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WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2
In the second part of his photo series, photographer Chris Bolze portrayed twelve young men in the closed juvenile detention center, the JVA Herford and documented their personal stories. In candid interviews, the inmates responded courageously to his questions, offering powerful insights into their lives. These are stories of honor, addiction, upbringing, power, and money – forces that have significantly shaped their paths. Some of them have been incarcerated since the age of sixteen. (AI*) The photographer was required to protect the identities of the young individuals by not showing their faces. To explore a new visual approach and still convey their stories, a compelling blend of traditional portrait photography and AI-assisted image editing was created. The individuals were photographed as shown, while the surrounding scenes were generated using artificial intelligence.

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 1
This young inmate looks back through prison bars at a life that went off track early. It all began at 16—stealing, drugs, life on the streets. He spent his childhood in group homes and only found his mother at age 16 through social media. The desire to be close to her led him to Münster—and into a whirlwind of weed, alcohol, and later hard drugs like cocaine and heroin. To fund his increasingly expensive habit, he began stealing. Using magnets, he bypassed security systems, stole electronics, clothing, alcohol—and sold it all. But it didn’t stop at theft: he took part in armed robberies of supermarkets and gas stations, driven by the thrill and fast money. One time, a forgotten knife in his pocket during a shoplifting incident led to a charge of armed theft—a turning point.
After one and a half years in prison, he says jail is “shit,” but “not as bad as I thought.” He still smokes weed, easily up to 15 grams a day, calling it a “problem” rather than an addiction. Sometimes, when caught, he ends up in solitary confinement. He swings daily between self-deception and insight.
His release is imminent, and the fear of relapse is growing. He wants to work, have structure, leave crime behind—but Münster is full of temptations. He knows: one day at the main train station could be enough to lose everything. Assisted living, distance from old contacts—that’s his hope.
He wants a new life, but he knows himself too well. “Messing up can be fun sometimes,” he says with a bitter smile. Torn between longing for freedom and the pull of addiction, he fights for the chance that this time, things will be different.
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📸 Foto / Editing / KI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 2
22 years old, convicted of arson. That’s his reality. But his story is far more complex than a verdict. Born in Syria, he fled alone to Germany eight years ago—to escape military service in a war that had already claimed the lives of his brother and five cousins. A long journey through refugee shelters and group homes eventually led him to Rheine. He went to school, worked at McDonald’s and DHL—searching for stability where none could be found.
But in his accommodation, he clashed with two groups—Arabs and Afghans. After a break-in and several fights, he ended up injured in the hospital. At the same time, an internal battle began: he heard voices and regularly took Tilidin—until he became addicted. The diagnosis: schizophrenia and psychosis.
Then came the night that changed everything. After an argument with a roommate, his room suddenly went up in flames. He was in the shower as the fire consumed his few belongings. Two people were injured. Traces of gasoline on his clothes, memory gaps, voices in his head—he still doesn’t know what really happened.
During the trial, he felt powerless. He insisted he was innocent, but no one believed him. When the verdict was handed down—three and a half years in prison—his mother, his girlfriend, and her parents sat in the courtroom. For him: a catastrophe.
Today, he takes medication that has silenced the voices in his head. He says he’s “glad and finally calm.” He never wants to touch Tilidin again. His wish: to live with his parents after release, start fresh, far from drugs and bad influences.
For his portrait, he asked for wings—a symbol of the “good angels” who once protected him. His story speaks of escape, inner battles, and the courage to rise again even after the darkest experiences.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 3
This story follows a young man whose struggle with pressure and inner demons erupted in a night of violence—changing two lives forever.
Barely out of his teens, he dreamed of a simple life as a tiler. At 16, he left a home that rejected his love for a Christian woman and his lifestyle. With help from a social worker, he started training, quit drugs, and tried to stay on track. To celebrate peace, he planned a large engagement party—funded by a secret €10,000 loan. He worked himself to exhaustion to repay it, including off-the-books jobs. But his restlessness was seen as emotional distance and betrayal.
He stayed silent—believing a man must carry his burdens alone.
When a former friend spread rumors, things escalated. Under pressure, he broke off the engagement. Then he saw his ex with that same friend.
An angry call, insults, threats against his sister—and something snapped. He bought a knife at a kiosk, supposedly for work. But inside, a storm was raging.
When he confronted the friend, a glance was enough to lose control. In blind rage, he stabbed 21 times. The victim survived, badly injured—losing an eye, his life forever changed.
Now in prison, he asks: “Who am I? How did this monster inside me form?”
He fears his own anger, revenge, and himself. Nightmares keep the act alive. In the social therapy unit (SothA), he searches for the roots of his violence—and whether it can ever truly disappear.
