All language subtitles for Inside.The.Worlds.Toughest.Prisons.S04E01.WEBRip.x264-ION10_English

[Rowe]
Tacumbu Penitentiary in Paraguay.

One of the most dangerous prisons
on Earth.

[prisoners clamoring loudly]

It's home to 4,000
of the country's worst criminals.

From drug traffickers to murderers.

[in Spanish]
I shot him with his own weapon.

Fatal riots have earned Tacumbu
a reputation for brutality and bloodshed.

[in Spanish]
He was killed in Tacumbu in a riot.

He was beheaded.

It's so underfunded,
inmates must hustle for every dollar.

This is disgusting, man.

What-- What are you looking for?

[in Spanish] Food to sell...

And only the strongest survive.

[Rowe] Can you imagine
this penetrating your skin?

[in Spanish] That's life in Tacumbu.

My name is Raphael Rowe,

and I'll be spending a week locked up
in this South American prison

to see what life is like
when every day is a fight for survival.

I've never seen anything like it
in any prison anywhere in the world.

It's not my first time behind bars.

I was convicted in the UK
of a murder I didn't commit

and sentenced to life with no parole.

It took me 12 long years to clear my name.

Now I'm traveling the world
to find out what life is really like

inside some of the world's
toughest prisons.

Paraguay, sandwiched between Brazil,
Argentina and Bolivia,

has become one of South America's
biggest drug-smuggling routes.

Here in the barrios
of the capital, Asuncion...

[dog barks aggressively]

...rival gangs are locked in
a bloody battle

for control of this lucrative trade.

[men speaking Spanish]

Police fight an ongoing battle
to stem the flow of drugs and violence.

But with poverty rife,

the locals have little choice
but to choose sides.

Many of those arrested will end up here:

Tacumbu Penitentiary,
in the heart of the slums.

I'm going to spend a week inside Tacumbu.

It's connected with gang violence
and faction rivalry.

So much so that in the last couple
of weeks there have been riots.

So I'm quite nervous about going in there

because it's the most dangerous place
in this country.

Massively overcrowded
and drastically underfunded,

Tacumbu is home to some
of the country's most violent criminals.

[men clamoring in Spanish]

Just a fortnight ago,

two inmates were murdered in a riot
caused by a feud between warring gangs.

[men shouting angrily in Spanish]

Now, I'm going to see for myself

what it takes to survive
in South America's most feared prison.

There are 35 prison guards
to 4,000 prisoners

in the prison that I'm heading to,

and that bothers me, that worries me

because who is there
to protect the prisoners?

Who is there to protect the guards?

And who is there to protect me?

The first step is to be checked
for drugs and weapons.

Two prisoners were stabbed to death here
just a fortnight ago.

So as a new arrival,
I'm expecting a full-on body search.

Knives and even guns are
regularly smuggled into the prison,

but still all I get,
is a quick pat-down with a metal detector.

[camera clicks]

So far this year,

there's been a death
every two weeks inside Tacumbu.

I have to admit, I'm unusually nervous

about what's waiting for me
inside the prison.

[men clamoring, whistling]

As I enter the main body of the prison,
I can't believe what I'm seeing.

It's like being in a vast,
overcrowded, dangerous slum.

These men look like
they're living out here.

They don't even have beds,
let alone cells.

I'm thankful to be accompanied

by Tacumbu's head of security,
Julio Cesar.

[Rowe] It looks very disorganized,

very threatening,

very scary.

How are you managing that
as the head of security?

[in Spanish] At first glance,
it's chaotic

because of the overcrowding.

We've got a population three or four times

the capacity of this prison.

For my own safety,

I'm hoping this is not
where I'll be staying.

[in Spanish] This will be your cellblock.

I'm relieved when the gate shut behind us.

This is Pavilion D,
one of the many blocks in Tacumbu.

These cells, housing 150 inmates,

are funded by the Catholic church,

not the drug gangs
that control the rest of the prison.

But it's the inmates
who are in charge here,

and they've appointed Edgar,
who is serving a 25 year sentence,

to run the place.

-[Edgar speaking Spanish]
-Me llamo Raphael.

