Inside New Bell: The Cameroonian Prison Where Inmates Become Music Stars

Inside New Bell: The Cameroonian Prison Where Inmates Become Music Stars

Dakar, Senegal — Deep inside one of Central Africa's most notorious prisons, a remarkable creative revolution is unfolding. New Bell Prison in Douala, Cameroon, known for extreme overcrowding, violence, and a devastating cholera outbreak just a few years ago, has become home to one of the continent's most unexpected cultural exports — a fully functioning record label run by and for inmates, producing music that has captured international attention.

A Studio Behind Bars

Jail Time Records, founded in 2018 inside the crumbling walls of New Bell, has transformed the lives of hundreds of inmates by giving them something rare behind bars: a creative outlet and a voice. The studio itself is modest — a small, sweaty recording booth attached to a room with a single computer. But within those tight confines, prisoners have produced an album, multiple music videos, and a documentary that this year won three prizes at the prestigious Tribeca Film Festival in New York.

The label was born almost by accident. Italian artist Dione Roach was volunteering with a non-profit organisation running events inside New Bell when, during a dance class for prisoners, a group of rappers took over the microphone and began freestyling. Impressed by their raw talent, Roach approached the prison authorities for permission to start a recording studio. To her surprise, the officials were receptive.

Roach enlisted Steve Happi, a former inmate who had been wrongfully imprisoned in New Bell for two years, to run the studio as a producer and sound engineer.

The partnership between Roach and Happi is itself a story of unlikely collaboration. Happi, a Cameroonian musician and producer, was arrested following a family dispute over his late father's burial arrangements. According to Jail Time Records, his aunt — a high court judge — allegedly arranged for his imprisonment on false charges of killing his father. He spent two years behind bars before being acquitted. That experience gave him an intimate understanding of the psychological toll incarceration takes, and it shaped the ethos he brought to the recording studio. "Music saved my life," Happi has said of his own time inside. At Jail Time Records, that same philosophy guides the work: give an inmate a microphone, and you give them a reason to imagine a life beyond the cell.

Together, they built what would become Jail Time Records — a non-profit label that today functions as both a creative hub and a rehabilitation programme.

Empereur: From Gang Leader to Music Star

One of the most striking figures to emerge from the project is Empereur, a feared gang leader who has operated both inside and outside the prison. The son of a traditional Douala chief, Empereur is serving a 10-year sentence for multiple crimes. But within New Bell's walls, he has found a different kind of power through music.

His music video, filmed entirely inside the prison with dozens of fellow inmates serving as actors and crew, has amassed 24,000 views on YouTube — a significant achievement for content produced entirely behind bars. The documentary captures the complexity of his character, showing him both commanding respect from younger inmates and, in one scene, shaking down a bewildered young prisoner for a necklace and flip-flops.

When asked whether the project might glorify individuals who have committed violent crimes, Roach responded with a perspective rooted in African traditions of community and redemption. "The process we're doing is a rehabilitation process, basically," she told the BBC. "We enter the prison without any judgment and it's the only way we can really approach this kind of work. Music, as with any creative process, is also a way of self-discovery… coming to terms with things you've done and hopefully changing for the better."

The Documentary That Changed Everything

The story of Jail Time Records has now reached a global audience thanks to a feature-length documentary of the same name, directed by Happi and Roach and filmed over six years inside New Bell. The film offers an intimate, unflinching look at life inside the prison, following several inmates as they navigate incarceration, family separation, and the redemptive power of music.

One of the documentary's most moving storylines follows a prisoner named Stone, a former soldier in Cameroon's presidential guard serving a 10-year sentence for robbery and illegal possession of firearms — a charge he insists he did not commit. The film captures him trying again and again to reach his young daughter Maira by phone, often without success.

"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 says in a voice message to a family member, after failing to get through yet again. His song "Heart of Stone" features lyrics that speak directly to his experience: "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."

Last month at the Tribeca Film Festival, the Jail Time Records documentary won three awards, including Best Documentary Feature. The film attracted high-profile support from New Zealand Oscar-winning director Taika Waititi and his wife, the singer Rita Ora, who served as executive producers.

Music as a Lifeline in a Brutal Environment

New Bell Prison was built to hold around 1,100 inmates. By 2022, Human Rights Watch reported that the facility was housing 4,700 people — more than four times its capacity. The overcrowding has created unsanitary conditions that enabled a cholera outbreak four years ago, in which at least six inmates died. The prison also has a history of violence: in 2008, guards shot 16 inmates dead during an attempted breakout.

Against this backdrop, Jail Time Records has become what Happi describes as an "instrument of resistance." He told the BBC's Talking Movies programme: "We don't think anymore about the four walls — we find the freedom. It's this instrument of resistance where we can really share friendship, love and our voices can be heard."

The project has also expanded to include women. Jeje, the label's first female artist, made her debut in 2022 with the brooding Afrobeats song "Show Me The Way." She was jailed after stealing money and running away from an allegedly abusive uncle. Her lyrics speak to isolation and self-reliance: "Nobody show me the way, nobody show me the way, I did it all alone."

Expanding Across Africa

Jail Time Records has already begun replicating its model beyond Cameroon. In 2023, Roach and Happi set up a second studio in the central prison of Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso — roughly 1,600 kilometres from Douala. The Burkina Faso project follows the same blueprint: a recording studio run by inmates, producing music that is distributed through the label's network.

The label's debut album, "Jail Time Vol 1," was released in 2022. Under the project's profit-sharing model, half of all revenue goes directly to the artists, while the remainder is reinvested into the label's operations. This structure ensures that the creative work happening inside the prison walls has tangible benefits for the inmates themselves.

A Lantern for a Brighter Future

The documentary ends with an "in memoriam" sequence — a tribute to six prisoners who died while the Jail Time Records project has been running. The acknowledgement of loss underscores the harsh realities that persist within New Bell's walls. Yet for the living, the project has brought about real change.

"Before that, they had the stubborn mentality: it's them against the world," Happi said of the inmates he works with. "They feel now important — they feel like they have a place in the society."

For a continent where prison reform and rehabilitation are urgent challenges, the Jail Time Records model offers a compelling example of what is possible when creativity meets opportunity — even in the most unlikely of places. It demonstrates that music, as Taika Waititi put it, has "an incredibly powerful and humane thing" to offer: an outlet for expression, a path to self-discovery, and sometimes, a lantern lighting the way toward a better future.

As news of Jail Time Records spreads across the continent, questions arise about whether such a model could be replicated in other African prisons facing similar challenges of overcrowding and limited rehabilitation programmes. Across West and Central Africa, prison conditions remain a pressing human rights concern, with many facilities operating at several times their capacity. From Senegal's overcrowded prisons to Nigeria's congested detention centres, the need for innovative approaches to rehabilitation is urgent. What Jail Time Records has demonstrated is that creativity, when properly supported, can transform not just individual lives but the entire culture of a prison. The lessons from New Bell may yet echo far beyond Cameroon's borders, offering a blueprint for how the arts can serve as a tool for justice and human dignity across the continent.

By Amara Diop, Staff Writer