Under the Project Hope initiative, parents behind bars are able to keep up-to-date about their school-going children's lives through quarterly video calls.
SINGAPORE: Clutching a tablet in a nondescript room, 46-year-old Fai (not his real name) waited eagerly for his daughter to appear on the Zoom call.
It had been about three months since he last saw his 15-year-old daughter. When the connection finally came through, his eyes lit up and he smiled.
But a slight technical glitch delayed their reunion. Seeing this, an officer at Changi Prison Complex stepped in, took the tablet away to resolve the issue, and handed it back to the inmate.
The conversation finally began: his daughter speaking from her school, and him from behind prison walls.
For the next hour, the screen became a bridge between their two worlds – made possible by an initiative piloted by the Singapore Prison Service (SPS) and schools to keep incarcerated parents anchored in their children’s education through quarterly video calls.
Since its launch in 2022, the pilot, Project Hope, has helped 134 inmates stay involved in their school-going children's lives.
A total of 186 children and 79 schools are involved, while SPS is in talks with another 88 schools about the initiative, said correctional rehabilitation specialist Yi Shuqin from SPS' family and peer intervention branch.
The programme comes amid efforts to strengthen family bonds during incarceration.
In a parliamentary reply in July, the Ministry of Social and Family Development (MSF) highlighted the importance of family support in helping ex-offenders reintegrate into society and remain offence-free.
Studies have shown that parental incarceration can affect children negatively.
An MSF study conducted with the National Council of Social Service on the longer-term effects of incarceration on children found that those whose parents were involved in the criminal justice system were more likely to commit crime compared to those without such exposure.
About one in five incarcerated parents had at least one child who committed crime, according to another 2017 study by SPS.
For Fai, these issues weigh on his mind as he does his time at Changi Prison.
Speaking to reporters on Thursday (Oct 22) after his hour-long call, Fai expressed concern about the risks faced by children of incarcerated parents and his desire to remain present in his two children's lives despite being behind bars.
He worries particularly about their teenage years, when the absence of a parent could leave them feeling that they have no one to turn to.
"If parents are not around … they are alone at home, wandering around, looking for friends," he said.
With his wife working, Fai hopes the video calls will allow him to continue guiding and supporting his children even while he is physically apart from them.
"Although I'm not around, I can still give her moral support", so that she does not feel lost in her teenage years, he said.
PREPARING FOR A LIFE BEHIND BARS
Fai began serving his sentence in June last year after being convicted of fraud and sentenced to 10 years and four weeks' jail.
He had spent about five years preparing his two children, now aged 17 and 15, for his absence, starting during the COVID-19 pandemic.
"I tell them daddy is going away for a while. A while means I never tell how long. So I prep them. I tell them what to do," he said.
Although his children accepted that he would be leaving, they were curious about why.
Fai decided to be upfront about his imprisonment rather than tell them a "white lie", knowing his sentence was too long to conceal the truth.
"They are 14, 16 that time. I think they should know where I'm going," he said.
"Basically, I have no secret with them. I just tell them, my sentence is 10 years, four weeks. Better to let them know. If not they will be asking, 'Daddy, when are you going out?' They don't know when, it will be a question mark to them."
Two months before entering prison, he began leaving notes for his children with instructions on doing laundry, choosing detergents and helping their mother with household chores such as vacuuming and cleaning the toilet.
These were tasks he had typically handled, along with cooking for the family.
"I'm very close to my family. I always cook for them, wash clothes for them. Everything also I do because I pamper them," he said.
THE FIRST VIDEO CALL
By their third video call on Thursday, conversation flowed easily between Fai and his daughter, moving from schoolwork and exam results to the haze and cooking.
But their first call in May, about three months after he joined Project Hope, had been markedly different.
His daughter was initially shy and reserved, opening up only after he gradually encouraged her to talk. The months without her father had been difficult, Fai said.
"We were … very close. So when I'm not around, she's a bit sad. There's no father figure to her."