He requested a photo that realistically reflects his crime. His portrait was taken under studio conditions at JVA Herford; the setting was AI-generated.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze + JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 4
An 18-year-old has been serving a five-year prison sentence since August 2023—convicted of murder. His crime is the result of years of inner turmoil rooted in a deep family tragedy.
The man he killed was once a close friend of the family, a trusted neighbor. He played with the children, looked after them—until it came to light that he had inflicted serious harm on the younger siblings of the now-incarcerated young man.
The shock was immense. Although the perpetrator had prior convictions for similar crimes, he remained unpunished in this case—a coerced confession was inadmissible, and it came down to one word against another.
To the boy, it felt like justice had failed.
Even moving to a new place couldn’t erase the memory. Years later, he saw the man again, and anger began to grow—the desire to do something. He planned to “teach him a lesson.” But when he finally stood before him at age 16, everything overwhelmed him. He lost control, grabbed a knife, and stabbed him.
The act was classified as murder, as it was planned and deliberately carried out.
Today, he uses his time in prison to reflect on his life. He’s training as a metalworker, working toward his secondary school diploma, and participating in therapy. He knows he has a quick temper and is working on managing his impulsiveness. At the same time, he’s reflecting on what anger, pain, and helplessness have made of him. He appears composed when speaking about the crime.
His story is one of pain, guilt, and an irreversible act—but also of a young person who wants to learn to take responsibility and start anew.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze + JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 5
A 23-year-old from Dortmund is currently serving a three-year prison sentence—for theft and grievous bodily harm. His story is marked by addiction, downfall, and the hope for a fresh start.
His criminal path began at age 20, driven by cocaine, heroin, and other drugs. To fund his use, he started stealing—initially from large stores, justifying it to himself: “The companies won’t feel it.” But soon, everything revolved around the next high. Cocaine made him feel like “the greatest,” while in reality, he lost everything—his family, his home, himself.
Addiction led him into homelessness and serious conflict with his parents. After therapy, he seemed briefly on the right track, but a relapse set him back. While trying to steal bicycles, he clashed with an undercover police officer—a moment that landed him back behind bars. Today, he feels ashamed of the lies and recklessness that defined his life.
In prison, he’s clean, has work, and a stable routine—things he lacked outside. He knows how hard it is to stay grounded without support and sees his chances for a drug-free life realistically: fifty-fifty.
The death of a friend from an overdose shook him deeply. He hopes not to follow the same path.
After release, he plans to leave Dortmund to make a clean break. His biggest wish is a life without hard drugs—“maybe with a beer or a joint, but without crashing.”
In prison, he discovered graffiti—a passion he hopes to pursue legally once he’s out.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 6
At 19 years old, he is serving a two-year and three-month juvenile sentence for grievous bodily harm.
He describes his act as one of protection. When his twin sister was harassed by a group of men, he lost control. A knife he happened to be carrying became a weapon.
He acted on impulse, driven by rage—and by the belief that protecting his family came above all else.
He had gone off track early in life. By his teenage years, he had racked up 76 charges, many for weapons possession. After being attacked with knives himself, he began carrying guns and even slept with a weapon under his bed. Soon came fast money: hash, cocaine, contacts reaching as far as the Netherlands and Belgium. At 16, he was earning thousands of euros a week, hiding €30,000 under his bed, and was seen on the streets as a reliable contact. He even offered “protection” to scammers—but would never have stolen from the elderly. To him, drug dealing was the “better” kind of crime.
His parents were desperate. They urged him to obey the law, tried to talk to him—but he wanted to show strength, to prove he was in control.
Only in prison did he begin to reflect. He now sees a psychologist and works on managing his impulsiveness.
Today, he sees prison as both punishment and opportunity. After his release, he wants a fresh start—finish school, become an auto mechanic, and cut ties with old friends. He knows the fast life will always be tempting, but he’s clear on the consequences:
“The illegal path always ends in prison—or the grave.”
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 7
A young man, raised between Russia, Ukraine, France, and Germany, is currently in prison.
Sentenced to two years for grievous bodily harm, he awaits another three years for a similar offense. He recounts beating a man brutally after being cheated in a drug deal. The victim suffered severe head injuries—caused by his fist, which he himself calls a “hammer.”
Since childhood, he has seen himself as a criminal. He calls prison his “second home”—a place where he finds safety, food, and work, while outside he had to fight to survive. His father was murdered, and he suffered from tuberculosis at an early age. Today, he says he has “failed” his mother and brother. Still, he describes his life as “perfect.” He loves weapons, knives, guns—loves the streets, the violence, the risk. Consequences don’t scare him—the adrenaline rush is what matters.
Yet deep down, he knows he serves as a cautionary tale. He had chances to change, but ignored them all. Therapy, fresh starts—none lasted. He speaks of an inner “switch” that drives him to violence, even when he seeks peace.