[in Spanish] From now on,

you can only leave
with Edgar's authorization.

[in Spanish] I make
the decisions in this pavilion.

Well, to be able to stay here,

you have to follow our rules.

Anyone can apply to live here,
but it's down to Edgar who gets in.

[in Spanish] Those who don't follow
the rules are kicked out.

Well, I'll follow any rule
I need to follow to stay here

rather than out there.

-Have you ever been to prison before?
-Yes.

Have you ever killed another person
while in prison?

No.

-Do you take drugs?
-I don't take drugs.

Try and get on with all fellow inmates.

Uh, rapists, kidnappers,
murderers, drug traffickers...

We all live in this block.

How long are you serving, Edgar?

I was originally sentenced to nine years.

And what was the crime you committed?

I'm here for drug trafficking.

They caught me
with 1,500 kilograms of drugs.

Should I be scared of you?

You're the boss.
You're the man who runs this place.

I am here to help
and not for others to fear me.

I respect you and you respect me back.

I'm relieved when Edgar agrees
I can stay in Pavilion D.

[in Spanish] I'm taking you to your cell
so you can meet your cellmates.

[Rowe] Okay.

But apprehensive
about who I could be sharing a cell with.

-[man in Spanish] Hi.
-Justo?

[Justo] Yeah, what's up?

How are you?

Nice to meet you. Raphael.

-[in Spanish] Nice to meet you.
-Nice to meet you.

[Justo] Welcome to our modest home.

Edgar has paired me
with Pavilion D veterans, Diego and Justo.

This is a small space for three grown men.

[Justo in Spanish]
You get used to it with time.

There are many other inmates
who are way worse off than us.

[Rowe] So which one's my bed?

Yours? [laughs]

This is yours.

Oh, I got the cat--
The cat paw quilt cover.

Well, this is really nice. Isn't it?
Can I try it out?

Let me see if it's comfortable?

-[laughs]
- Okay, let's see how this works for me.

This is really claustrophobic,
but I must say this is soft.

A lot of the guys would die
for a bed like this, right?

[Diego in Spanish] Sometimes you can get
killed over a mattress.

Do I have to pay for this mattress
and this bedspread?

In this pavilion you don't need to pay,
but you have to pay in other places.

Other places outside of this pavilion,

where you pay
for your mattress and your bed.

[Rowe] Staying in this cell,
I don't have to pay for it?

Yeah, but there are almost 50 regulations
that you have to obey.

Because the Catholic Church
funds Pavilion D,

they also set the rules,

which include going to Sunday service.

[Diego in Spanish] For example,

you can't carry
any sharp weapons or knives.

It's forbidden to drink alcohol,
to consume cocaine.

[Rowe] What about this one?

[in Spanish]
It is strictly prohibited to urinate,

wipe your snot, and defecate on the floor.

And these are not the kind of things I do

and so I think
I'll get on quite fine here.

Um, but I suppose in order for me
to feel safe

in this cell with you two guys,

I need to find out a few things about you.

What you've done, how long you're serving,
how long you've been in prison?

I know nothing.

[in Spanish]
Now, I'm here for aggravated robbery,

but before, I was here for murder.

You're a murderer?

There's even a dead security guard

because of me.

Justo may be a murderer,

but as long as he follows
the numerous rules

set down by the church in Pavilion D,

he can live in relative comfort
and safety for free.

-[prisoners whistling]
-[cell doors locking]

Given the way the men outside this block
are struggling to survive,

it seems a price worth paying.

[buzzer sounds loudly]

[Rowe]
It's really early in the morning.

It's just gone 5:30,
um, but these guys are ready to go.

Bloody cockroach walking across the table.

Lack of money means guards here
are outnumbered, 125 to 1,

but they still have the basics
like roll call.

[guard coughs]

Roberto...

Sí, señor.

-[guard indistinct]
-[man] Señor!

[guard] Partio...

One of the conditions
of staying in Pavilion D

is that prisoners must work
for at least four hours a day.

Raphael Rowe.

Señor!

Justo, a carpenter by trade,

offers to show me his work
making traditional drinking horns.

[in Spanish] I'm going to put this
on your lap,

so you don't get dirty.

