THE concrete-walled building in Clondalkin, Co Dublin, could pass for the headquarters of a software multinational. Instead this is a prison, the only one to be purpose-built since the foundation of the State.
Wheatfield Prison is a transfer, rather than a committal prison, a place where prisoners go to finish their sentences. Yesterday there were 305 men inside, with 42 on temporary release. It has a capacity of 320.
On an organised media "open day" yesterday, Anthony O'Connell let his spaghetti hoops go cold as he talked to the press on his way back to his cell. He is in for robbery - "jumping counters mostly". Beside him Kevin Crowley (22), explains that the two have been friends since the age of 12.
They both started taking heroin in their teens. "When I was on the gear I woulda robbed him if I could," Anthony said, "and I'd have robbed him," Kevin nods in agreement. They've both been in and out of prison. Now they say they've both had enough and want to "settle down" outside.
Wheatfield is the best prison they've been in, they said. "Look at this food," Kevin said, his tray loaded with bread, fish burgers, yoghurt and an orange. "You even get a choice of jams."
On the outside he lived on toast and heroin. Now his clothes fit him, he said, patting his chest to emphasise how good he feels.
Asked what their victims would feel about the "holiday-camp conditions", Kevin answers the question in a way that suggests he has thought about it before: "If we're treated like animals then we're gonna act like animals."
Seventy-eight of Wheatfield's prisoners are sex offenders in protected units. They have been separated from other prisoners since one was attacked soon after the prison opened. A further 114 other prisoners are also in protected units. Eleven are serving life sentences for murder.
The £45 million prison was opened in 1989 as a juvenile detention unit. "Unfortunately the numbers overtook that category," says the acting governor, Mr James Woods, formerly in charge at Mountjoy.
There are 262 staff members, 20 of them women. Drugs, mostly cannabis and heroin, are a problem. An unofficial survey of prisoners found that more than 60 per cent were or had been drug users while 40 per cent had been injecting.
In the visiting area, one security camera at the end of the visiting cubicles has been turned round to face the doorway. This is usually where prisoners stuff the drugs into their bodies, chief officer P.J. Molloy explains.
The prison is divided into 20, self-contained 16-man units extending from a central corridor. One is to be turned into a high-security unit for "disruptive prisoners" following the Mountjoy siege.
Two weeks ago one prisoner took another hostage, demanding drugs, Mr Woods said. He used a shoelace and a metal spike he had made in a workshop. The incident lasted just over an hour, after - which the prisoner was transferred and his hostage received a stitch for a puncture wound.
Each cell has a flush toilet and a sink. A panel on the wall includes a call button and a four-band radio. The prisoners decide which station will be on each band.
Maintenance costs for the prison and its equipment run at more than £1,000 a day.
However one "high-tech" piece of equipment has been suffering major glitches. The electronic locking system which opens all the cells in a unit from one panel has been out of order for almost 10 months. They hope to have it up and rung again by Monday.
