Rebuilding on the outside
Tahlia Isaac had lived a life of chaos and destruction.
“My whole world was using or selling drugs,” she says.
“I had an ice addiction that lasted nearly 10 years.”
After completing high school in 2008, the Kamilaroi woman was introduced to ice by a friend and soon became addicted.
During this period, Isaac began selling the drug on the street to make ends meet which further fed her addiction.
“My life was burning to the ground, lots of violence and instability. I was numbing myself daily with no purpose or direction,” she explains.
Eventually, Isaac had found herself convicted for drug trafficking in 2018, when a police officer pulled her over and inspected her car.
“When I finally got [to prison], I was exhausted and scared. I had no idea what my future would look like. It was terrifying and sad," she says.
After nine months Isaac’s sentence was over, and she was released back into society.
“When I was released, I was lucky enough to have a safe place to go.”
But for the vast majority of people sharing Isaac’s story, their reality is vastly different.
According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), there were 18,200 prison dischargees from April to June 2025. For these 18,200 dischargees, nearly half are expected to be homeless on release.
Yet these services have a little number beds to support the vast amount of people leaving prison.
As many previously incarcerated people face exclusion from homelessness services due to their prison record.
The Community Restorative Care (CRC) found in 2025 that there are only 38 allocated specialist beds funded by the government for people exiting prison in NSW - 11 specifically for women, 27 for men and zero for gender-diverse adults.
These specialist beds are provided through programs like the Transitional Supported Accommodation, with referrals for individuals made by local Community Correctional offices.
St Vincent's Matthew Talbot Hostel in Woolloomooloo, provides shelter and support to homeless men. Photo: Roman de Vallance
St Vincent's Matthew Talbot Hostel in Woolloomooloo, provides shelter and support to homeless men. Photo: Roman de Vallance
The Talbot Hostel has 98 non-allocated beds for men, with a maximum stay of 3 months. Photo: Roman de Vallance
The Talbot Hostel has 98 non-allocated beds for men, with a maximum stay of 3 months. Photo: Roman de Vallance
Rosie Heselev, founder and editor-in-chief of About Time, a newspaper distributed to prisons across Australia, says a lack of funding for specialist beds lead to a cycle of homelessness.
“Housing is the number one issue."
“There’s a critical shortage of public and social housing, and investment is lacking. There are crisis housing services for short-term emergencies, but they only last a few days. Social and public housing has extremely long waitlists so it's unlikely you’ll get something quickly,” Heselev explains.
A lack of pre-release planning, housing instability, poor community support and pre-existing drug, alcohol and mental health issues, are potential risks for homelessness post-release.
This stems from both inadequate planning and unstable accommodation, undermining the motivation for individuals to stop reoffending.
Research by the CRC found that the cycle of incarceration and re-offending is associated with housing instability and homelessness.
A mural in Woolloomooloo shows the writing on the wall. Photo: Roman de Vallance
A mural in Woolloomooloo shows the writing on the wall. Photo: Roman de Vallance
Rosie Heselev says this cycle is common in the prison system.
“[About Time] published an article by an individual who keeps reoffending just to have a roof over his head and how demoralising that is. People don't want to be in prison, people want to self-actualise and be able to move on with their life,” Heslev explains.
“It just shows how desperate and how poor the system is that this happens so often - that people have to feel that in order to survive, that they need to.”
In NSW there are a small number of not-for-profit community based organisations providing post-release transitional support, they are severely underfunded and are only able to support a small fraction of the many thousands of people who leave prison each year.
One of these organisations delivering this support is Penny Kehoe, foundero of Homeless Not Nameless.
Homeless Not Nameless aims to achieve societal integration, through providing new clothes for homeless people, rough sleepers and prison releases.
One of Kehoe’s programs involves providing ‘Wellness Bags’ to correctional services for inmates, who are at risk of homelessness on release.
These bags are delivered by hand to jails across NSW, and are distributed amongst inmates by employees on release.
These ‘Wellness Bags’ help prisoners adjust from jail to the streets, with each bag containing a change of clothes, toiletries and rough sleeping gear.
Penny says it's common to see prison releasees go straight to the street.
“I got two emails today - two guys being released next week. One is going to be rough sleeping. One is being released with just the clothes on his back and no community support. He’ll likely go into temporary accommodation for a couple of weeks, and then, who knows?”, Kehoe explains.
“I’ve had men come [to Woolloomooloo] in their prison uniforms, I’ve seen people sleeping in garbage bags because they don’t have a blanket or sleeping bags. We can do better.”
Kehoe organises pillows and clothes to create 'Wellness Bags' for prison releasees. Photo: Roman de Vallance
Kehoe organises pillows and clothes to create 'Wellness Bags' for prison releasees. Photo: Roman de Vallance
Kehoe supplies bags of sanitary products to homeless individuals. Photo: Roman de Vallance
Kehoe supplies bags of sanitary products to homeless individuals. Photo: Roman de Vallance
At present, direct releases from prison can occur at any time of the day, and usually individuals don’t have their pre-incaceration belongings, such as their wallet, ID or their phone.
Meaning, they typically leave with the clothes on their back.
Although most individuals receive emergency accommodation for one to two nights, they are often overpriced, unstable and lacking basic necessities.
“Most accommodation is only for one night and at that point, you may as well put people on the street,” Tahlia Isaac says.
Finding work can be just as difficult, as with criminal work, it creates a barrier to reintegration.
“The siloed services, the disjointed systems, having to tell my story a thousand times. The job service provider told me to apply for jobs when I knew I wouldn’t get them because I had a criminal record,” Isaac explains.
Despite this, Isaac has risen above; graduating from university with a masters degree in Criminology and becoming the Founder and CEO of Project:herSELF.
Isaac started Project:herSELF with the aim that whether behind bars or finding their way out, women deserve the tools, resources, and support to reclaim their lives on their own terms.
But as Isaac says, “No one has the "silver bullet" to prevent people from returning to prison. It’s too complex, it involves services, timing, opportunity, readiness, and support systems.”
Penny Kehoe says there are many gaps in the government's process to support recent prison releasees.
“As far as they're concerned, they've done their time—see you later, you're out. You've done your time. Off you go,” she says.
NSW Minister for Housing and Homelessness, Rose Jackson, declined to comment.
