I'm a Post Office scandal victim – the only reason I didn't kill myself in prison was my unborn child

Independent

2 days ago

There was no way out. I had been locked up in a prison with blood on the walls and people self-harming all around me. I had been parted from my husband and my 10-year-old son – as well as the rest of my family – because the Post Office had successfully prosecuted me for stealing just under £75,000 in my role as a Surrey subpostmistress.
My sentence, at Bronzefield Prison in Surrey, was for 15 months. The accusations from the Post Office – and my conviction, in 2010 – had brought shame on my family and led to my husband being subjected to racially aggravated physical attacks several times. I thought to myself, 'What do I have to live for?'
But there was one reason in particular – the eight-week-old child growing inside me. When I was sentenced, I was two months pregnant. That child was my reason to live.
While I was incarcerated, I did everything I could to protect my growing baby – constantly worried that some harm would come to it from the unpredictable behaviour of my fellow inmates and the makeshift weapons they would carry.
Fortunately, my imprisonment would last just four-and-a-half months in total, which, nevertheless, still felt a huge length of time. For the rest of my sentence I had to wear an electronic tag. And that is how I gave birth to the child I had been carrying – in a hospital wearing an electronic tag. It is maybe not surprising that, because of the ordeal I had been through, my labour took three days.
My son is now 14 years old. My husband Davinder got me through my imprisonment while, on the outside, our eldest son, now 24, was there for him in turn.
So, I completely understand why some people may have taken their own lives after being accused by the Post Office of stealing money.
Throughout the process, the Post Office would not listen to any of us when we said that there was something wrong with their Horizon accounting software. They pursued their prosecutions so vigorously; so definite were they that there was nothing wrong with their systems – that even my legal team advised me to plead guilty to everything. But I refused, as I knew I had done nothing wrong.
Of course, we now know that the Horizon software was hopelessly flawed, which has led to more than 900 subpostmasters and subpostmistresses being convicted of theft, fraud and false accounting.
But the toll of those convictions affected not just those individuals, but their families, too. After I was released, for a long time I would not go to the school gates with the other parents, or to cricket matches my eldest son was playing in.
The actions of the Post Office denied my sons from having a normal childhood. For many years, Davinder and I didn't tell our youngest child what had happened to me before he was born. But he still came home from school one day saying that another pupil had asked him, 'Why did your mum take all that money?'
Before that, when the Post Office was demanding money back that I hadn't taken, I was desperately borrowing money from family members and selling my possessions. And then, after my time in prison, the lasting effects of the tag meant that I was always afraid to go out.
The Post Office prosecutions have had incalculable repercussions on so many lives, leading to much widespread trauma. This week's report on the scandal said that the Horizon inquiry had heard evidence from 59 subpostmasters and subpostmistresses who had contemplated suicide because of the pressures they were put under.
After my time in prison we moved away from West Byfleet, in Surrey, where we had the shop and post office. After having had my conviction overturned, I – now 50 – have been campaigning for the Horizon victims to be given proper settlements, but also for there to be some accountability.
No one from the Post Office has been held accountable for the devastation that has been wreaked on so many lives. The law is meant to protect the good from wrongdoing, while punishing the bad. But in this case, bad people have been protected, while the good have been punished. This needs to change.
There will only be justice for those who took their own lives – and for those who, like me, contemplated it – when there are prosecutions. Like me, they can go to prison. But for a long time.