All language subtitles for Inside.the.Worlds.Toughest.Prisons.S05E02.NF.WEBRip.DDP5.1.x264-STRONTiUM.en

[Rowe] Manila City Jail, the Philippines.

One of the most overcrowded prisons
in the world.

The government's controversial war
on drugs

has pushed its inmate population
to the brink.

Drugs, drugs again, murder.

-You've been in prison ten times.
-Yeah.

Five thousand men
are crammed into this prison

built for just 1,200.

I cannot believe what I am seeing.

I mean, I'm lost for words, to be honest.

With only one guard for every 400 inmates,

parts of this penitentiary
are run by criminal prison gangs.

I don't want my children
to be victims of these people.

My name's Raphael Rowe,

and I'm spending a week
locked up in this packed jail

alongside notorious criminal gangs,

who just, six months ago, went
on a murderous rampage, killing rivals.

[in Tagalog]
What I saw was really like war.

But it's not my first time behind bars.

I was convicted in the UK
of a murder I did not commit,

and sentenced to life with no parole.

It took me 12 long years
to clear my name.

Now I'm traveling the globe

to discover what life is really like

inside some of the world's
toughest prisons.

[dark, percussive music]

Manila, the Philippines.

This country is gripped
by a drugs epidemic

that has led to a huge crime wave
and gang wars.

-[officer] Your son?
-[woman sobs]

President Rodrigo Duterte rode to power

on a murderous promise to deal
with the drug problem

by killing producers,
dealers, and users.

[in English]

Tonight, I'm heading out on a drugs raid

with one of the frontline units

mercilessly prosecuting

the president's war on drugs.

I'm inside the Philippines Drug
Enforcement Agency's headquarters,

and as you can see behind me,
their operatives are getting ready

to go out on an operation.

Their target: a suspected drug dealer.

[brooding music plays]

How big a problem
is drugs here in the Philippines?

Uh, prior to the assumption
of the president right now,

this is a major national problem.

But as of now,
I think we are winning the war.

That's what we're doing right now.

-And you consider it a war.
-Oh, yeah, it's a war.

It's a war against humanity,
a war against mankind.

The target is in a poor shantytown
in East Manila.

-[agent 1 over radio] Now.
-[agent 2] Go.

-[agent 1] Go. Keep going. Go.
-[agent 2] Go.

[agent 1] Let's go!

[dogs barking]

I think they've arrived
at their destination.

[dog barking]

[Rowe] The suspect is
a young pregnant woman with a child.

[tense music playing]

[woman in Tagalog]
That is not mine!

[Rowe] They've found something.

[woman in Tagalog]
Please have mercy on me. Have mercy on me!

-[Rowe] Looks like drugs...
-[woman crying]

...inside little packages
of what I suspect is meth.

[woman in Tagalog]
I am not a drug pusher.

Crystal meth, a powerful stimulant,

is the drug of choice
for many poor Filipinos

who use it to work longer hours
to survive.

-[woman sobbing]
-She's absolutely distraught

and hasn't stopped crying.

And the only word
I can make out from her is "baby."

[child wailing]

[woman sobbing]

And she must know that her kid
is going to be taken away.

This woman,
who is a suspected drug dealer,

knows her fate...

is going to be prison.

[brooding music fading away]

[tense music plays]

This woman, like countless others
arrested every day for drugs here,

will be sent to one of Manila's jails.

And I'm heading to the toughest
of them all, Manila City Jail,

to spend a week as a prisoner.

Since coming to power in 2016,

the government claim
Duterte's war on drugs

has taken over 500 million US dollars'

worth of narcotics off the streets,

and made over 160,000 arrests.

This hardline purge has swollen

the already overcrowded prison population
to breaking point.

What scares me more than anything

is the fact that there is only one guard
for 400 prisoners.

How do you protect prisoners
from the threat of violence?

I'm told it's the prisoners
who protect the prisoners.

I don't know what to expect
when I get into this prison.

[ominous music plays]

[horn honks]

[gate creaking]

Manila City Jail
was built for 1,200 inmates,

but it's now crammed
with almost 5,000 prisoners.

[guards speaking Tagalog]

-Here?
-[man yells indistinctly]

-[guard] Your name?
-Raphael Rowe.

To me.

Up your hands. Like this.

This is a first,
being searched out in the open.

What's the stamp for?

-[guard] To identify you as a PDL.
-[Rowe] A PDL?

Persons deprived of liberty.

These stamps now define me
as a person deprived of liberty.

[woman] Right index.

They're taking my biometrics.

You may proceed now.

[Rowe] A distinctive color, isn't it?