Do you make them as a hobby,
or are you selling these products?

Yes, I sell them.

At the moment, I spend the money on food.

How important is money
to survival here in Tacumbu?

If you don't have money,

if you don't have friends,
then you are nobody in life.

In this environment, in this place.

It seems that at Tacumbu,
you need to pay your way.

To pay mine, I've been allocated a job
in the prison kitchens,

but getting there will mean leaving
the safety of Pavilion D.

Am I free to go from Pavilion D
to anywhere else in the prison

I want to go?

Yes.

But to avoid violence,
you have to avoid the wrong places.

Where is the wrong places?

The Tinglado where they smoke drugs.

What is your advice?

You should know when
to mind your own business.

We're talking about life or death here.

It's as serious as that, is it?

Yes, it is.

To get to the kitchen,

I've got to leave this relatively safe,
clean and privileged pavilion.

And get through the hellish Tinglado.

[prisoners clamoring]

The men here look underfed and desperate.

It's overcrowded,

and there don't seem to be
any guards keeping control.

This feels like a dangerous,
dirty, lawless ghetto.

[Rowe] And they call this The Tinglado.

It's kind of a corrugated, iron roof cover
for guys that sleep out in the open.

I've never seen anything like it
in any prison anywhere in the world.

The Tinglado is where you end up
if you don't, or won't,

follow the rules in the pavilions.

I really can't believe what I'm seeing.
Openly, in the prison yard,

these guys are
just hitting the crack pipe.

They're just smoking it.

Not one, not two, but loads of these guys,

they're just wandering around
looking for it and smoking it.

I can't believe what I'm seeing,
to be honest.

There's no guards.
There's no authority. There's nobody.

In fact, the guards that are here
are doing absolutely nothing to stop them.

Inmates in the Tinglado
clearly have nothing.

So I'm wondering how they survive
and pay for their drugs.

[accordion plays]

As I watch, a wagon laden
with prison waste arrives in the Tinglado.

From what it looks like,
is that they brought this, um...

makeshift trailer where the prisoners--
Hold on a minute.

What are you doing?
What are you looking for?

[in Spanish] Anything valuable.

What is in here that could be valuable?

Food to sell...

What is that?

Flour.

[both speaking Spanish]

-Flour?
-Yes, flour.

Come on, help me.

He's looking for food.
This guy's asked me to help him

look in this rubbish for--

Oh, that's food? Tomato?

The man's name is Esteban.

And it seems
that if you've got no money at Tacumbu,

sifting through the prison's waste
is how you raise it.

[in Spanish] Onion.

Oh, look.

[prisoners shouting]

This is disgusting, man.

Tomato.

-Okay, what's this?
-Banana.

How much can you sell some pasta
that you find in this shit for?

1,000 guarani.

Someone's gonna pay you
1,000 guarani for some pasta?

If you make it with love, it's very tasty.

What else is valuable in here
that you can sell?

Soap, brushes, cigarette butts.

When you're looking for stuff here,

and there are other guys
looking for stuff here,

do you fight over what you find?

There are many fights.

Now there are few people
because they don't want to be on camera.

Yeah. Okay, that's fair enough.

How long have you been
in prison doing this?

Scavenging through this stuff,
finding things like this?

Two years.

What is the best thing
you ever find in here?

Money, drugs.

There's no money or drugs
in this waste today,

but Esteban seems
to prize plastic bottles.

The guys are digging in here
to try and find anything they can to sell.

It's a commodity.

This is the lowest of the lowest,
but they can make just a fraction

of a... of a dollar to pay
for their drugs.

The economy inside this prison
is like nothing you've seen before,

but there is an economy.

Even for the guys scavenging
in this rubbish.

Esteban may eat or sell
some of the food he finds,

but dinner for most of the men
is provided by the prison kitchen.

And that's where
I'm supposed to be working.

[tense music playing]

-Diego?
-Hola!

-Diego?
-[in Spanish] Yes.

Diego is the head chef here at Tacumbu,

cooking for over 4,000 prisoners
twice a day.

[Rowe] So what are you preparing
for the prisoners today?

[in Spanish] Noodles. Meat with noodles.

And what can I do to help you today?

