How Photos Connect Prisoners with their Families: A Lifeline of Hope and Resilience

Janan Abdu – Occupied Palestine

Photographs hold a profound significance for prisoners and their families, serving as a bridge between separated lives. While prison authorities restrict physical meetings, hugs, and kisses, photos and the stories they carry offer a vital connection. For those whom the prison service prevents from visiting, these images become a lifeline, allowing prisoners to follow family events such as weddings, graduations, and celebrations.

The Role of Photos in Prison Visits: Navigating Strict Regulations and the Importance of Personal Imagery

In the context of prison photography, the prison service permits the exchange of family photos, which serve as a crucial meeting space between inmates and their loved ones. Families are allowed to bring up to five photos during visits. These images are handed to the warden for inspection before they are given to the prisoner. However, strict prison photo regulations govern what types of photos are allowed.

Photos must feature family members only. If images depict former prisoners or political figures, such as those displaying the Palestinian or Syrian flag (for prisoners from the Golan Heights), they are prohibited. Even scenic images, such as mountains, seas, or markets, are not allowed under these regulations.

For prisoners, these photographs are much more than simple images—they are a means of maintaining a connection with the outside world. A prisoner who has been incarcerated for years might not recognize nephews, nieces, or other relatives who have grown up in their absence. Photos become essential in maintaining these family connections through photography.

A Prisoner with his Mother During a Visit

Regulations for Prisoner Photos: The Role of Prisoner Photos in Family Bonds and Historical Practices

Under prison photo regulations (Clause 8, February 3, 2000, updated on November 15, 2020), a prisoner may request to have a photo taken with a family member, especially in cases of serious illness. If approved by security, the prisoner is allowed to wear civilian clothing and stand before a plain white wall for the photo. The jailer takes the photo, and only one copy is provided for a fee. This image remains within the prison.

In the past, prisoners with parents over 65 years of age were allowed to take annual photos with them. These photos were taken either by the jailers or by an external photographer approved by the prison administration.

Once a year, prisoners are allowed to take personal photos inside the prison. These photos, taken by the jailers, are then sent to their families. For these occasions, prisoners take great care to present themselves in the best light. Although the smell of perfume or the touch of loved ones cannot pass through the photograph, these images still reflect a prisoner’s morale, knowing their family will see them.

Prisoner with his Father


Snapshots of Connection: The Emotional Significance and Creative Solutions in Prisoner Photography

For families, especially those who have not seen their loved ones for years, these photographs carry immense emotional value. They offer a glimpse into how the prisoner has changed over time, providing comfort to those who might not even remember what their relative looks like. These family connections through photography offer a visual link, a way for families to hold onto a piece of their loved ones.

I recall taking photos of Haifa, a city we hold dear, capturing its natural beauty, mountains, sea, and the Wadi Al-Nasnas neighborhood. When I brought these pictures to the prison, the jailer informed me that photos of nature were not allowed—only images of people were accepted. In response, I decided to experiment. Before my next visit, I edited my passport photo with an image of Haifa’s sea and mountains using basic software. To my surprise, the photoshopped images were accepted by the jailers, marking a small victory in preserving a piece of the outside world.

Photos hold irreplaceable value for prisoners. For some, these images become the only connection to their families. Take, for example, Um Karim Younis, who for 40 years clung to a photo of her son. She kissed and hugged the image daily, as it was her only link to him. Tragically, she passed away just months before her son's release, never getting the chance to embrace him in person.

A Mother Kissing a Photo of her absent Son


Preserving Presence: The Role of Photographs in Palestinian Homes and Family Connections

For families like Um Naser Abu Humied, a mother of both prisoners and martyrs, photos are an integral part of the household. Her sons' images, scattered across different prisons, are displayed prominently in her home, a testament to both their absence and presence. Many Palestinian families place photos of their imprisoned loved ones into pictures of family events, visually ensuring that, despite their physical absence, they are still a part of the occasion.

Photos in Palestinian homes act as symbols of both absence and presence. They serve to maintain a visual link to loved ones who are not physically present. These images are displayed prominently, integrating them into the daily lives of family members.

Many Palestinian families place photos of their imprisoned loved ones into pictures of family events. This practice visually ensures that, despite their physical absence, they are still a part of the occasion. These images help to reinforce the ongoing connection and presence of loved ones who are missing.

Photo of Um Naser with her Sons


Light within the Darkness: The Power of Prisoner Photography as a Symbol of Resilience and Resistance

As Palestinian photographer Mohamed Badarne explains, prisoner photos are more than personal mementos—they are collective symbols of resilience. These images capture human moments that imprisonment cannot erase, providing a visual testament to the prisoners' strength and defiance.

Prison photography differs significantly from traditional "criminal photography" associated with dehumanization. Rather than portraying prisoners as mere numbers or criminals, these images give prisoners a voice, allowing them to present themselves as they wish. The moment they stand before the camera, they defy the constraints imposed by their captors, turning the act of being photographed into a subtle rebellion.

In the Palestinian context, prison photography plays a critical role in documenting not just the lives of individuals but the collective Palestinian experience. From the Nakba of 1948 to the present, photographs have been a crucial tool in the ongoing struggle against occupation. Prisoners may be behind bars, but through the lens of a camera, they remain present in the lives of their loved ones, defying the isolation imposed upon them.

In a world where physical touch and direct interactions are limited, photographs emerge as powerful symbols of resilience and hope. They transcend the barriers of incarceration, allowing prisoners and their families to maintain a profound connection. As you reflect on the role of these images, consider how the act of capturing and sharing moments transforms not just personal experiences but collective narratives. In the end, photos are not merely visual records but reminders of the enduring human spirit that persists despite the constraints imposed upon us.

Photo of a Prisoner

*All photos in this article were provided by the author.

About the Author

Janan Abdu – Occupied Palestine

A lawyer and feminist human rights activist, particularly focused on human rights and prisoners' rights. She studied law, obtaining both a Bachelor's and Master's degree during the years of her husband's imprisonment. Her work and specialization revolve around violations and torture during detention, interrogation, and imprisonment. She contributed to the founding and management of several civil organizations and has made research contributions. She is the author of the book "Palestinian Women's and Feminist Organizations in the 1948 Areas."