"Changing lives
and building a safer nation."

I wonder what that actually means.

-[camera beeps]
-Once processed by the prison,

I'm handed over to inmates,
not guards, who'll take me to my cell.

[indistinct chattering]

[Rowe] It's heaving.
There's so many men

in these yellow T-shirts that I'm wearing.

Like a beehive.

It's packed.

Not just with prisoners,

but also their visiting families as well.

[boy giggles]

I'm being sent to Dorm 4,

where all new prisoners are sent
for assessment

before being allocated a final cell.

I'm led upstairs to my new quarters.

[indistinct chattering]

I...I cannot believe what I am seeing.

I mean, I'm lost for words, to be honest,

of the space that I'm in and the amount
of men that are squeezed into this space.

Because this place
is chronically overcrowded.

Something I've never seen before.

[brooding music plays]

Oh, here?

I'm sent to the back of the block,
where I'll be sleeping tonight,

and meet my new cellmates.

-How are you doing? I am Raphael.
-J.R., and...

-T.J.
-[Rowe] T.J., Raphael.

-Ading.
-[Rowe] Ading.

What was you convicted and sentenced to?

Um...

Drugs.

How long did you get sent to prison for?

Seven months.

[Rowe] Been in prison before?

[J.R.] It's my first time here.

What's your drug of choice?

-Meth. Yeah.
-Meth.

[Rowe] Have you been sent to prison
because you were caught using drugs?

-Yeah.
-[Rowe] Not selling drugs?

-Was you selling them...?
-Not selling.

-Just using.
-Just using.

I don't feel like I'm in a prison.
I feel like I'm inside a cattle cage.

[in Tagalog] We cannot do anything
but endure our situation now.

There's 400 men in this crowded dorm,

so I'm relying on J.R.
to show me the ropes.

Can you give me a tour?
I want to know how things work here.

Yeah. Okay. Yeah, come on.

[Rowe] We can walk anywhere
we want to right now.

[J.R.] Yeah.

Everywhere I look, there are prisoners.

There's no free space at all.

This is the written rules
inside the Dorm 4.

You can see "patakaranan ng Dorm 4,"

meaning "respect all the hierarchy
of Dorm 4."

-[Rowe] Prison governors.
-[J.R.] No, they're all prisoners.

[Rowe] High-ranking prisoners.

-Yes.
-Oh, right. Okay.

-These are the written rules?
-Yeah, written rules.

What are the unwritten rules?

[J.R.] If you get bump to the visitors,

you will get
um, 50 slap of the paddle.

-From the what? Paddle, like a stick?
-Paddle, yes.

You mean a visitor's walking,
and you bump in like that?

-Yeah.
-Accidentally?

[J.R.] Accidentally.
Also... No questions at all.

Okay, 50?

Oh, just like this kind of wood.

[Rowe] And they beat
the back of your legs. How hard?

Okay.

-[Rowe] Fifty?
-[J.R.] Fifty.

-By the prisoners?
-Yeah.

[Rowe chuckles] I felt that.

It's astonishing that the rules
are not only written by the inmates,

but the punishments are dished out
by the prisoners, too.

[gate creaks]

It's 10:00 p.m.,
and we're all locked in for the night,

crammed into the dormitory like sardines.

[Rowe] How would we sleep

in a space that is not big enough
for the amount of men

that are being kept here?

[in Tagalog]
Lie down.

[J.R.]
They sleep just like that.

[speaks Tagalog]

Like this.

Why you got your leg over him?

[J.R.] To get some space with...

[in Tagalog] To survive here, you have
to learn to get along with others.

[sorrowful music plays]

I'm shocked by the situation

and the inmates' acceptance of it.

[Rowe] "We've got to survive," they say.

"We got no choice," they say.

And the fucking reality is, they don't.

It only takes one or two guys
to say, "I've had enough.

I'm not gonna stand for this.
We've got to riot

because this is not
what we should be treated like,

regardless of what I've done."

That bothers me.

[crickets chirping]

[upbeat music  plays]

It's my second day in one of the most
overcrowded prisons in the world.

I'm put straight to work
with the sweeping crew,

made up entirely by members
of the prison's LGBTQ community,

who have chosen to do this work together.

[Akashi]
LGBT community! LGBT community!

-Hi.
-Hi. I'm Raphael.

-I'm told...
-I'm Akashi.

-What's your name?
-Akashi.

Akashi.

Akashi, I've been that I've got to work
with you and your gang of cleaners today.

You show me. I'll follow.

You sweep the floor.

-Sweep... On my own? With who?
-You sweep the floor.