Lift these pots.

This food keeps men like Esteban alive

and the prisoners that prepare it
get a regular wage,

keeping them out of the Tinglado poverty.

How much do these guys get paid?

[in Spanish] Some of them are paid
$10.

Others, $15. It varies.

I get more or less $20 a week.

I believe this is
the most privileged workplace

in this prison.

As well as his pay,
Diego gets time off his sentence.

Three months for every year he works here.

[in Spanish] This is where we prepare
the vegetables. We chop them.

[Rowe] It-- It's acceptable
to most people

outside of prison that prisoners
would have to have access to knives

in a kitchen to cut carrots
and other bits of food that...

But I see knives out there
among some of the kinda lawless people.

[in Spanish] It's normal.
We all have knives here.

This is the knife I keep in here.

That's your weapon?

-Yes.
-This makes it very real, doesn't it?

Can you imagine
this penetrating your skin?

Can you imagine
somebody using this against you?

Or you having to use this
against someone to defend yourself?

That is the threat
men like Diego face every day.

That's right. That's life in Tacumbu.

Have you ever witnessed
somebody use a knife in the prison?

Yes. Thousands of times.

Thousands of times.

Only a few years ago,

two prisoners were killed
when kitchen equipment broke down

and desperate, hungry prisoners rioted.

So there's always
huge time pressure on Diego

to feed the thousands of prisoners
waiting impatiently.

At what time will you feed the prisoners?

[in Spanish] Dinner is served at 5:00 p.m.

Why do you serve dinner so early?

For safety.

Because later on it gets dark
and there are fewer guards around.

The inmates are left alone

and they fight, stab one another.

The rich prisoners,
like my block boss Edgar,

would never lower themselves
to eating this food.

But the poor prisoners eagerly queuing
depend on it to survive.

And these meals
are all the prison give them.

Anything else, a blanket,

clothes, they have to earn money to buy.

[Rowe] You might think
handing out four buns

to desperate hands is an easy job...

[chuckles] but I'm feeling
the pressure here.

I really am because it's endless.

But the containers that they're using
to collect their food--

I mean, the guy's having
this thing put into a bottle.

There is not a plate in sight.

It's a... It's a sad, sad sight.

But even in this chaos,

there are opportunities
for inmates to conduct business.

Suddenly, Esteban's hunt
for plastic bottles begins to make sense.

When... When I saw Esteban
with his bag of bottles,

this dirty bag of bottles,

I thought to myself,
"What the eff are you gonna do with them?"

But I've just seen him out there

getting paid buns
for dirty plastic bottles.

So, what to me and you
might look like... rubbish,

Esteban has got a little...

a little business going on. Unbelievable.

As the Tinglado prepares
to settle down for the night,

Esteban offers to show me
his sleeping arrangements.

[in Spanish] That's where my bed is,
a sheet.

It's a sheet.

Why'd you keep your sheets up there?

So nobody steals them.

This is your bed space?

Yes.

I always sleep here.

If somebody come and slept in your spot,
would it upset you?

Yes, we would fight.

Do you feel threatened here all the time?
Is it a violent place?

It's constantly dangerous.

You wouldn't wish this
upon your worst enemy.

Like many of those living in the Tinglado,

Esteban ended up inside
because of his drug addiction.

Deep down inside yourself,

in your heart of hearts,

how do you really feel
about the person you are today?

[in Spanish] Humiliated.

That's only here in prison.

On the outside,
my family has everything, they have money.

I have to get out of here, freedom.

Conditions here are shocking

and I'm not surprised
bloody riots are a regular occurrence.

With so few guards,

the most they can do is try
and stop violence breaking out more often.

To find out what it's like
trying to keep this place under control,

I'm joining Julio and Jose
on their patrol around the prison.

[Rowe] Walking through that scrum
of prisoners feels to me that every time

I walk through there, one of them wants
to attack me or take something from me.

Is it as dangerous for you?

[in Spanish] In the beginning, you do.

You do feel intimidated
when you first start,

but with time you get used to it
and it becomes a routine.

[Rowe] What I find crazy is...

Look, I mean this guy has
a knife just in his hand.

Where do they get these knives from?

