Inmates with not much to offer can only have access to phone calls or short messages. But these are enough to maintain their contact with the outside world. They keep their illegal operations unhampered.

They have these at the New Bilibid Prisons (NBP), the national penitentiary, where the convicted criminals, some of them with high profile cases, are sent.

There are about 30,000 inmates at the NBP, nearly double its capacity of less than 18,000.

Just imagine the congestion of prisoners vying for space, toilet seats, shower time, food, medical attention, religious services and other necessities required for their rehabilitation.

We do not have the numbers, but it is common belief that not a big number of those released have come back to life’s mainstream as fully rehabilitated citizens.

Some of them have continued with their illegal operations within the walls of the NBP. And it is not surprising that the Senate probe on the Good Conduct Time Allowance (GCTA) Law is now hearing this, as if our good senators did not know about these all along.

One of them had even crossed criminal borders. From big bank heists, he had admitted to engaging in drug dealing and had used this very same criminal act for leverage with authorities to have a good life while in prison.

Our readers should remember his name. He was living the life of a rock star while in prison, a kind of life he could not have lived outside of it.

Imagine a high profile convict releasing his own records and music videos, made within the confines of the NBP, with his musicians coming in and out of the penitentiary facilities, and providing concerts to his fellow inmates, aside from putting up his own television network, with its own pool of television reporters, news anchors, hosts and entertainers.

The NBP is its own world. It is its own planet, where money rules.

Former Bureau of Corrections officer-in-charge Rafael Ragos revealed before the “surprised” senators that female prostitutes are a common fare for these inmates who could afford to pay for their services.

They bring in dancers, entertainers and prostitutes. They paid P30,000 for each overnight stay.

Some of them become these inmates’ girlfriends and wives, with Ragos naming drug lord Peter Co as among those frequently receiving female visitors in his cell, a Class A room which has the amenities that the common prisoners could only dream about.

These women, according to Ragos, sometimes end up as kidnap-for-ransom (KFR) victims.

Money has to be paid for their release, he said. He also revealed that some members of the Philippine National Police are involved in the KFR activities.

Inmates can have access to cellular phones. Bribes differ according to their use. An inmate pays a premium for social media access.

A female radio disc jockey once revealed receiving messages with selfies from NBP inmates during her midnight program. How could that happen? Bribery makes it possible.

Inmates with not much to offer can only have access to phone calls or short messages. But these are enough to maintain their contact with the outside world. They keep their illegal operations unhampered.

Money is paid for television sets, beer and liquor, cigarettes and drugs, which are aplenty inside.

Like that convict’s concerts, there are special events at the NBP. They hold parties, too, like nothing has changed when they were still free men.

Gambling operations inside the NBP is said to be 24/7. Some moneyed inmates build their own houses, or kubol, where these activities are held.

So, money flows freely within the NBP. Big amount of money that some NBP officials benefit from these illegal operations.

These make it easy for prisoners to bribe NBP officials further, many of them buying their way out of prison through the GCTA Law.

Then there’s the anomalies being looked at concerning the prisoners’ food allowance and the hospital passes which they could buy.

Yet, sacked BuCor chief Nicanor Faeldon now appears to have been a mere victim to all these. It’s no different when some Bureau of Customs (BoC) officials connived to sneak in billions-worth of shabu into the ports without his knowledge as he claimed.

He was merely incompetent, Malacañang tried to say but could not. What an excuse that we are being offered to accept it hook, line and sinker.

Meantime, it’s still sex, drugs and rock and roll at the NBP.

We were told by sources that high profile inmates act more powerful than the BuCor officials.

They are, really. Because the BuCor officials, the Senate probe now reveals, can be bought.

Reeking with a rottenness that can no longer be contained, the Bureau of Corrections (BuCor) has quite recently gotten the ignoble nickname, Bureau of Corruption.

It is a big shame, and were it not for the distasteful revelations now pouring out via the Senate investigation, this may have gone on far longer.

The admission of some BuCor officials recently that corruption in many forms — sex, drugs and rock and roll, indeed! — does exist in the New Bilibid Prison (NBP) should compel the Chief Executive to clean up the mess as soon as possible.

Already, there is a suggestion for the Department of Justice to get a tighter rein on BuCor, its attached agency.

According to Senate Minority Leader Franklin Drilon, a former Justice chief, “Republic Act 10575 or the Bureau of Corrections (BuCor) Act of 2013 must be amended because the agency has become ‘too powerful’ and its officials ‘are to be blamed for the corrupt practices in the bureau.’”

Word has it that prisoners are getting restless from the furor over the controversial Good Conduct Time Allowance (GCTA) Law, which was revealed to be a big pot of corruption.

Prison officials have allegedly made it brisk business to sell privileges to inmates, from cell phone use to prostitutes.

The testimony of Rafael Ragos, former BuCor officer-in-charge from November 2012 to March 2013, has unearthed anew these issues that had haunted the NBP for years.

Big money circulates within prison walls, from hospital passes to all-day gambling. Also troubling is the allegation that there’s also kidnap-for-ransom schemes going on “where inmates provide police tips on who to kidnap for ransom,” a report says.

By big money, we are talking about “P200,000 per victim,” according to Ragos, “P800,000 monthly” for gambling, “P30,000 for overnight stay of prostitutes” (some of whom reportedly end up as kidnap-for-ransom victims!) and goodness knows how much for gadgets, alcohol and feasts!

And, of course, there is that morsel called “early release” that convicts are buying, from P50,000 a pop to as much as P300,000. It could likely be more for those convicted of heinous crimes who had managed to be released under the GCTA Law.

Those with money can buy their freedom because of collusion, greed and a weak system that has allowed corruption to flourish as long as it has.

It is hard to deny as close to 2,000 inmates convicted of heinous crimes were actually released in the past few years even though they are not supposed to be qualified for it.

As Malacañang had clarified, the GCTA Law “excludes recidivists, habitual delinquents, escapees and persons charged with heinous crimes from its coverage.”

President Rodrigo Duterte had ordered these former inmates to turn themselves back in or risk being a fugitive of justice. Some 500 have already done so, but it is highly likely that big fish that got away will not be back at all.

What’s even more unfortunate is that corrupt officials and staff in the bureau that is mandated to help rehabilitate prisoners are still faceless and therefore blameless.

As with many other laws of our land, it is also the implementation that has presented all these problems. Clearly, the GCTA needs to be closely reexamined with more transparency and accountability measures for BuCor personnel who abuse the process for their gain.

What is now being done to unmask these people who are far, far worse than the inmates who are actually paying for their sins?