-To across there?
-Other girls, make a line.

-Um...
-Sweep the floor.

[indistinct chatter]

[inmate] Sweep the floor.

[Rowe]
How long have you been in here?

-[Kenneth] Been here three months.
-[Rowe] And what's that for?

I'm involved in drugs.

Oh. Are you convicted or on remand?

First convicted.

-Yeah, first convicted.
-Huh?

First convicted.

-You as well? First convicted?
-[Akashi] Yeah, she too.

How long?

Two years.

-You've been here two years?
-Yeah.

So who's your partner?

-[in Tagalog] My beshy.
-Oh, you two are partners.

Just like me, confidently beautiful
with a heart.

-[Akashi] Yeah.
-Like that.

[Akashi laughs]

Who should I give this back to?

[Akashi] Thank you.

Sweeping over,

I'm called to meet
counselor Hannah Nario-Lopez.

As a new prisoner, she must decide
which dorm I'll be moved to

for the rest of my time here.

Hi. Hey, Raphael. I'm Hannah.

First, she questions me
about my family support network.

I would like to know more
about your family.

Were you raised by your parents?

How was your relationship
with your siblings?

I was raised by my parents.
I do have siblings, um,

and our relationship
is very healthy and good.

-Do they know that you're here?
-They do know I'm here.

Do prisoners normally respond
to these types of inquiries?

'Cause I suppose prying
into their history,

which... It can make them quite defensive.

We do understand that.

So we ask their experience
about their past,

educational attainment,

substance abuse problems.

This information should enable the prison

to decide suitable rehabilitation for me.

Given that this prison is so overcrowded,

how can I be confident
that anything I ask for,

you can provide?

We try to do our best to invite,
you know, external help.

That's one of the problems,

'cause officers here
are also severely undermanned,

and they really rely
on the shared governance

and the understanding that we have

uh, with the PDLs.

So, the prisoners have control
over other prisoners?

That's what shared governance is.

I'm not gonna call it control.

It's more of accountability.

Each dorm has a mayores,

uh, or their gang leader,
their pangkat leader.

But here in the Philippines,
the pangkat, or the gang,

is actually a positive implement

of an alternative structure
of governance.

The mayores makes sure

that everybody follows
the rules of the jail.

But that can be abused.
Even by prisoners?

-Yes.
-You give a prisoner the power...

We're not going to deny that.
But what can we do right now?

The cooperation between inmate
and officer is very important,

since we're severely undermanned,

and the moment that an inmate, a PDL,

um, you know,
causes some sort of disorder...

-Could trigger something bigger.
-It could trigger something bigger.

That shocked me.

I've never heard of a prison

that relies officially
on the inmates to police themselves.

Traditional gangs

have a hierarchy

of the kingpin,
the don, the main gangster.

And then you have
all the following ranks beneath that.

So, I wonder if what's happening here

is that traditional gang mentality
and culture,

or whether there is something
completely different going on.

After their daily chores are completed,

the inmates are free to socialize
and hustle for the money they need

to buy essentials,

like extra food to survive.

Some inmates even have little businesses.

They seem to sell anything and everything.

Even these clothes are on the floor
for sale.

They're selling lumps of coal,

which I suspect prisoners use
to burn, to cook.

Thanks to the courts being overwhelmed
by the avalanche of drug charges,

most of the 5,000 prisoners here

are actually on remand.

Many will serve years
before they get their day in court.

[in Spanish]
How are you?

Hans was one of a group charged
with beating to death a fellow student

in an initiation ritual that went wrong.

[inaudible]

Before I was confined,
I was a law student.

[in English]
Oh, right.

-You spend most of your time in this...
-Yeah.

How long have you been
in this dormitory?

-[Hans] Almost two years.
-[Rowe] Two years?

-So you are not convicted.
-I'm not convicted.

And I'm innocent.

Why has your trial not taken place?

Our case is actually running
pretty much faster

than a regular case.

I wouldn't call two years fast.

The last mayores was in here for 14 years.

He was eventually acquitted.

-So he spent 14 years in prison.
-Yeah.

Do your family believe
that you wasn't involved?

Yeah. They visit me here
almost every weekend.

They come here, and they visit me.
They bring food,

so at least I may taste food outside jail.

-Are you part of the gang culture here?
-No.

Uh, they labeled me as a querna.

When you say a PDL is a querna...

querna is someone
who is not affiliated to any gang.

Right, okay.

What's the benefits
of being in a gang, then?

Oh, you have...
you have a support system.

I believe I don't need that support
from the gang.