This is where they rip the bars off
and they sharpen their knives.

Lopez!

[speaking Spanish]

[in Spanish] Then they come here...

to sharpen the ends.

[in Spanish] They play loud music

when they're making
a noise breaking them off, so...

we can't hear them doing it at night.

[Rowe] And they literally melt
the plastic around the bottom of the bar

and use that as a handle.

You know what's crazy?
A bar that is supposed to be keeping

these prisoners in prison
are being ripped off

and used to harm other prisoners.

-Thank you for showing me.
-You're welcome.

Just inside the main gates at Tacumbu,

there's a poignant reminder
of how dangerous this prison can be

for the guards that work here.

-What? What is that?
-[speaking Spanish]

[Rowe in Spanish] What do you call it?

[in Spanish] She's the patron saint
of the guards.

The Virgin of Mercy

and these are our colleagues
who died in service.

He was killed in Tacumbu in a riot.

He was killed in an ambush
in a massive escape.

He was beheaded.

They cut off his head!

Yes.

And he died in a fire here.

A fire that was started
by the prisoners during the riot?

Yes.

When the riot started,
he was taken hostage.

And he was shot.

And so, what's...
What's the purpose of the shrine?

I appreciate that it's there so people
can come and say prayers for him.

Why is it here inside the prison?

We made it
so everybody who comes in sees it.

With so few guards to police
so many violent prisoners locked in here,

I'm not sure I'm even safe in Pavilion D.

[Rowe] Although I'm in this pavilion

and it's a lot more secure
than what it is out there,

is there a threat
that they can get into here?

You know, some of those desperados,
those guys who need and want their drugs?

[in Spanish] Chances are slim.

The guys here have everything,
they have their knives everywhere.

So if there's trouble, or danger,

the guys bring them out
to defend themselves.

That's good to know.

A riot broke out
at a nearby prison recently

and spread to Tacumbu.

The guards withdrew,

leaving Pavilion D inmates
to defend their block.

Would I be expected to get involved
in protecting the pavilion?

[in Spanish]
Yes, that's the law of the prison.

Because if there are riots,
the guards leave

and the inmates take charge.

No cameras,

no press, no guards, no directors,

nobody gets inside.

Fuck me.

It's not surprising that men riot over
the terrible conditions in the Tinglado.

In Tacumbu, as in the outside world,
money buys you a better life

and people will go to extremes
to protect what's theirs.

It's my third day inside Tacumbu.

'Cause you can come,
you can brush your teeth,

you can wash your face, you can shower,

but you never feel clean.

Just something about this place,

the smell, the dirt,
the crumbliness of the whole prison...

No matter how many times you wash,

how many times
you try and keep yourself clean,

I feel dirtier and dirtier
every day I'm here.

But at least I'm inside Pavilion D,

a world away from the hell outside.

The only thing that separates us in here

from them out there is money.

I'm amazed to discover
that my block boss, Edgar,

runs his own laundry business.

What would it cost me to have everything
that I've got on cleaned

and returned to me?

[in Spanish] Everything you're wearing
would cost you 33 cents.

But because we're friends,
would I get a discount?

No, there are no discounts or credit here.

Can prisoners make enough money in here

to become wealthy?

My income from my businesses here

is around 3 million per week,

approximately $500 of profit.

Five hundred dollars a week?

So for some people, they're better off
in prison than they are on the outside.

Yes.

I made less money outside
than I do here.

When I got into trouble,
I lost my house and everything I owned.

After six years in prison,
working legally here,

I was able to buy
a new house for my family.

It seems incredible
that prisoners can earn so much cash

whilst being incarcerated
for their crimes.

Pavilion D is
just one small part of Tacumbu.

And I'm shocked to discover that there's
an entire section of the prison

where inmates can set up
and run their own business.

With so little funding
from the government,

private enterprise is
encouraged throughout the prison

by the authorities.

What-- What is it that you're making?

[in Spanish] I am making a pionona.

Pionona is like a croissant
filled with toffee.

This area is called the marketplace
and they've got everything here.

It's like walking into another world.
I mean, this is crazy.

There are restaurants for men with money
who don't like the prison food.

