Lisa is rebuilding her life after heroin addiction

AGED 25, with long dark hair and pearly-white teeth, Lisa Kevitt should have the world at her feet.

Instead, she is struggling to rebuild her life after a teenage introduction to heroin turned her into an addict with 25 criminal convictions.

“My life used to be all about what I’d do to get gear,” says Lisa, who is from Drogheda. “I was a robot, not living, just existing. But now I know in my heart I’ll never go to prison again.”

Lisa’s life was changed by Tús Nua, a programme run by the Depaul Trust in partnership with Dóchas Prison (the women’s section of Mountjoy) and the Probation Service. Since 2003 it has helped women leaving prison reintegrate into society.

Women make up 3.5% of the prison population. Many commit non-violent offences and most serve short sentences.

“These sentences can destroy lives,” says Kerry Anthony, CEO of Depaul Ireland. “They lose their homes and jobs. Their children go into care. We’d like an alternative to custodial sentences, a more supportive system that has a beneficial impact on these women and their families.”

A system like Tús Nua. In 2003, Depaul refurbished a house in Dublin into bedsits where six women can be housed and helped for up to a maximum of 12 (but usually six) months. Since then, they have helped 188, including Lisa. She has been at Tús Nua since being released in December. “I could have been released earlier but there wasn’t space at Tús Nua so I stayed in prison,” she says. “I’d been told to get in here if I wanted to change my life.”

Her determination was fuelled by the recent death of her sister Celine, a drug addict like Lisa. “I didn’t want to end up like her,” she says. “I also wanted to stop what happened to her from happening to anyone else.”

Lisa’s story is typical of many women in the prison system. She had a violent home life and mental health problems. “Once my sister and I set a building on fire and I jumped into the river afterwards to kill myself,” she remembers.

Both sisters were introduced to heroin by boyfriends and became addicted immediately. “I’ve always been paranoid and heroin made that go away,” says Lisa.

The sisters began committing crimes to get money for drugs. They’d pick pockets. They’d mug people. And they would play on their good looks to con men out of money.

“We’d get dressed up and go to a bar,” explains Lisa. “We’d go home with men, spike their drinks and steal their money.”

They used to buy Wild Cats from head shops. “It would get men in ‘a love buzz’ with you,” says Lisa. “They’d give you their bank card and pin number. We’d do this on a Friday so we’d take out the maximum before midnight and again just after midnight and again on Saturday and Sunday. It would be Monday morning before they could do anything about it.”

They didn’t always get away with it and soon the sisters were in and out of prison. They eventually signed up for the methadone clinic in Drogheda.

“But the waiting list was two years long and Celine died while waiting,” says a visibly upset Lisa. “She’d been on the list 20 months when she overdosed.”

Lisa found her own solution to the problem: prison. “I was given methadone in prison and so I felt safe there because I didn’t have to worry about getting gear,” she says. “Because it was the only place I could get clean, I did everything to get back in.”

This angers Kerry at Depaul Ireland: “Lisa shouldn’t have ended up in prison. If she’d had the support we’ve given her, she’d never have done what she has.”

Tús Nua has given Lisa safe housing. It is helping her make plans for the future — plans involving detox, moving to permanent accommodation, more interaction with her six-year-old son and training for employment.

“I always knew if I had good people in my life, people who’d point me in the right direction, I could do it,” says Lisa.

Lisa attends a methadone clinic and her next step is residential rehabilitation. She is taking classes in computers, photography and personal development and has printed CVs so she can look for part-time work.

Tús Nua has also helped her to re-establish a relationship with her family. She sees her son every weekend but her relationship with her mother is more fraught. “I did a lot of bad things to her because of drugs,” says Lisa.

Lisa has many regrets about her past. “I’ve never been abroad and now I’ll never go to America or Australia,” she says. “And if I wanted to work in Dunnes or Penneys, I wouldn’t get Gárda clearance.”

There’s the stigma too. “My handbag fell on the floor at a party,” says Lisa. “Someone picked it up and saw my methadone. He looked at me like dirt and that hurt.” Tús Nua is supporting Lisa through situations like this one but they would like to support more women in doing so.

“We help six women at a time but there’s a much greater need,” says Kerry Anthony. “Ideally, we’d like to help people before they go to prison at all.”

“I heard Michelle on the phone to a girl one day and that girl wanted to come back to Tús Nua,” Lisa says. “I realised that I needed them more than they needed me. I wouldn’t have got this far without them.”