So for those who don't have family
bringing food

and money and stuff to help you,

they get it
from their fellow gang members.

It's like, uh...
it's like joining a community.

Inside a gang, they, um...
What do you call this?

They have their own, uh...
they have their own fund.

They have their own programs,
their own projects.

What's expected
of those gang members, then?

Are they expected to do things
in return for those rewards?

Yeah.

Uh, the gang has
their own Magna Carta.

They have their own rules.

So, if you follow those rules,
you would get incentives.

And if not, you will get
disciplinary action from them.

What's the worst disciplinary action?

Uh...

-Can I say that? [chuckles]
-That's up to you, if you want to.

Okay, from what I observe,

uh, you're gonna get, um...
you're gonna get beaten.

If your co-gang member

uh, had done something bad
to a member of another gang,

we will put a disciplinary action on our...

We will discipline him rather than it
become a war between different gangs.

So, in a way, that becomes a way
for keeping the peace here in jail.

[Rowe] Okay.

Hans is lucky.

He has money, so he doesn't have
to rely on the gangs to support him.

But everything I'm hearing so far
is pointing to the fact

that it's the gangs who are really
in charge of this prison,

not the guards.

Tomorrow, I'm being moved
to a new cell block,

and I'm nervous about what awaits me.

[ominous music plays]

It's moving day,

when we'll be transferred to the cells

where we'll spend
the rest of our sentence.

-How are you doing? You good?
-How are you?

Is everybody waiting for the guards
to come and tell them where they're going?

[J.R.] Yes.

I have a symbol here, Bahala Na gang,

so it's okay
if I go to Bahala Na gang dorm.

Is that where you hope to go?

Yes.

[in Tagalog] I know a lot of people
in the Bahala Na gang.

Many of them are my childhood friends.

When did you first become
one of the gang members?

[in English]
When I get caught, January 20,

I see one of the prisoners
in a police station.

[in Tagalog]
Um, I knew him. He was my neighbor.

So to get privileges in prison,
I joined the gang.

-They look after you.
-Yes.

What do you have to do in return?

[in Tagalog]
If have visitors with...

[in English]
So food and money, I will give them.

Bahala Na is one of the four
big criminal gangs in the Philippines,

operating both outside
and inside the prison.

And although J.R. may have joined
for protection,

there's no guarantee he'll end up
in the dorm controlled by them.

[Joz in Tagalog]
Take your belongings.

[J.R.] Right hand, right shoulder.
Just follow.

The prison authorities decide
which cells prisoners are sent to.

But the men collecting us
are gang bosses, known as mayores,

from our new dorms.

[Joz in English]
Sit down. Align yourself.

[J.R.] Sit here.

Dorm 8, Raphael Rowe.

-Raphael Rowe?
-Yes.

[Joz in Tagalog]
You'll go with Cordero. Cordero!

I've been allocated to Dorm 8,
run by the Bahala Na gang,

but it doesn't look like J.R.
is being sent there.

You have to see the worry on his face,
actually, that he's not been called yet.

You're not going to Dorm 8?

He's not called you?

-I don't think so.
-No?

-I don't know.
-Okay.

-Good luck, man.
-Good luck, man.

[Joz in Tagalog]
Let's go. Let's go now.

I'm led into Dorm 8,

home of the notorious
Bahala Na gang, who ironically

run much of the drug crime
that put many of the men in here.

Once inside, the gang leader spells out
the rules to all of us new inmates.

[Arsenio in Tagalog] Comrade.
What is the only thing that we ask of you?

Behave as a person
so that we will not have a problem.

If you are carrying a heavy problem
with our comrades or with other groups,

you inform me as mayores,

and we will act on it.

Do you understand, fellow inmates?

Love, brotherhood,
that is all that matters now.

[Rowe] I've never come across that before.

They've been given the responsibility
to control each other.

And they keep going on
about this respect and discipline,

something that they've
come up with themselves.

There are no prison guards

in this dormitory.

[indistinct chattering]

The rules seem to be saying,
"We're a brotherhood,

and this place is run by a gang."

I haven't even had a chance
to see my new cell

before Arsenio puts me to work.

Hey. Good evening. My name is Roger.

[in mixed English and Tagalog]
Can you help me to help in the kitchen?

[Rowe] Okay.

I'm joining Roger's team
of kitchen porters.

They collect food for Dorm 8

from the central prison kitchens
three times a day.

I'm picking up the rice, and apparently,
there's strict portion control.

Start counting per one people...

-[Rowe] Right.
-...300 grams.

[Rowe]
Three hundred grams. What else?

[in Tagalog] At lunch...

