As Governor Andy Davy prepares to face residents at a public meeting tonight organised by the Wandsworth Prison Improvement Campaign (WPIC), a newly published prison diary reveals the depth of the crisis still unfolding behind the walls of HMP Wandsworth.
The diary, released yesterday by Inside Time, was written by remand prisoner Will Plastow and paints a picture of daily dysfunction, neglect and squalor—nearly a year after the Chief Inspector of Prisons condemned the jail as a “pit of deaths, drugs and despair.”
Despite promises of reform, and a government pledge last August to invest £100 million into improvements, Plastow’s account exposes a regime where even the most basic rights are frequently denied. His month-long log matches point-for-point the complaints long raised by WPIC, which has submitted detailed evidence to the House of Lords Justice and Home Affairs Committee.
Medical neglect. Rodent infestations. No hot water. Failing infrastructure. No access to books.
Plastow, a professional writer awaiting trial for offences linked to pro-Palestine activism, was transferred to Wandsworth in February. Within days, his personal court papers and novel manuscript had been lost in transit, his cell had no toilet seat, no phone access, and a broken window that left him sleeping in layers of clothing just to stay warm.
On some days, he was locked in for 24 hours. On others, he was denied exercise altogether—despite legal requirements mandating 30 minutes of outdoor access daily.
Between 25 February and 31 March, Plastow and his cellmate recorded the following:
- Outdoor exercise: Only 13 out of 35 days
- Hot showers: Just 6 days
- Laundry: Twice
- Library access: Zero
- 24-hour lockdowns: 8 days
- Time on the wing to use kiosks: 13 days, never more than an hour
The alarm bell in his cell was ignored for nearly two hours on one occasion. “They turned it off and walked off without asking what it was about,” he wrote. Such indifference reflects a wider pattern of inaction that has defined the prison’s recent history.
Repeat warnings
In April, we reported on a disturbing number of inmate deaths at HMP Wandsworth in the past year, further fuelling concerns about institutional collapse. The prison is now running at more than 150% of its intended capacity, holding upwards of 1,470 men in facilities designed for just 980. Most, like Will, have not been convicted of any crime—they are held on remand.
The Chief Inspector’s 2024 Urgent Notification warned that emergency alarms were routinely unanswered, self-harm and suicide rates were high, and basic order had broken down. “Wings were chaotic,” wrote Charlie Taylor. “Staff across most units were unable to confirm where all prisoners were during the working day.”
In August 2024, the Independent Monitoring Board reported the same: inhumane living conditions; a severe lack of experienced staff; “appalling” shower facilities; and much else. “Many of the same issues had been raised in previous IMB annual reports and ignored by the Ministry of Justice,” the chair of the IMB, Matthew Andrews, said in a statement.
The government response was swift but cosmetic: the appointment of a new governor, an emergency £1.2 million in staffing, and a promise of £100 million by 2027. Yet Plastow’s diary suggests those funds haven’t yet improved daily life for prisoners. He reports weeks without clean laundry, showers so cold they’re unusable, food arriving late or incorrect, and legal visits cancelled or mishandled—despite being on remand and preparing a defence.
One diary entry recounts being told not to bother cleaning up mouse droppings outside a staff office because other wings had rats. The message, he said, was clear: don’t point out the filth, just live in it.
Tonight, WPIC will again raise these exact issues in front of the governor—pressing him on infestations, hygiene, basic supplies, and institutional accountability. But after years of failure, missed benchmarks, and broken promises, campaigners say Wandsworth’s problems can no longer be seen as isolated or fixable.
The case for closure is growing.
The prison has become a pressure cooker of human suffering. It violates basic legal standards for care and confinement. It fails to distinguish between convicted criminals and untried detainees. It fosters despair and self-harm while delivering neither justice nor rehabilitation.
Built in 1851, HMP Wandsworth is one of the oldest prisons in the UK—a crumbling Victorian-era institution never designed to house nearly 1,500 men. Its age is more than cosmetic: the prison lacks modern plumbing, adequate heating, and fails to meet basic standards for sanitation and safety. Despite repeated inspections and investment pledges, the prison’s outdated infrastructure continues to collapse under the weight of modern demands.
Reform has been promised. Resources have been allocated. Yet conditions remain dire. So the question Wandsworth must now reckon with is this:
If not now, when do we shut it down?