His wife had written to him about their daughter spending too much time on her phone instead of revising her schoolwork.
Fai believed she was troubled by his absence.
But after they began connecting through Project Hope, he noticed a marked change. She took his advice and started studying more diligently.
During Thursday's call, she shared her recent exam results and told him how she had worked hard and sought help from her older brother in certain subjects.
Their conversation then turned to the haze. She told him conditions had improved and asked whether he could "see the sky now".
They also talked about cooking, something Fai had often done for the family before his imprisonment, preparing dishes ranging from black pepper rice to curry chicken.
He brought up the macaroni goreng his daughter had written to him about making, though she felt something was missing from the dish.
His children had tried cooking at home since he left, Fai later told reporters, but the food never quite tasted the same.
"I think the father's touch is not there. They miss my cooking."
While it is still years until his release, when that day comes, Fai wants to apologise to his children and tell them how much he has missed them.
"I will talk to them (say) I'm sorry, I miss you all … I will not leave them again, will not (make) any mistake anymore.
"Once is enough for my kids to suffer. Enough," he said.
He knows he will have missed significant milestones, including his children's N-Level examinations, but hopes to be present for those still to come.
"I miss … their teenager milestones. I don't want to miss the next milestone."
MORE THAN JUST A CHAT
An SPS study that examined family interventions in correctional settings found that such interventions could improve parent-child communication and parenting skills, while reducing parental stress and behavioural problems among children.
While more research is needed to establish a causal link, the study suggested that such improvements could help reduce reoffending by strengthening parenting and family interactions.
Behind each Project Hope video call is considerable preparation, said SPS' Ms Yi.
Specialists typically coordinate with school counsellors or student welfare officers to arrange sessions, while also helping incarcerated parents plan what to discuss with their children.
Bringing a school on board may at times take months, as SPS must first explain the initiative and secure support from the relevant parties and school management.
There are also more delicate challenges.
Some caregivers may resist the calls, while certain children may not be ready to reconnect with their incarcerated parents. "It has to be preceded with a lot of sensitivity, a lot of deliberation, a lot of care because we also cannot push them," Ms Yi said.
Officers also work with parents to help them express care and concern for their children. "Not every parent comes in confident and ready to engage their children … Maybe the relationship could have been strained to begin with," she said.
In-house counsellors can help inmates navigate difficult conversations, including explaining to their children why they are in prison.
For the children, calls are conducted in school to provide a safe environment. An adult must also be present to support them during and after the conversation.
With Project Hope, inmate parents can continue playing an active role in their children's lives by staying updated on what was happening at school, said Ms Yi.
"It really reminds them that when they are out, there is someone who's waiting for them, and that they are actually a role model to their children. So their children are actually an important source of motivation for them."
She has heard feedback from parents that the calls encourage them to be more mindful about their behaviour in prison and avoid committing offences that could delay their release and reunion with their families.
"We have really seen how it strengthens their parental identity and this identity in turn really strengthens their commitment for change," Ms Yi said.
While quarterly calls "may feel insufficient", they are meant to complement existing channels - such as 20- to 30-minute physical or virtual visits, she added.
In a July parliamentary reply, MSF said 68 per cent of inmates received either virtual or face-to-face visits from family members in 2025. Inmates can also communicate through e-letters, phone calls and family programmes.
Ms Yi noted that some children particularly value having an hour alone with their incarcerated parent, rather than sharing shorter visits with other family members - an experience Fai shared.
During regular visits, he would have only about 10 minutes each with his wife, son and daughter. "I cannot share more. It's very hard. So once I got (in) this programme, I can share more," he said.
The longer calls have given him time to offer his daughter guidance, including tips on tackling maths questions.
Throughout Thursday's video call, Fai repeatedly encouraged his daughter to keep working hard, reassuring her that her studies will improve.
Though separated by prison walls, the call allowed him to tell her: "Don't worry, I'm here."