After two years behind bars, one woman shares her story of life in prison. She reflects on her road to reclamation, and hopes her experience empowers other women to find the same resilience she did.
The distribution of drugs was, in Toni’s mind, the solution to all of her financial problems.
As a single mother of three, working three different jobs, the struggle to provide for her children was difficult. Toni Garrigos, 35, from Liverpool, was trying her best to make ends meet when her life changed based on one bad decision.
“I was struggling to survive. I was the only person who had the time for the kids, so I was trying and I wasn’t doing well.
“It was 2020, and I was presented with the opportunity to get involved with the distribution of drugs. I found that it solved my problems overnight,” she says.
“After one night, I found myself asking, could I do more? And basically, I let go of the other three jobs and that became my life. I was relieved, I didn’t feel worried about whether I’d have enough to pay the bills.”
After her previous relationship ended, Toni was left on her own to support three young children, resulting in a significant increase in financial pressures, and ultimately led her to feeling as though making these decisions were her only choice.
Three years later, Toni was arrested on 7 March 2023 at 6.30pm at her home address. She spent 48 hours in a police cell that week, and later received an eight year sentence, which was then reduced to six years due to an early guilty plea.
Sentencing guidelines meant she would have only served three years of this in custody, and the other 3 years would have been under probation or in the community on license.
However, she only served two years out of the three, due to changes in these guidelines that had been put into place due to prison overcrowding.
The moment she was sentenced to HMP Styal, a women’s prison in Cheshire, on 18 May 2023, any concern for herself was an after thought, the only thing she cared about was her children. “It was horrendous. I was thinking, no one can do what I do in that house, because it’s crazy looking after three kids on your own, it’s unbelievable,” she says.
Toni’s dad, Kevin, moved into her house during her time in prison. This meant her children, who were 4, 11 and 14 at the time, could stay together in their own home, something a lot of families aren’t lucky enough to have.
During her first few weeks in prison, she found herself befriending other inmates, and was actually ‘fascinated’ hearing people’s stories.
“I wasn’t ever scared of other people. My biggest concern was the kids and that overrides everything,” she says. “I was walking around the wing asking if anyone wanted to play a game of cards. I always made sure people were okay.”
Despite settling in well, she was nervous for her first family visit, but through the support of her other inmates, that anxiety soon turned to excitement.
“You’ve got 20 women giving you a hug on the way out the door, and they all told me, we’ll be here for you when you get back.” As she recounted this moment, a lump formed in her throat remembering the women currently experiencing that same feeling.
So after 10 days in prison, her mum, dad and three kids were finally allowed to visit. “My mum and dad have been divorced forever, so let me tell you that was funny seeing them walk through the door together,” she says.
“I began crying when I saw the kids, but I tried to keep it as normal as possible. I told my youngest this is where I work, he didn’t think it was a prison, there was a play area for them which was good.
“My eldest sobbed, and used to sob more or less every visit, which was traumatic.”
Toni emphasised the level of community there was during difficult times like this one. Especially when she was moved to one of the old Victorian houses where prisoners in Styal went after they showed good behaviour in the cells.
“There were 20 women spread between 10 rooms, and I remember once we were in the dining room all sat together, something came on the radio, it was the song ‘don’t go breaking my heart’, and every single one of us got up and started dancing. There were people there who had gone through the maddest things,” she says.
“Everyone’s on the same level because no one’s got nothing, and I remember speaking to my mum and saying I’ve got to do something with this. I’ve met women that have been through things you couldn’t even imagine, and now they’re in and out here for the rest of their life. I just thought, this can’t be right.”
Toni was later released on 3 Feb 2025 on home detention curfew (tag) for six months, a scheme that allows prisoners to serve the final part of their sentence at home.
Approaching her release date, she planned to surprise her kids by telling them she was coming home a day later than she actually was.
Although it was hard leaving friends she’d made for life, her kids were always her number one priority. Two friends met her outside the gates and greeted her with a wave of hugs, and then she was finally on her journey home.
“It’s so funny because my dad was already at the pub and my house was a tip, you know, typical man, but I was home and it was amazing,” she says.
“As they all came through the door, the little fella dropped his bag to the floor screaming and we were all hugging. We had a big chinese banquet and all slept in the same bed that night. It was just the best thing in the world.”
Although she was reunited with her children, Toni spoke honestly about the strange new reality she was facing after spending two years locked up.
She says, “I remember feeling physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. After about 48 hours I was sort of spaced out. But, I wouldn’t change it for the world, we got through it, me and the kids. We got through it.
“My kids are proud and want to go everywhere with me. I feel like I’m part of this generation now because I’m home every evening with them and I’m not looking over my shoulder anymore.”
Toni now has a stable job and does freelance work for National Prison Radio, a radio station that broadcasts to prisons across England and Wales.

According to statistics published on Gov.uk, women make up 4% of the prison population.
Toni acknowledges this and says, “So they haven’t got enough space to build prisons big enough to house wings, which is why we lose out on being close to our families because your nearest prison might not be this close,
“Styal was a 40 minute drive, which isn’t too bad, but if you’re a man from Liverpool, you’re a 20 minute drive from HMP Liverpool. You know, it’s a one size fits all system.”
Despite this, Toni’s experience shows what the prison system can be used for, a chance for reclamation and to change for the better.
Whilst she isn’t sure what the future holds, she hopes to inspire other women through her story. “I want to make an impact, for the bigger picture, women in prison, domestic violence survivors, and women who feel like they’re not good enough.”
For anyone who has recently left prison, she says, “Be proud you got through that, because it’s an experience not many people will ever understand. It’s hard, you’re missing your loved ones, so you shouldn’t be ashamed. But that’s the past now, you served your time for it, your only way now is up.”







