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A photo illustration shows a sudsy bar of soap with multiple price tags on it.
Photo Illustration by Sarah Rogers. Photos from Adobe Stock.

As inflation continues to affect households nationwide, incarcerated individuals also face rising prices at prison commissaries. This has been an issue at McPherson Unit in Newport, Arkansas, where I’m incarcerated.

Although prisons provide basic hygiene items, these are typically generic and low quality, prompting many to turn to commissaries, or prison general stores, for better-quality items and additional needs at significantly marked-up rates.

Price increases place additional pressure on families already grappling with economic hardship.

“I was receiving $100 per month for about a year and a half because my grandmother did not want me to go without,” said Hailey S., a woman at my prison. “Since my grandmother passed away, I do not receive any money at all because my family cannot afford to spare any due to the price of utilities and their own groceries. I am now struggling to buy just my basics.”

The money most of us receive from outside sources often barely covers basic necessities. For those with no outside financial support, Arkansas offers $12 per month, which stretches even less. Residents inside do not receive any pay for state-mandated jobs, so we can’t earn money through work.

Meanwhile, prices continue to rise. If you are a coffee drinker, a 4-ounce bag of Keefe instant coffee now costs $4.15, up from $3.05 just last year. Breck shampoo packets went from $1.15 to $1.87. Deodorant jumped from $2.20 to $3.15. Even a simple bar of soap costs 90 cents. Toothpaste, envelopes and other essentials have all seen steady price increases as well.

On top of these rising prices, the county where the prison is located imposes an 8.75% sales tax on the items we purchase. 

These might sound like small amounts on the outside; but here, every cent counts. Often, we are left juggling our most basic needs — deciding which one we’ll let go. 

My mother, who lives on disability benefits, has told me she wishes she could send me money but she can’t afford to. The cost of her own prescriptions, utility bills and household essentials for herself and my teenage kids are too high. Most months she can’t even afford a stamp to mail me a letter.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

Amanda Ewing writes from Arkansas.