Editor’s note: Stephen Wells has given us permission to publish this account of his three months and 21 days in remand after his politically motivated arrest on Australia Day in Adelaide. You can read our exclusive report about his charges being dropped here.
My first article after being released from wrongful imprisonment since being arrested on premeditated and false charges, is to correct the record on reports about me being starved in prison.
Only the police on the first two and a half days in custody offered me zero food. The remand centre and Yatala labour prison presented “food” to me every day…. it just was never enough food that fit my carnivore diet. Instead there was white bread and margarine in the morning, or at Yatala weetbix/cornflakes with reduced fat milk, then two other meals a day on offer which was very carbohydrate heavy. Meat was generally heavily processed and came in small portions. At Yatala there were occasional dinners that had small portions of roast beef, chicken thigh, chicken drumsticks or quiche, but these were rare occasions. At the remand centre chicken breast or a processed beef patty was the best one could hope for and no more often than once a fortnight.
The decision to stick to my diet whilst in custody was initially a reaction to the police offering me no food on my first day, but was justified long term by a philosophy I have been preaching since the first lockdowns for the fake pandemic back in April of 2020. I believe it is important to hold the line with fervent radicalism on the very smallest of impositions by the enemy. Don’t give them an inch. Don’t wear the mask, don’t social distance, don’t comply with orders to stay within a certain distance from your home. Hold the line on the small things, regardless of the negative consequences, then you have a better chance of victory when the more serious tyranny is enacted. Had more people not worn the masks, fewer people would have complied with the vaccine mandate and the extra 30,000 people who were murdered by the State in 2022 because of them, might still be alive today.
Australia Day political prisoner Stephen Wells, 56, speaks out about his experience in jail, and how the authorities failed to break him.
He was released yesterday, four months after being arrested for “loitering” while marching through Adelaide. pic.twitter.com/thS75XWHhX
— The Noticer (@NoticerNews) May 17, 2025
So it was vital that I practiced what I had been preaching for the last 5 years. The decision not to accept the bail conditions, not to eat food that I know to be unhealthy and not wearing prison clothes in the first week (using the only agency available to me (control over my own body) to force the remand centre to respect my presumption of innocence), were all part of my determination to put my money where my mouth was and prove that this strategy works.
The police didn’t give me food on the first day basically to punish me for being belligerent and non cooperative whilst being booked into the police lock up. I had been very calm and easy going at the time I was arrested and had only become belligerent due having medical attention deliberately withheld from me whilst waiting inside the police van inside the police station garage. I had heat stroke and with my hands handcuffed behind my back in a confined space, I began to get cramp.
I was checked in on 3 times whilst waiting to be taken in for possessing. The first time I asked for the handcuffs to be removed or to be re handcuffed with my hands infront of me as I was starting to cramp. I was told he didn’t have keys (a lie) and there would be someone there shortly. The second time I was checked on because I was screaming in agony as the cramps overtook my hamstrings, stomach and shoulders. “Get the fucking cuffs off, get them off, aaaaarrrg!” was met with more patronising “just hold tight, there will be someone along soon”. To which, in-between agonising screams I responded with “do you enjoy this? Is this how you get off? Are you going to go home tonight and wank over what you’ve done? Get the cuffs off me you sadistic bastard, fuck, arrrrg, shit, arrrrg” teeth clench, wince, grimace. In the pause he simply looked at me, said nothing for a while, before finally saying “yeah, you’ll keep” and shutting the door again.
When they opened the door the third time I was on the floor, wedged between the door and the seat with my head on the seat. My eyes were closed and I was unsuccessfully praying to pass out. Two officers had to help me out of the van, setting off the cramps again and causing more screaming from me.
Needless to say, I wasn’t in a mood to be cooperative once I was taken inside for processing. So when sausage rolls and pasties were being offered to all of my friends that evening, they simply ignored me in my cell completely.
