Orange is the new black depicts fictional life in a female prison
An inmate in Mountjoy women's prison
Warder checks for drugs inside Mountjoy women's prison
Warder checks on inmates inside Mountjoy women's prison
LIFE on the inside is better for many of Ireland's women prisoners that it is on the outside.
A lucky few even get to enjoy the luxurious surroundings of The Willows, a unit within The Dóchas Centre women's jail.
The comfy suites, TV and homely comforts are a far cry from the bare cells on the female wing in Limerick Prison where inmates can spend most of the day locked up.
A documentary Women on the Inside due to air Monday night on RTE gives a glimpse behind the bars.
One prisoner who knows the difference between the harsh realities of Limerick prison and the luxury of The Willows is convicted killer Una Geaney.
In candid interviews she admits that the work it took to get into the comfortable unit was worth it for the bed alone.
"If you mess up here you're straight back down to the small yard, you're back to square one," she said
"You wouldn't want to mess up here, it's lovely, proper bed. After two years I couldn't believe it, that was the main reason I wanted to come up here," she added.
She explained she had little news for family members when talking to them while serving time in Limerick, "smoking fags, drinking coffee and getting fat."
"Up here I have things to tell them that I'm doing. Being up in this prison makes me feel like I will get out. When you're down in Limerick you just give up, you are not going any where, ever," she said.
The Cork native and mother-of-four is serving time for the manslaughter of Gary Bull (37), an English man who was living in a west Cork hippy commune.
He was battered to death and dumped in a septic tank on her land.
The most infamous female prisoners, including Catherine Nevin and the Scissor Sisters, Charlotte and Linda Mulhall, don't feature in the documentary.
There are over 130 women in the jail designed for 105. Many are homeless addicts in a relentless cycle of re-offending, serving short sentences.
"I want my fucking methadone. I'm sick," shouted one prisoner, running through the prison yard.
The shocking reality is that for many women life in prison is better than their lives on the streets or in homeless hostels.
One 25-year-old admits on rainy day she's is better off behind bars
"I've often asked the judge to lock me up. If you have nothing out there you can have things in here - shower, the telly, your mates," said Christina.
Homeless since her teens and using drugs since she was 13-years-old, she is serving time for robbery.
At one point in the programme the troubled woman shows the deep self-inflicted cuts to her arms that needed 45 stitches.
"It relieves pain from in here. It puts it on the outside of my body," she explained.
Veteran jail bird Jenny (37) who is serving two years admits she has hundreds of convictions for petty offence. Homeless, with no family she is an alcoholic.
"Jail can be a comical place sometimes and then it can be a very sad and lonely place all in the one day. It sounds mad, a prison full of people and you still feel sad and lonely," she admitted.
The cameras followed her on her release from jail and within minutes she buys a bottle of whiskey which she drinks mixed with coffee.
"That was long waited for," she laughs.
"I'll be honest with you when I'm on temporary release now I shouldn't be drinking. But when you are locked up there for two, two and half years you are bound to do something. I don't drink pints, I like my Jameson whiskey, coffee, three sugars. I'm a posh alcoholic," she added.
In another prison unit, Phoenix House, prisoners with babies under one are allowed to nurse their infant children.
One woman is featured shortly after giving birth in The Rotunda being driven back to the mother and baby unit.
A mother of four other older children, she is wracked with guilt at the idea of bringing a new-born into a prison.
"He won't remember he's too small, but I'll remember," she admits.
"I feel so bad, I feel so sorry for him. I feel like the worst person in the world," she says.
The Midas Productions team spent almost a year building up the trust between themselves, the prisoners and jail staff.
"Initially you can feel as if you're in college residences but soon you notice the nets over the yards, the barbed wire and the reinforced doors, slowly but surely the prison air invades you and you know this is not a 'usual' place," said director Traolach Ó Buachalla.