[in English]
rice and one piece chicken.

Okay.

[Roger] Can you...

[Rowe] Oh, I've got to do
the heavy lifting. Of course.

Damn, this is heavy, man. Oh!

We carry the food back
for all the waiting prisoners in my dorm.

[man clamoring]

[inmates chattering indistinctly]

[sighs]

When I was carrying the rice,
the only thing on my mind

was not the weight. It was tripping over
and spilling it so no one would get fed.

So I was quite nervous.

Is there a budget for all of the cooking?

[Roger] Seventy-five pesos, one person.

[Rowe] So it's about one dollar, 20 cents.
Per person. Every day.

[Roger] Every day.

With so little food and so many men,

we have to weigh out the portions
very carefully,

so no one is left without
at the end of the line.

[Roger] Over.

-Over.
-[Roger] 300 grams.

Good.

[Rowe] Okay.

Where is the vegetables?

-[Roger] Chop suey.
-[Rowe] Where? Okay.

Okay, you're welcome.

Thank you.

-Thank you, my friend, Raphael.
-Yes. Okay.

With the rice dished out,
I'm joining cell boss Arsenio

to find out if it really is true

that it's his gang,
not the guards, in charge here.

[meows]

How does this place work?

Because you don't have
any prison guards here.

[Arsenio in English]
We maintain discipline,

because they obey our rules.

Gang leaders, they must obey me.

Rules and regulations in this dorm.

And if they don't?

We give them sanctions.

We have, uh, many sanctions,
to clean around,

uh, starting the morning
up to the evening.

[Rowe] If they don't follow the rules,
they get sanctioned.

If they did not obey...

uh, we can bring them to the office
of the BJMP.

Okay.

And...

[in Tagalog]
they take care of it. They will...

[in English] They are the one
who will discipline that person.

But criminal gangs aren't known
for being benevolent

to members who don't toe the line.

Other prisoners are scared of
the gang leaders because of the violence.

Maybe the past gang leaders.

We help each other,
especially when there is hate

or there is a problem about their family.

[in Tagalog]
We can also help financially.

Even outside,
our fellow inmates or gangmates...

[in English]
they help us.

[Rowe] I'm starting to discover
that the context of gang

is very different here.

There are no prison guards
in this dormitory monitoring,

supervising,
or disciplining these prisoners.

They do it themselves.

But precisely because of this control,

there's nowhere to hide for the inmates.

If anything,

it could be harder
than when the authorities are in charge.

Tomorrow, I want to find out what it means

for the average prisoner
when the gangs are king.

It's nearly 10:00 p.m.,

time for me to head to my cell.

Like in my first dorm, all the men
who don't have gang rank or money

to buy space sleep on the floor.

I can sit here?

Janard is the night watchman.

He does this job for Arsenio,

as he doesn't have any money
to pay the gang.

And can anybody sleep
wherever they want to sleep,

or is everybody in their space
and that's their space?

[in Tagalog] Me. I'm the one
who decides where they stay.

Is there any space on the floor
for any new person?

There's still a few spaces.

Looks like every inch of space is taken
up by somebody sleeping on the floor,

but you're not sleeping on the floor.

I watch everyone and their stuff.

I'm just checking that everyone is safe

and everything is safe
in case there's an emergency.

What sort of things do you see
at night that happens,

that's not supposed to happen?

Sometimes, things go missing...

or people run out of places to sleep.

[pensive music plays]

[Rowe] I just can't believe my eyes.

It's just absolutely crazy.

Every space on the floor,
upstairs, downstairs, in every corner,

there are grown men trying
to squeeze next to each other,

over each other, to go to sleep.

I mean, it's better than Dorm 4,

but it's still so claustrophobic.

The simple things that we take for granted

have been taken away from these men,

especially one
of our most prized possessions:

privacy.

[pensive music continues]

[tense music plays]

It's my first full day
in the Bahala Na gang dorm.

I'm amazed how organized this place is,

given that it's run
by the prisoners themselves.

But I want to know what it's like
for ordinary prisoners

living under the control
of a criminal gang.

A fellow inmate
has offered to show me around.

-How you doing? Raphael. What's your name?
-I'm Jin Ragan.

Jin Ragan.

-How long have you been in this prison?
-Um...

Eight months? Oh, nine months.

-Nine months.
-Yeah.

-Is it your first time?
-No.

No. You're... before?

I am... ten times.

-You've been in prison ten times?
-Yeah.

-Why?
-Because, um... First case, murder.

You've been in prison for murder already?

And then second case, robbery holdup.

And then third, fourth, drugs.