A barbershop, a computer technician,

and even a carpenter who makes
bespoke furniture for wealthy prisoners.

But unlike Pavilion D,
running a business or living here

doesn't come for free.

To stay in this part of the prison is
considered a privilege

because you have
to have the means to stay here.

For example,
it would cost you $150 a month

to sleep on the floor in this space.

Anywhere between $500 and $650,

it would cost you to sleep
in one of the rooms

that they've made behind there.

And the guards are in on it,
so they take a cut.

But the prisoners run it.

[Latin American music plays]

This place is crazy.

Like a mini-town within the prison,

where enterprising prisoners
are seizing the chance

to make themselves some money.

There are even pool bars
for the inmates who can afford it.

How're you doing?

[in Spanish] My name is Raphael.

-Pablo.
-Pablo.

-[in Spanish] Very good.
-[in English] Can I give you a game?

It looks like you're setting up.

-Good, perfect.
-Okay.

Okay. So where's my stick?

-This one?
-Yes.

Oh!

I'm moving. Okay?

You worried?

You worried?

Do you own a shop or anything in here?

I do.

I'm a tattoo artist.

I should have guessed, right?

[chuckles] I should have guessed.

Pablo offers to take me on his next
tattooing job.

As he collects his equipment
from his room,

which he pays $350 a month for,

I'm struck by the irony of prisoners
having to lock their own cells.

Before he sets up,
I'm keen to find out how he ended up here.

[Rowe] You've got
a lot of tattoos yourself,

in particular the teardrops on your eyes.

What do they represent?

[in Spanish]
It represents all the suffering

I've lived with since I was born.

You've obviously had
a hell of a life story

'cause you've got a lot of tattoos.

My life story is complicated.

Pablo killed his father,
who he alleges was abusive.

[in Spanish] I decided to confront him.

He was a very powerful person,
very wealthy.

He said that no one would believe me.

Because he was very wealthy.

I decided to stand up to him
and he started to threaten me.

I shot him with his own weapon.

Do you regret doing what you did, Pablo?

I do regret it. He was my father.

What were you eventually
convicted of in the courts, Pablo?

I'm in here for murder.

First-degree murder.

Twenty years.

Pablo's client today
is the boss of this block.

So no pressure.

[Rowe] What tattoo are you having?

-[man in Spanish] A dry tree.
-Take your shirt off.

What kinds of tattoos do you do
more than anyone or...

[Pablo in Spanish]
I always give them ideas

that suit their personalities.

Feel like giving it a go?

Are you up for it?

I... [splutters]

You know it's gonna be spoiled, right?

You know I'm not gonna be able to--
I've never done this before, so...

You... You are taking such a risk.

No. You can do it. It's pretty easy.
I'll talk you through it.

Let me--

-[chuckles nervously]
-[Pablo laughs]

You're smiling.
If I was you, I wouldn't be smiling.

[tattoo machine buzzes]

I can imagine
that botching the permanent body art

of a high-ranking inmate
is an occupational hazard.

All right. That's enough.

I'm getting carried away.
I'm thinking I'm doing a good job.

And that's not bad though, is it?
That look bad?

[in English] Not bad.

I'm relieved to return
the tattoo needle to Pablo.

Leaving Pablo in the marketplace,

I'm struck by how this town in a prison

is giving inmates the means
to lead a life away from crime.

It's rehabilitation by accident
for the lucky few.

Back on Pavilion D,

Justo's finished work,
and he is heading off to the gym.

He says he has a friend there
he'd like me to meet.

In the well-used prison gym,

Justo introduces me
to his sparring partner, Richard.

Hi.

How do you know each other?

[in Spanish] We met in jail.

[in Spanish] We were roommates.

Okay, so did you learn to box
while you was in prison?

The truth is that I was
a professional boxer when I was outside.

Richard, do you have a nickname?

Do they call you something?

Yes. My father, who was a boxer, too,
was known as the Panther,

so I was called The Little Panther.

However, now that I'm a grown-up,
they called me Panther.

But I grew apart from him
when I fell into criminality.

My dad was heartbroken

and wasn't proud of me anymore.

Do your family visit you?
Does your dad come and see you?

Yes, he came once.

