The community is now watching, listening and aware of lockdowns inside our prisons. The persistence with media, radio and newspaper, and with emails and phone calls is finally paying off. Next – a protest. What else is left to do?

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I never knew that people existed in the world that were so selfless and who really cared for others – especially people they have never met. It shocked me; all the people who helped me plan this rally from start to finish and who didn’t want anything in return.

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Their kindness, love and absolute passion to give vulnerable women a voice is now forever ingrained into my soul.

The day of the protest starts off unlike any other day.

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It’s 6:30am and I am in an Uber to 3CR community radio station to be interviewed by the Wednesday Breakfast team about why I am going to protest today and what I want from it.

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By 9am, I am heading back to my house, and it dawns on me that I am three months into my parole and I have two cars of strangers at my house waiting for me who have speakers, microphones, stickers, banners and flags in the boots of their cars ready to help me successfully complete my first protest.

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Who are these people? No idea. How did I meet them? Through one comrade who has more heart and passion than any other woman I have ever met.

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These comrades come into my home, we test the equipment, we chat then head off to the city, to the Corrections Victoria head office. We are ready for anything that may come our way.

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We get to the city, and we start unpacking and setting up speakers, microphones, banners and posters.

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I have help from 10 people I have never met. All who are waiting for my instructions to do anything I need them too. I just need them to be there with me, that’s all.

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We wave our hands and tell them we won’t stand for this treatment any longer. The lockdowns need to stop now.  

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The protest continues on foot, from one location to another, marching through the city. We are walking on tram lines, stopping trams, screaming on the megaphone. Too many coppers, not enough justice. Always was, always will be, Aboriginal land.

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My heart is beating fast but I look at all the faces of the people who are fighting beside me.

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We finish up at the park, and we talk about the women for whom we did this for.

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There is so much love that surrounds you while you are in prison. You won’t see it or probably ever hear about it, but it exists and when you are released to freedom you can join us and come and see for yourself. There are people who believe in you and want great things for you.

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We are those people, so keep fighting in there and come out stronger with a passion to join us in making change.