Fifth, robbery, robber snatching.

[in Tagalog]
It's all about drugs, all drugs.

[Rowe] Who did you kill?

[in English]
Two gangster.

[Rowe] A enemy.

Enemy gangster, yeah.
In a drive-by and then I killed him.

Jin offers to show me what money
and rank can buy in this dormitory,

starting with the gang boss' quarters.

This is, uh, the mayores' room.

[Rowe] Okay, can I have a look?

[Jin in Tagalog] He's our father in charge
of the Bahala Na Gang.

[Rowe] This is the best I've seen
in the whole of this prison.

This is a palace.

He has his own personal TV,

enough space for a small double bed.

He's been rewarded very well.

Why does he have this and no one else?

We chose him because he was a good friend.
He never gave up on us.

He is our choice.
We put him there. We voted for him.

And the trusted lieutenants of the gang
are also rewarded

with much better cells

than all the other prisoners.

This is what we call kubol.
These cells are just for ten people.

[Rowe]
How do you earn this room then?

These are just given to us
by the gang boss in charge.

-Bye.
-[Jin speaks indistinctly]

And because the prison
is so short of staff,

the gang run courses for their members.

-[Rowe] Here?
-This, study room.

[man speaks indistinctly]

[in Tagalog]
Those who don't know how to read and write

attend courses taught by prisoners here.

One of Dorm 8's star inmates,
who has been taught to read and write

by the gang members, is Suzuki.

-[in English] Famous rapper in the jail.
-Okay.

[rapping in Tagalog]
♪ Many say that jail is hell ♪

♪ Prisoners are humans
Who act like demons ♪

♪ It is painful, it's hard to accept ♪

♪There are so many here
In the place to be ♪

♪ I think quickly I will become
Like a nightmare in your dream ♪

-Bravo.
-[Jin chuckles]

[inmates applauding]

[in Tagalog] I learned
how to read and write

with the help of my fellow prisoners.

How long have you been in Manila Jail?

I go back and forth here,
but now it's been a month.

You sound like you enjoy
coming back and forth.

Being free from here is a vacation.
Jail is our real home.

To say that prison is your house...

is sad to hear.

Surely, you could have a better life
outside than you can in here.

Nobody helps us.

My family doesn't have money.
My wife doesn't have money.

So, how do you make money in here?
Do you make money in here?

Yes, I have a business lending money.

Do you make good money from this business?

It can be frustrating
because sometimes people cannot pay.

So, what happens if somebody
can't afford to pay you it back?

We can't do anything about it.
If you hurt them, you will have a problem.

Thank you for sharing your rap, man.
It was really good.

It was nice to meet you, man.

Take that skill outside.

Use it outside, not in here.

I can't promise you.

I was shocked and saddened.

This is what Suzuki considers home.

But he can't cope out there.

But he's very proud of the fact

that he learned
to read and write in prison,

and he's gonna go out
with something he didn't have before.

I think that's the most important point.

They are working together to survive.

To educate themselves.

And that is impressive.

[pensive music plays]

[moody music plays]

Despite the apparent calm in this prison,

the Bahala Na gang is one
of several rival criminal gangs in here.

And just like everywhere else
in the world,

when gangs fall out, violence erupts.

Six months ago, war broke out
between two rival gangs in this prison.

Thirty-two prisoners were injured,

and the Sputnik gang
murdered two of the BCJ gang.

[indistinct chattering]

I'm Raphael. How are you doing?

-So, you're from the BCJ?
-Yes, sir.

Two of Ryan's gang, the BCJ,

were murdered by their rivals,
the Sputnik gang, in the riot.

[Rowe] Sputnik.

[Ryan]
The fight happened here.

-[Rowe] Everything's fine now?
-It's fine now.

[in Tagalog] Sometimes, it gets intense,
but we fix it right away.

[Rowe] What happens
when they get aggressive?

[Ryan] We communicate.

We get ahead of it.

We talk it out and immediately
try to resolve it.

Okay. You show me...
Introduce me to the mayore upstairs.

Ryan has invited me along
to his regular meeting

with the Sputnik gang leaders,
Ferdi and Jonathan.

[Rowe] What can you tell me
about what happened on that day?

[in Tagalog] What I saw
was really like war.

I couldn't stop my comrades.

Did the BCJ then seek revenge
for the death of two of their comrades?

[Ferdi] No, sir, not anymore.

When it happened, we took care of
the needs of those the dead left behind,

the funeral and the expenses
during their wake.

The groups are set aside now.

We are brothers.
That event became a lesson.

Even a small problem,
we talk about it.