The next day was the same, until late afternoon, when the sergeant came into my cell with two of his goons and tried to gaslight me, by saying the reason they hadn’t given me food as yet was because it was illegal for them to offer me food without me having completed their induction questionnaire about medical conditions and allergies etc. I had responded to them trying to fill out this paperwork the day before by saying “I don’t answer questions”! Obviously they could have informed me of the claimed legal restrictions against giving me food at the time, or when they were offering food to everyone else, so the excuse was bullshit. They were simply being arseholes because they could and now they were doing their best to cover their arses from any consequences of having shat on me.
By this time I knew that we would all be in front of the magistrate the next day. I had been planning to have a three day fast before Easter. Now after 36 hours without food already, I thought I may as well bring that fast forward and not eat the crap that was on offer. So in response to the sergeant’s bullshit I simply said, “that’s OK, I’m on a very strict diet anyway so I wouldn’t have been able to eat what you had on offer”.
“Oh”, said the sergeant, “well we are required to accommodate dietary needs, what is your diet?”
“Sirloin steak, medium rare! Make sure you don’t overcook it as that goes against my religion”.
The sergeant clenched his teeth and I think I saw steam coming out of his ears, but he held his anger in and simply stormed out of the cell. I wasn’t offered food again.
Once in the remand centre, I also didn’t get to fill in any of the induction questions due to refusing to put on the prison clothes (I will save that story for another time). So when I woke up in a dry cell in the punishment unit on Wednesday morning my 3 day fast was complete, but no one knew about my carnivore diet. I politely declined the white bread toast with margarine and told them I was on the carnivore diet. The screws didn’t care and said I would have to sort that out with others later.
That day, I was visited by the nurse, the social worker, the duty manager and the prison warden with his deputy. I told them all about only eating non processed meat, fish and eggs. That I was non dairy other than butter. Before coming into prison I had been super strict on carnivore and had only been consuming beef and eggs from my own chickens plus butter and tallow. So I was already compromising by giving the remand centre the ability to give me other meats and fish.
So as to both give the remand centre time to organise my diet and to appear relaxed in front of the screws, I decided to extend my fast to 5 days. I was feeling pretty good health wise and no more hungry than after day 1. The screws kept asking me if I was on hunger strike whenever I refused the slop, but I took the time to say no, I’m on a carnivore diet and I’m waiting for this to be arranged. I then asked them to see how that was progressing and responded to the standard “well I’m busy right now” with a placating “it’s not urgent, I’m happy to fast up to 5 days, but once you’ve finished these duties, I would appreciate it if you could follow up for me”.
Thus I made sure to tell every person working at the remand centre who interacted with me about my dietary requirements.
Day 5 came and went and nothing changed. Now I made it clear that I was not prepared to fast any longer and expected them to bring me something that fit my diet. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy” I told them, “a can of tuna in water (cheap vegetable oils are toxic), the cheapest mince beef, lamb or pork. Chicken, eggs, even just a 100grams of real butter on its own. Anything will do. But I only eat non processed animals and I’m not eating dairy”.
Day 6 came and went. On Sunday morning after 7 days without food, hunger finally hit. No longer the benevolent slight discomfort of a healthy fast. I woke up finally with the sensation to match the misused complaint of “I’m starving”. I demanded to speak with the manager. It was a woman on duty that day and she was a bitch. I said that under occupational health and safety legislation, duty of care, demanded that their rules were subordinate to my health. That within 100 meters of the remand centre there would be a shop that sold cans of tuna and real butter and that if they had nothing in the kitchen that fit my diet, that she should organise someone to buy something for me, which I would be happy to pay for out of the funds in my prison account. That if I wasn’t provided with food that day that I would seek to press charges once I was released and would hold her personally responsible as she was the manager on duty.
Screws don’t like threats. They get impotently threatened all the time. They know it’s all bluff and bluster. They have a standard response, which is to simply hit back harder with real threats or real consequences. So she proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that the “prison” (not remand centre, no one other than myself knew or cared that there is supposed to be a clear distinction) had the food it had and that they were fulfilling their obligations by offering it to me. My refusal to eat any of that food is nothing more than a hunger strike and if I continued to refuse to eat, then they had protocols to deal with that and measures would eventually be taken to ensure I didn’t “self harm”. In short, she threatened me with force feeding. She then walked away.
