It is difficult to know where to start. Perhaps, like all things, it is best to start small.
For us, the last six months have been a nightmare. The grief experienced has been unlike anything I’ve ever felt. To reach for someone across prison walls is to feel like Orpheus. It is to feel overcome with love, and at times feel crushed by it, because this system lets no-one love how they want to. It is an anti-social system by design.
We have nonetheless approached the last six months with a tireless compassion, building on the example that our four loved ones have supplied us with. They have shown a compassion and care for human life that is astounding, both inside prison and out.
It is an example we will never forget. You have all taught us so much about what it means to love and be alive. Our fight is not over, and I suspect it never will be. We continue to move forward, one day at a time, our compassion growing each day.
When the state clamps down on that compassion, it shows itself to be the loveless entity that it is. The state is exposed for its structural inhumanity, at home and abroad. We will all continue to highlight that inhumanity until things change. Compassion grows outwards from the small acts of love we show each other, spreading through our communities and, ultimately, we hope, across borders.
We will continue to fight for freedom — for everyone who is not free. Whether you’re in Foston Hall or in Palestine, I love you more than I hate prison.
27/02/2026