A misunderstanding, we fix it.

They are responsible
to fix their comrades' problems.

It's the same with us.

Okay, thank you for sharing that.

The death of two prisoners
is a stark reminder

that this, and these conditions...

have a volatile tendency.

So the threat is always present,

the threat is always real...

that what happened a few months ago,

where two men lost their lives,

could happen again.

[tense music plays]

This afternoon, I'm catching up
with my dormmate Jin.

[in English]
Give him the ball. Okay.

[inmates cheering, applaud]

[Jin chuckles]

One of the problems of overcrowding

is that there's no space
for inmates to let off steam.

But the Bahala Na gang
has a solution for that.

Every week, they lay on an exercise class,

and the whole block joins in.

[upbeat music plays]

-[inmates chanting]
-[Jin] Clap.

-[Jin] Clap.
-[inmates chanting]

Clap. Come on.

[instructor] Are you enjoying?

-[cheering] Yeah!
-[instructor] Are you happy?

[all cheering] Yes!

[all chanting, laughing]

I've never seen a prison guard
dance on duty before.

[chanting continues]

[all cheering]

-[instructor] Are you happy?
-[all cheering] Yeah!

-[all applauding]
-[instructor] All right.

[inmates chanting] More!

No more for me, man. That's me, done.

[instructor]
Long live the Filipino community!

[inmates cheer]

[in Tagalog] It helps us to forget
our problems in prison.

The Zumba keeps us inspired and stops us
from worrying about our families,

from thinking about our loved ones.

Okay, man, look, good seeing you again.

In a place that can often be quite tense

and depressing,

it's amazing what a little bit of music,
a little bit of atmosphere...

and a little bit of participation can do.

It makes for
a much less volatile environment.

[tense music plays]

It's my sixth day inside one of the most
overcrowded prisons in the world.

Today, I'm swapping sides
and joining the guards

for a cell block search
with Senior Officer Hakabe

and Head of Security, Inspector Malamata.

And what are you hoping to find
in these searches?

Illegal contrabands, drugs.

Most of the prison is run

with this shared governance approach.

Is it... Is that also...

involved in how you carry out
your searches?

So we basically empower
those cell leaders,

and become our shared governance
or our partners,

so that they will be the one
managing their whole cell.

[instructor] Right!

They are so understaffed here
that the prison drafts in trainee guards

to help them do dorm searches safely.

The new recruits are gonna conduct
their search here today.

Um, they seem very militaristic.

It must be a warning sign
to all the prisoners

when they see this line of officers

in black T-shirts and combat shorts
entering their dormitory

that a search is about to take place.

First, the inmates are ordered outside.

Searching the prisoners
before they're removed from the dormitory

to make sure
they're not taking the contraband

they're looking for outside.

Unbelievably, the prison guards
ask the gang boss, T,

for permission to search the dorm.

It seems that the responsibility

for keeping the prison free
of contraband is shared.

[Rowe] Does this happen very often,

where the guards come in
and they search the dormitory?

It happens often,

usually two to three times a month.
The warden told us, the mayores,

we need to clean up the dormitories.

All mayores are given the responsibility

to clean the City Jail,
to make it drug free.

[Rowe] How do you feel about that,
and how do the prisoners feel about that?

[T] I am a little nervous,
because they might find something.

[Rowe] What do you mean,
you get nervous?

[T] I will be the one at risk.
As their mayores,

it is my responsibility.
No one should disobey me.

If there is someone
who doesn't do what I say,

I surrender them to the prison guards.

The search is over,
and the guards examine the haul.

It's just extraordinary in this prison,

a criminal gang leader, not the guards,

is the one that is really
keeping this dorm clean.

-[Rowe] This is the search spoils.
-[Malamata] Yes.

What would you say
is the most serious piece of contraband?

-[Malamata] This small pen.
-Are they not allowed pens?

Yes, because they can use this to stab.

-Right. Okay.
-For a PDL.

So that, uh, they're not...

[Rowe] You consider a pen
to be a dangerous weapon?

Yes, because they can use it
as a deadly weapon.

-But this is... This, can I touch it?
-[Malamata] Yes.

But this is surely more dangerous
than a pen.

-Yes, yes. It is also a dangerous one.
-[Rowe] Okay.

Searching prisoners

is commonplace
in prisons around the world.

I spoke to the main man in the dorm,

and he said that he himself and his team

themselves carry out
searches of prisoners.

Unheard of.

He was more concerned
about the consequences

of anything being found,

either directly on him or his dorm.

[speaking Tagalog]

There's a lot at stake
for the dorm leaders like T.