I don't know how many years ago,
maybe four years. He came once.

The reason why
I want to get on track again

is that I want to reach my father's level.

I want to reach the goal
my father had set for me

before I got into criminality.

That's what I'm showing tomorrow.

You're in prison.
Where are you going tomorrow?

Tomorrow,
for the very first time in history,

I'll fight for
the South American Championship

inside this prison.

You're fighting... tomorrow...

for the South American Championship?

No way.

Exactly.

God.

In fact, Richard's comeback
has less to do with God

and more to do
with Tacumbu's prison director

who's financed Richard's comeback
over months of training.

He's even secured sponsorship

and got the event televised
live from the prison.

Ding-ding!

-[prisoners laughing]
-[Rowe imitates crowd cheering]

Good luck.

Good luck tomorrow.

[exhales deeply]

I wish the Panther well,
but from what I've seen of Tacumbu,

the prison would be better off
spending precious time and money

trying to eradicate the violence
and rampant drug-taking.

It's a point I'm keen to put
to the man responsible,

Prison Director Jorge Fernandez.

How do you tackle the drug problem
that runs through this prison?

[in Spanish] Yes, we're working on that.

We have recently requested
from the government

more funding for guards.

When we get a sufficient number of guards,

we will be able to avoid
these scenarios that you're talking about.

We have proposed building
a rehabilitation center.

The problem is that our justice system
believes that they should be in prison

and not in rehab.

However, we've improved the food.

If these people didn't eat well,

their average lifespan
was only about one year.

The only way they can survive
is eating good food.

But with money in such short supply,

I'm keen to know why
the director is investing so much

in the Panther's comeback.

Your... Your involvement
in the Pantera's fight,

is that a sign that there is hope
among this mess, among this chaos?

[in Spanish] Yes, for sure.

This month he should be
having his parole approved.

With effort and dedication,

he'll leave here and he'll reintegrate
into society, for sure.

And-- And that in itself
is an achievement, is it?

That one man among 4,000...

bringing hope to others.

Yes, to help him accomplish his dream

and place him as a role model
to the other inmates.

Unfortunately, with the amount
of people we have, the time that we have,

we can't give everyone a chance.

Only those we consider
capable of working outside.

So they could have a job
and survive out there

with the skills they learned in prison.

Some inmates have managed to turn Tacumbu
into a money-making opportunity,

learning business skills along the way.

But it's necessity
driving this informal rehabilitation,

and I'm not sure
I buy into the director's belief

that the Panther will inspire
all the prisoners.

But his fight is certainly
going to be quite a show.

It's my final day at Tacumbu,

and I'm amazed to find that this morning,

the prison is
even more crowded than usual.

This is one of four weekly visitors' days.

[Rowe] This is really strange

because traditionally,
prisoners have visits in visiting halls

where the guards can observe
what they're doing

so no contraband gets in.

Here,

their visitors are in the very place
where they're locked up overnight.

Three thousand relatives have arrived
to see their loved ones.

It's an opportunity
for enterprising inmates

to make a little pocket money.

My cellblock boss, Edgar, is no exception.

Edgar, how're you doing?

-[in Spanish] Hi, Raphael! How are you?
-Good to see you.

-Good?
-Are you well?

[in English] Yeah, yeah.

You're working today.

[in Spanish] I am working.
It's visiting day, we're making food.

Okay, so you're not having visits.
You're just providing food for visitors?

No, I do have a visitor.
She is my missus, she works with me.

-Oh, this is your wife? Ah!
-Yeah.

-Hello.
-Hello.

Are you doing something at the moment?

You want me to do something?

I need help here.

Okay. What do you need me to do?

You are going to deliver food.

I popped in to see Edgar for one minute
and he's put me to work straight away.

Edgar is a shining example

of the prison director's
do-it-yourself philosophy.

With thousands of hungry guests,

he's launched a successful
food business...

with its own
kitchen-to-cell delivery service.

It looks like I'm going
to a special cell, actually.

Hola! Ah, you're welcome.

-Hola!
-[man speaks Spanish]

[Rowe] Okay?

You know, that looked like
a really posh kingpin's cell, you know?

That was a big...

