives hang on the walls of shared kitchens, in front of pictures which allow staff to quickly identify if one is missing.

In one of those kitchens, I sit down for tea and a slice of lemon drizzle cake, beautifully baked by a woman we call “Anna”. I gently ask what her crime was.

“Murder,” she replies.

Anna is close to completing a life sentence for killing an ex-partner. She has won enough trust to work in the community and walks unaccompanied to prepare food at a local lunch club.

“He was thoroughly embedded in the policing culture”

“If we use the technology right and in an efficient way, then you will see justice earlier and be reassured that perpetrators will feel the full weight of the justice system”

“I gently ask what her crime was. ‘Murder,’ she replies”

As she makes soup, I ask what she would say to people who feel the approach at Bella is too soft for those who have committed the most serious crimes.

“We are not in prison to be punished”, she replies. “Our punishment is loss of liberty, our punishment is births, deaths and marriages we cannot be involved in, when things happen on the outside that you are not part of and your family grows and moves on.”

Family is the theme that runs through everything.

Gary tells me female prisoners often feel deep shame about bringing visitors into traditional prison environments. This can lead to the loss of support networks.

Visitors are encouraged in Bella, and there is even a wooden playpark for children.

“What would you rather?” asks Anna at the end of our filming. “Lock women up and throw away the key? Then you damage the children and the families and cause more trauma… potentially creating more criminals.”

This is an experiment – an expensive one. It cost £11.6 million to set up Bella.

She has a sister site, called Lilias, in Glasgow, which holds just over 20 women. Just a small fraction of the total women’s prison population in Scotland, which is currently sitting around 365.

Only two years in, it is perhaps too early to fully assess the impact.

But with relentless negative headlines about the prison system, there is at least potential here for a more progressive approach to succeed.

Channel 4 News was granted exclusive access to film inside the Bella Centre in Dundee. Watch more here.

“If we use the technology right and in an efficient way, then you will see justice earlier and be reassured that perpetrators will feel the full weight of the justice system”