Black belts Rousimar Toquinho and Murilo Bustamante paid a visit to a project where Jiu-Jitsu and martial arts are used as tools for rehabbing criminals in Rio de Janeiro (Praetorian brand publicity photo).

Ever since November of 2011, Complexo Penitenciário Genicinó, a penitentiary complex located in the Bangu neighborhood of Rio de Janeiro City, has been a testing ground for an efficient tool for prisoner rehabilitation—Jiu-Jitsu.

According to an article printed in Brazil’s O Globo newspaper (in Portuguese), over the years the measure has proven successful in the compound, now the largest prison in Latin America, with 18,000 detainees.

To be allowed to frequent the Jiu-Jitsu, boxing and Thai boxing academies on the prison grounds, prisoners have to be studying at the on-site schools, undergo rigorous medicals and, most importantly, not do anything that could go on their record as bad behavior or a transgression over the course of their sentence.

In the Jiu-Jitsu room at Bangu 4 prison, Mioses Julio Bormac, the subsecretary for prisoner treatment and a Jiu-Jitsu black belt, sets an example by himself rolling with convicts—ex-drug dealers, thieves, among others.

“These guys will one day be back on the street. If we don’t provide them with opportunities, it’ll be all the worse for society. They’ll be all the more perverse when they walk out these doors,” the subsecretary says in the article. “I don’t see martial arts as being a stimulus for aggression, but as a philosophy of self-defense and conduct. So far, we haven’t had a single incident involving the detainees. We’re more likely to see a brawl happen during soccer games in the jail yard than during martial arts class,” Moises illustrates.

Teaching Jiu-Jitsu class is the responsibility of Alan Freitas, a black belt from Carlson Gracie academy, and is backed by the likes of Master Sylvio Behring and the Pretorian brand of martial arts gear.

“I’ve been criticized for teaching them Jiu-Jitsu ever since I accepted this challenge,” says Alan. “People think I’m coming here to teach them to fight, providing criminals with weapons. To me Jiu-Jitsu teaches people to change their lives. So long as I have faith in the power of sport, I’ll continue to believe in this work I’m doing.”

Although they were suspicious at the outset, the prison guards have now noted positive changes in the behavior of the prisoners practicing Jiu-Jitsu.

Getting out from under: Tererê teaches a sweep at a2011 seminar in São Paulo. Publicity photo.

At a rehabilitation clinic in Ibiúna, São Paulo State, to deal with drug issues, Jiu-Jitsu star Fernando Tererê appears to have found a point of equilibrium whereby he can return home in peace.

His release will come in ten days, but Fernando has already left the clinic to sleep at his cousin’s house, showing he ‘s making progress.

The greatest hope for his recovery comes from the very mouth of the hook-guard-sweep king himself. In a moment of rare lucidness, Tererê told his close friends the following:

“I’m not an addict. What I have is schizophrenia. The disease is what makes me go after drugs. I wasn’t able to cope with the disease; I’d stop taking medication and have relapses. Now I’ve learned to deal with the disease. And all I want to do now is start training again and spread Jiu-Jitsu around the world. After all, I have a son to feed.”

Excited about what the future holds, Tererê has already scheduled seminars in Mexico and dreams of teaching in the USA again.

For now, though, he is biding his time while receiving visits from friends and family and the brother who has an even lither hip than he does: Patrick Carvalho, who dances with the acress Claudia Ohana on the Brazilian version of Dancing with the Stars.

Patrick, who has practiced Jiu-Jitsu in the past, ousted Minotauro from the program. Now he’s dancing to help pay the rest of the bills for his brother. We’re rooting for you, family.