Step out of line,
and the guards will replace them,

and that means losing all the privileges
that come with their rank.

Despite the severe lack of money,

the prison do run
some rehabilitation courses

to help prisoners break away

from drug crime.

-[Rowe] How are you doing?
-Fine, thanks.

This course is being overseen
by guard Achapero.

This is what we call
the livelihood program.

They will do massage therapy.

Then when they're released from this jail,

they will have an extra income.

And to become also law-abiding
and productive citizens.

[in Tagalog] First, sir, sit there.

-[Rowe] Okay.
-And remove your shirt.

Remove my shirt.

[Edison] Cold pressure.

-[Rowe] You feel the bubble. Like a knot.
-Yeah.

-How long have you been doing it?
-Five days.

How long have you been in prison?

-Almost one year, sir.
-Almost one year.

What are your charges?

Drugs, sir.

What drug was it?

Shabu.

Shabu as in meth.

And why did that happen to you?

[Edison]
Because of the quota.

It's widely alleged Filipino police

have to make a minimum number
of drug arrests every day,

causing corrupt officers
to set up innocent people.

We were stopped by the police, sir.
We were just riding our motorcycle.

-Did you have drugs on you?
-No, sir.

They didn't get anything from us.
They just planted it.

When I was arrested, they said,
"Just confess,

and you will only get
a six month sentence."

So, innocent men like you are just
taken off of the street and put in prison?

Yes, sir. A lot of us
have a case like this.

Sir, even if we get angry,
we're stuck here.

We just accept it.

[Rowe] So you think this will
offer you another opportunity.

[in English] Yes.

[in Tagalog] If I go to another country,
I can use this.

[Edison]
All right, powder, sir.

[Rowe] That was very good.
So you're learning well.

Your story is sad, if it's true.

That is sad to hear.

-Good luck, thanks for the massage.
-Thank you, sir.

If the police really are
planting drugs on people

to meet arrest targets as Edison alleges,

then it's no wonder
this prison is so full.

And well-intentioned
rehabilitation like this

will struggle to have any impact
on the overcrowding.

Tomorrow, I'm going to get out.

Thousands more will not.

[mellow music plays]

It's my final day in Manila City Jail.

With so much overcrowding
and so few resources,

I want to understand
what the future holds for this jail.

Aye aye.

-Sir. Good afternoon.
-Warden Latoza, nice to meet you.

I'm meeting with the prison director,
Warden Latoza.

It's obvious to me from what I've seen

that there is an issue
around overcrowding.

Ideally, this facility should only cater
to 1,200 people.

But now we are having almost 5,000.
That's a challenge for us.

Seventy-two percent of people
detained here are facing drug charges.

Forty to 50 percent are reoffenders,
and that's a big problem for us,

because sometimes when people
who don't have a sense of family outside,

when they get out, they would rather,

"Oh, I want to commit crime.
I don't have anything to do to survive."

"I can still commit crime because
when I am caught, I go back to jail."

"My family is there,
I have a gang inside."

It's a vicious cycle
of people going in jail.

-That's a sad state of affairs.
-That's a sad... Yeah.

Shared governance is something I've heard
around the prison quite frequently.

How did it come about,
and why is it necessary?

Actually, the shared governance concept
here in the jail

is just the coping mechanism to
the inadequacy of resources that we have.

We could not have persons
to manage in the dormitories.

We have 14 dormitories.

If we are going
to put in personnel, staff,

we don't have any guards
to be designated in the towers.

And what if they get over the fences,
and they escape?

[Rowe] Why do you do it, then,

to do the job that you do,
under the extreme conditions?

At the end of the day,
we are all human beings.

These people also are victims,
sometimes, of social injustices outside.

My contribution now, as a person,

is to help these people know if I have
helped a person to renew his life,

to have his character, uh,

develop, then probably when they get out...

they will not commit crime.

And I don't want my children

-to be victims of these people.
-[Rowe] Mm.

-Thank you. It's been very interesting.
-Yes, sir.

-Good luck with what you're doing.
-Yes, sir.

It's obvious
the warden would like to do more,

but with the sheer number of prisoners
and such limited budget,

the prison is overwhelmed.

This is the end of my time
in Manila City Jail,

and it's clear to me
that President Duterte

and his government's
uncompromising war on drugs

has exacerbated overcrowding

in what is already one
of the most congested, underfunded,

and primitive prisons I've ever seen.

But despite this, management,
gangs, and the inmate population

seem to be coping
with this approach to shared governance.

For conditions to improve
and rehabilitation to work,

this place desperately needs
investment and resources.

[evocative music plays]