A Prison That Became a Music Studio: Inside New Bell’s Creative Revolution
Ninoda.com – Three prestigious awards, including best documentary feature, were brought home from New York’s Tribeca film festival last month. The honored film, titled after its setting, chronicles six years of life inside New Bell—a notorious detention center in Douala, Cameroon, that functions almost like an independent community. Directed by Dione Roach, an Italian creative, and Steve Happi, who co-founded the on-site music venture, the documentary captures something extraordinary happening behind bars.
More Than Just a Jail
Visitors to New Bell quickly realize they are entering a self-contained world. Inmates navigate crowded courtyards on foot, serving as human couriers between cells. Larger, stronger prisoners assist official guards in maintaining order throughout the facility. Meanwhile, a bustling marketplace features vendors offering fried cassava and beignet pastries to hungry convicts. Rather than suffering under strict regulations, the residents have transformed relaxed rules into opportunities.
Perhaps the most visible symbol of this transformation is Jail Time Records. Established in 2018, this modest recording space has elevated talented inmates into local celebrities. Empereur, recognized as a powerful gang leader both inside and beyond the prison walls, recently accumulated 24,000 YouTube views for his track “Sa Ngando,” with footage shot entirely within the facility. Listeners from Argentina, the United States, and South Africa have discovered these prison-made melodies.
Voices of Redemption
“It’s this instrument of resistance… where we can really share friendship, love and our voices can be heard,” Happi explained during an interview with the BBC’s Talking Movies programme. “We don’t think anymore about the four walls – we find the freedom.”
The recording environment itself is humble—a compact, humid booth connected to a room housing a single computer. Yet within these simple confines, profound artistic expression flourishes. One prisoner, known as Stone, delivers powerful lyrics into the microphone:
“Heart of stone, it’s war. My senses shatter like broken glass. I’m closed and tight like a cell door. No solid ground I slip like a fish.”
Stone, formerly a member of Cameroon’s presidential guard, received a ten-year sentence for robbery and unlawful firearm possession. He maintains his innocence. The documentary also follows his emotional attempts to contact his young daughter, Maira, via telephone.
“It’s been a long time. She needs to hear my voice from time to time, so she doesn’t forget about her father,” Stone recorded in a message to relatives after another unsuccessful call attempt.
From Freestyle to Festival Recognition
Roach’s journey began when she volunteered with a charitable organization hosting activities at New Bell. During one dance session, a group of rappers commandeered the microphone and began improvising. Captivated, she requested authorization from prison officials to establish a recording studio. Happi was recruited to manage operations as producer and sound engineer.
Happi’s own path to incarceration involved complicated circumstances. Following a disagreement about his deceased father’s remains, his aunt—who serves as a high court judge—presumably had him imprisoned for patricide. He was cleared of charges two years later, according to Jail Time Records.
The studio’s importance extends beyond artistic achievement. In 2022, the collective released “Jail Time Vol 1,” distributing half the earnings to the performers while reinvesting the remainder into the organization. Taika Waititi, the Academy Award-winning filmmaker from New Zealand, partnered with his wife, singer Rita Ora, as executive producers for the documentary.
“The music that comes out of there is amazing,” Waititi observed. “Just in terms of the power of art in relation to redemption and what that can mean to someone who, you know, some of these people are in prison for life. I think having an outlet is an incredibly powerful and humane thing.”
Recent concerts held in New Bell’s courtyard demonstrate the growing community around this unique project. Fellow inmates eagerly participate as both performers and production crew members, creating videos with surprisingly polished production values. For many prisoners, the studio represents not merely entertainment, but a pathway toward personal transformation and hope.