The rest of that day I was pretty low. If it came to force feeding, there would be little I could do to resist. In my mind, I have always taken forced injections or forced anything being put in my body against my will as the line in the sand, when it comes to peaceful resistance. Cross it and I have held that I have the right and the duty to kill the person or persons responsible. This then would undoubtedly mean my own death, as once that step is taken there really is no going back and a state of war is now established. A war none of us can hope to win. How long could I continue on principle? What could I do to avoid finding myself in such a predicament where violence is the only honourable option left? I don’t want war. I don’t want violence. All my activism has been about trying to prevent the conditions that make violence inevitable. Was I doomed to be the one who would trigger it? What kind of terrible irony would that be? But would I even be strong enough to hold out long enough to even get to the point where they would force feed me? I had gone 7 days without food. I know many people have done 30 day fasts and have done it in prison. In the 80s some IRA guys went on hunger strike and it took nearly 60 days before they died. How long would the remand centre wait me out? How long could I hold out for? My next court date was still 6 weeks away.
All these dark thoughts circled through my head all day. I didn’t have answers. I simply decided to hold out as long as I could. Get through that day first. Stop worrying about tomorrow until it was tomorrow. There was nothing else I could do.
That afternoon I was transferred out of the punishment block to a punishment cell in the medical centre. I was basically on 24/7 observation now.
Around 4pm the duty manager changed and a younger guy came to speak to me. He was concerned with his duty of care responsibilities. After explaing to him like I had explained to everyone that I wasn’t on hunger strike but was simply determined not to compromise on my diet, he asked me if I ate eggs? “Yes, of course”, I replied.
“So if I go to the kitchen now and manage to get a couple of boiled eggs for you, would you eat them?” he asked.
“Mate, not only would I eat them, you would probably have to bring a couple of guards in with you to stop me kissing you out of gratitude”.
He smiled and left for the kitchen. 20 minutes later he returned with 2 hard boiled eggs. The remand centre had access to eggs all along! Bastards! At that moment I didn’t care. This was my first interaction with this manager and I thanked him profusely. As I bit into the first egg tears began streaming down my face and my shoulders shook as I tried to hold back the sobbing.
A few hours later he came back again with 3 more eggs. Then I was taken to the nurse for a quick medical check. Pulse and blood pressure optimal. Blood sugar optimal. Weight 87kg. 10 days earlier I had weighed myself at home. I was 93kg then. I had dropped 6kg in a week and a half.
For the next 4 weeks I was given 6 boiled eggs twice a day. There are only 70 calories in an egg, so I was only getting 840 calories of energy a day. I reasoned that 20 years ago I weighed 80kgs so I still had fat reserves I could use up before becoming unhealthy. During this time I could see if there were further concessions I could obtain. If not, then I was still hoping the bail conditions would eventually be dropped and if I came out much thinner and the media was there at my release, then without my shirt that the police had stolen under the excuse of needing it for evidence, then the image would be useful.
But now that I was no longer being coerced to make compromises on my diet I was free to make my own compromises without giving the enemy any ground.
I figured my fat reserves were gone after 5 weeks in custody. Now my health would no longer be served by being a strict carnivore. Calories now mattered just as much. I’m prepared to be martyred for the cause, but it’s stupid to actively seek it out. God commands us to value the gift of life. We sacrifice it only for higher causes.
My main challenge was animal fat. Humans need animal fat. Our brains are almost entirely made from it. Every cell in our bodies requires cholesterol to survive. Trans fat from industrial seed oils is toxic. It’s no better than consuming engine oil. Eggs have all the nutrients required for health, but not in the correct ratios. Eggs with butter I could have continued to thrive on. But without I was going to get sick eventually. But getting butter in remand centre or prison is harder than getting heroine. In fact twice a day nurses come around and offer all inmates drugs and drug addicts have access to all kinds of legalised hard prescription drugs.
