Adib is eighteen. He has four months down and seven to go at the Community Rehabilitation Centre. He works at our cafe on day-release, learning from a father who walked this road first and lived to tell the story.
Adib's earliest memories are of moving — from one relative's flat to another, never quite settling, never quite belonging. By the time he was a teenager, the unstable ground beneath his feet had pushed him toward something that felt, briefly, like solid: drugs and the friends who came with them. He was caught. He was sentenced to one year. Four months in, he sat across from us at the cafe with a CRC stamp on his file and a quiet, watchful smile.
The first role model
Most of our young men come through our door with no working blueprint for what change looks like. Adib is different. His father has been to prison. His father came out. His father became a supervisor. Every shift Adib works is, in some way, an attempt to take his father's blueprint and lay it down on his own life.
That's not a small thing. When you've never seen someone come back from where you are, you don't really believe coming back is possible. Adib has seen it. It has changed the way he carries his shoulders.
What he chose to do with his free hours
After work, back at camp, Adib reads. He plays guitar with a friend. He talks to himself, walking through his decisions out loud, working out what kind of man he wants to be on the day his release comes. He is comfortable with seniors and youth alike. He is patient. He learns. He has, without making any fuss about it, started behaving like a young professional in training.
One thing he said stayed with us: “I focus on staying out of trouble.” Simple words. Hard practice. He reminds himself of the progress he has already made, and that reminding has become its own discipline.
What the cafe is for
Adib doesn't need us to be impressive. He needs us to be steady. A predictable shift, colleagues who don't flinch when they hear his story, a mentor who can explain not just what to do but why — that's the architecture of a life rebuilt. Mentorship, he told us, matters more than any single skill. Working with good people who not only teach the job but also offer moral encouragement.
He'll be released on 24 March 2026. That morning, when he walks out, we'll be holding a shift for him.
Working with good people who not only teach the job but also offer moral encouragement — that's what an ideal programme looks like to me.— Adib, age 18
Soli Deo Gloria — to God alone be the glory.