Bunbury Regional Prison Pre-release Unit's new age style of imprisonment a first in WA

The prison is the first in Western Australia to roll out this “new age” method of imprisonment.

About 45 members of the South West community, including councillors, community workers and priests, were invited to take a tour around the purpose built area.

At first glance, it could be mistaken for a retirement village or a primary school.

The inmates have their own small community where they learn how to function as law-abiding citizens.

As we are shown around we can see a shop, a gym, a library, and even a barbershop. Financial transactions are carried out on paper.

Senior officer Kim Brown tells us the inmates do their own shopping for their lodges and cook their own meals.

“While this is all lovely, it is still prison,” she explains.

She says the “lock ‘em up and throw away the key” mentality has a detrimental effect on society.

The idea is to upskill the prisoners pre-release so they can find sustainable jobs and avoid returning to crime.

Physical well-being appears to be of importance to the scheme. The core of the minimum security institution is occupied largely by a tennis court, basketball court, and beach volleyball.

Beyond the physical activity area, a large veggie patch runs the distance of the unit. The produce is sold at the local farmers’ market.

Brown tells us part of the service is to provide rehabilitation for greyhounds who are no longer able to race.

We walk past the immaculate flowers and hedges and BBQ pit to enter unit block B, where we are warmly welcomed by the residents.

One inmate opens the door for us, two more are reading newspapers, one stands in the corner eating an apple, another in the kitchen watching over their slow-cooker dinner.​

The convicts interact with our group and treat us like guests visiting their house.

We are soon ushered on by the prison guards, a shame as I was half expecting the inmates to put the kettle on and offer us tea.

The scenic route back to the prison meeting room allowed us to view another high-quality veggie patch.

“I’d like to pinch a couple, aren’t they lovely,” one woman joked. “It’s good to see holes in [the lettuce], it means they’re not spraying them with chemicals.”

Despite the vibrancy of the compound, the inmates wear a dull shade of dark green.

Brown reiterates the impact of upskilling should result in reduced offending levels. Without the Section 95 scheme, released prisoners are statistically more likely to reoffend and return to confinement.; which is a burden on ratepayers.

She has been working as an officer for 27 years and is confident a pre-release unit is the best way to nurture criminals back into society.

We return to the meeting room with a clear view through the window of the prisoners in their compound.

There are 108 inmates in a compound designed for 72. Assistant superintendent Loren Ruthven is concerned that the demand could see the number rise to 144.

“They have done their time,” Ruthven says.

“They learn to have a bit of freedom about them, here they learn to resocialise.”

The prisoners are placed to do community work around the South West.

Leschenault Catchment Council (LCC) has reaped the benefits their assistance.

Earlier this year, the LCC engaged with the Section 95 team to attend a site at Parkfield along the Brunswick River to hand-pull cotton bush which was invading seedlings planted in 2015.

Project officer Julie Palmer says the members of the LCC are elderly and incapable of doing the labour work.

“The guys come with a range of manual labour skills, they come with tools that are ready to be utilised, as well their enthusiasm to do a good job and work hard.”