The best I could do was supplement with cheese. Dairy is fine on carnivore, I just had stopped eating it months before I was arrested. I also began scavenging from the regular food any time there was meat that wasn’t too processed on the menu. A couple of decent screws started trying to get grilled chicken included on my diet, including the bitch manager who had threatened me with force feeding. Over time she had become more sympathetic to me. Around week 12 in custody grilled chicken was on the menu.
So between week 6 and week 13 I reckon my weight was stable, though I still wasn’t getting enough animal fat.
On week 13 I was transferred to Yatala labour prison and shoved into a punishment cell with a guy accused of mass murder who was in a punishment cell himself for bashing his former cell mate. Obviously solitary confinement wasn’t working as a way to coerce me into accepting bail. The powers that shouldn’t be must have decided that another tactic was required.
Yatala is a prison, not a remand centre. Though the remand centre still saw themselves as a prison, Yatala was another level of harshness. Maximum security, military discipline and no interaction with screws without kissing arse and begging for favours.
I wasn’t prepared to kiss arse or beg.
That meant when no eggs or chicken special diet arrived, there was no one to complain to without giving them another victory.
For the next 3 weeks I simply picked out the carnivore bits from the food and left the rest. For my own safety I only left the cell for phone calls to my wife and had close to zero exercise. My muscles began to seriously atrophy. Fast! The online canteen in Yatala was better though and after a week in punishment I was allowed to order from it. I ordered full cream long life milk which supplemented the morning reduced fat fresh milk we were given. 500ml fresh skimmed, 1 litre full cream long life, gave me a base of 850 calories a day from which I added between 300 and 700 calories from picking out carnivore foods from the slop. I no longer cared how processed the meat was. I also ate bananas and citrus fruit when they had it and twice I ate some custard despite the sugar. I had 11 days of no full cream milk and 9 days with, before I was released. So 11 more days on between 500 and 900 calories depending what was served and 9 days with an extra 630 calories from the long life milk.
I had expected to spend up to another 13 weeks in custody and figured that although I was now losing weight again, including muscle, that I could avoid serious damage, even if I came out looking like a concentration camp survivor. I hadn’t factored on the lack of fat. I was 80kg when I was released. But I look nothing like 20 years ago. I didn’t realise how bad I was until my wife took photos of me.
I have lost 3 inches from my waist, chest and butt and nearly 2 inches from my upper arms. My legs look like matchsticks and skin is sagging in many places all over my body. Since getting out I have been consuming close to 6000 calories a day in steaks, bacon, eggs, butter, cream, jerky and biltong. I’ve put 2 kilos back on already, but now I must also begin to rebuild the lost muscle. I’m just grateful to God that I didn’t have to spend another 13 weeks in custody. I had seriously underestimated just how much damage had been done to my health.
Prisons follow the government food guidelines, which are as fraudulent as man made global warming. The carbohydrates, processed crap and lack of animal fat couldn’t be better designed to exacerbate the health problems of already mentally unstable people. You can get a diet for Muslims in prison, you can be pandered to if you are a vegetarian or vegan, but if you want to eat food that is actually healthy for you, then you will struggle. Healthy people commit less crime and the prison system is an industry like any other that protects its business. The government also has no incentive to give good health advice. Food industry lobby groups provide lots of funding for politicians seeking a career. They also control research funding so bureaucrats only get fraudulent information from “experts” to pressure the politicians with. You can feed a man on a carnivore diet for as little as $8 a day so it’s not like money is the issue. Meal preparation time is also drastically less, meaning less wages. With the cost of imprisonment being $422 per prisoner per day, the tax payer would certainly benefit as well. But when was the last time politicians in this country cared about their interests?
So this is the truth about being “starved” in prison. Technically I wasn’t, but the pictures of before and after tell you the full truth.
Header image: Left, Stephen Wells in 2023 while running for Busselton Council. Right, wearing the same suit after being released from jail (Supplied).
You can find Stephen Wells on Telegram.
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