What looked like the, um...

you know, the presidential suite.

One happy customer.

[Edgar in Spanish] I'm going to count it.

Maybe not in South America,
but in the world outside of Paraguay,

people would find this bizarre and strange

that your wife and yourself are allowed

to run a restaurant
in the prison selling food,

handling real money.

It's not that strange.
Because if we don't work,

there's no money.

And we have kids to feed.

How did you and Edgar meet?
Did you meet, um, on the outside?

Were you married on the outside,
or did that all happen with you in prison?

[in Spanish] Here, we met here.

-Oh, you met together in prison?
-Yes.

Oh, really?

How did that come about?

Because you don't just wander down
the prison corridor and get chatted up

by Edgar, did you? No.

So how did you meet Edgar
in the first place?

No, I didn't come here looking,

neither did I expect
to find my husband here,

but it happened.

You're a brave woman.

The fear is always present,
but what can you do?

I have to come.

What do you think is going to happen
when he comes out?

Because there will come a time
when he's released

and all this will be left behind.

Our idea is to set up
this kind of business on the outside.

So it's slowed down a little bit.
So can I take my break now, boss?

[in Spanish] Yes.

Have I passed the test though?
Will I be paid?

I suppose so.

You're a tough boss, man.

Good luck, Teresa.

This guy's tough.

Is it a good thing?
Of course, it's a good thing.

He's earning legal money inside a prison.

A prison that hasn't the resources
to provide him with anything.

So he's doing it himself
and that in itself has got to be praised.

His wife is in here.

Is she safe? How dangerous is it?

She is aware of the risk,
and she's prepared to take those risks,

because she believes
that what they've got going on here

will change his life when he gets outside,
and that's all that really matters.

Edgar may have had
to rehabilitate himself,

but I feel he has a good chance
of turning his life around.

Now, as the sun sets over Tacumbu,

it's almost time
for the Panther's shot at redemption.

The security is really high tonight.
They've got some Special Force guys here.

Um, but I'm gonna go in and see
how they're preparing

for what's gonna happen
in the next couple of hours

He's looking pretty, pretty relaxed.

I don't want to interfere. You focus.

The fight itself is in a hall
right next-door to Tacumbu.

A few inmates have been
allowed to attend and will sit alongside

members of the public,
high-profile politicians,

and specially-invited guests.

Richard is still hoping
his estranged father,

the Panther Senior, will be one of them.

[in Spanish] I'm grateful for those
who made this possible.

To the people God put upon my path
to make this tournament come true.

To my dad, who has been
the driving force for me to...

And right on cue,

his father, who he hasn't seen
for four years, arrives.

[man in Spanish]
Here is your dad for you, Panther.

Oh!

[reporter in Spanish] You can see
this is an emotional moment

[crowd applauds]

How could I doubt becoming the champion

when I have been given this gift.

[fight official announcing in Spanish]

With sponsorship from a major gas company,

the fight is being
transmitted live to the nation.

[boxing bell rings]

[intermittent shouting]

After the fatal riots
of a fortnight ago,

Tacumbu finally seems to be gaining
media attention for the right reasons

as Prison Director Fernandez was hoping.

[audience shouting]

Prisons are usually geared towards
either punishing or rehabilitating.

But here, inmates must rely
on their own strength of will to survive.

Maybe it's the desire to show his dad,

or maybe prison life has focused
Panther's hope of a better future...

[audience cheers]

...but he demolishes his opponent
after just two rounds.

[cheering, whistling]

[Rowe] Well done, man. Well done.

You did The Panther proud. Well done!

The Panther's victory may succeed
in raising the prison's profile,

but without serious funding,

surely Director Fernandez can only manage
Tacumbu's deep-rooted problems,

not solve them.

[metal door screeches]

[exhales heavily]

That's the end of my time in Tacumbu.

The prison director is doing
the best he can to improve

the conditions in this complex,
wild, and dangerous prison,

but keeping inmates alive
and the murder count down

is probably the best he can achieve.

For me, prison should be
about turning men out better

than what they entered.

But with so many prisoners carrying knives

and allowing drugs as the price for peace,

probably the best thing for Tacumbu
is to raze it to the ground.