He hopes others will learn from his mistakes—that they’ll take paths he himself destroyed. For his own future, he sees few ways out. He wants to “see what happens,” but secretly wishes for a structured life with education and stability.
When he talks about love, he wavers between rejection and longing. He says he doesn’t want a relationship—yet dreams of one that “lasts forever.” Shallow “kindergarten relationships” disgust him.
Now, he has time to reflect. Perhaps he’ll realize that the streets and violence aren’t his destiny, but a choice—one he can change.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 8
At 20 years old, just before his 21st birthday, this young man has been in pre-trial detention for over eight months. Raised in OWL (East Westphalia-Lippe), with a high school diploma and martial arts training—seemingly normal, yet beneath the surface, another world was brewing.
His descent began when a neighbor asked if he wanted to sell cocaine. He said “yes.”
Five grams quickly became 50, then 100—soon half a kilo. Crack, heroin, hash, speed—by the kilo. Robberies, assaults, knife attacks became part of his daily life. When his father confronted him, he confessed everything and was kicked out.
The crime that landed him in prison: during a night of drinking, he got into a fight with a man who had previously betrayed his accomplice. He didn’t know the victim. When his associate was attacked with a knife, he intervened—with a vodka bottle. He himself was stabbed five times in the leg, but still wandered the city for hours injured until the police arrested him.
The charge: attempted murder. He hopes for a sentence of two to five years and not to be punished as severely as his co-defendant.
In prison, he has lost 20 kilos. He reflects a lot but admits that the criminal life was fun—good money, no regular job. At the same time, he knows it can’t go on like this. He wants to draw a line and “do something sensible.”
His cocaine use began at 18, followed quickly by benzos and ecstasy. Life in prison was “an absolute disaster” at first, but you get used to it. Only the isolation cell and five days “with nothing” remain “really shitty.”
His trial began in September 2025. The upcoming court dates will decide his future. A young man, caught between a dark past and an uncertain tomorrow—with the chance to one day lead a legal life.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 9
At 19 years old, he looks back on a youth filled with theft and break-ins. A Kurdish boy, he came to Germany from Syria 14 years ago and grew up in a refugee shelter. His parents gave him stability—but at 15, he began a criminal path, first out of a thirst for adventure, later out of greed for money.
He stole cars with friends. Once, he found a Skoda with the key still in the ignition at a dealership—a spontaneous “test drive” ended in a police chase. After crashing onto train tracks, he fled on foot, was later caught, and convicted. Together with his brother and a friend, he broke into cigarette vending machines. Once, he tried to crack a gum machine near a police station on his own—he fell while fleeing, seriously injured his eye, and lost vision on one side. The judge sentenced him to community service, stating: “God has already punished you enough.”
At 17, he spiraled further: drug dealing, cocaine, break-ins—now more targeted, often alone. During a burglary at a kindergarten, he stole a safe, found €300 and a credit card, withdrew more money, and shared it with his brothers to “keep them off the streets.”
His last crime: a break-in at a public health office. While trying to flee, he was surprised by police. An accomplice threw an axe at an officer, he himself fell—and was identified. He was sentenced to three years in prison.
In prison, he began to take responsibility. Today, he’s training as a painter and plans to move to another city after release—far from his old environment. A fresh start, a real life.
He knows relapses are possible—out of necessity, not boredom. But he wants to do things differently. For himself. And for his brothers, who he hopes will see his story as a warning.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2– Portrait 10
At just 16 years old, a young man entered the world of fraud. What began as harmless online scams quickly turned into a dangerous game with high stakes. To keep up with the luxurious lifestyle of his friends, he sent fake SMS messages, deceived unsuspecting victims—and earned thousands of euros in a short time. But the money was frozen, and conflicts with accomplices pulled him deeper into crime.
To solve his financial problems, he decided to rob two gas stations. The first attempt failed—he was arrested and soon released. But nine months later, the past caught up with him: a cigarette pack bearing his fingerprints exposed him. At 19, he was sentenced to two and a half years in prison.
At first, he tried to flee—but life on the run brought more fear than freedom. He turned himself in and began to reflect on his life while in prison. The structured routine, silence, and isolation forced him into self-reflection. The friends he once bragged about disappeared. What remained were disappointment, remorse—and his mother, who still stands by him.
He realized that fast money means nothing when built on lies and pain. Today, he plans to start a new life after release—as a painter or taxi driver, with honest work and a clear goal: never to fall back into old patterns. Assisted living is meant to help him transition into freedom.
The young man who once chased the thrill of fast money now wants to prove that change is possible.
He has learned that true strength doesn’t lie in deception, but in the courage to take responsibility and start over.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 11
At 21 years old, he was sentenced to six years and three months in prison for two counts of extortionate kidnapping. A young man from North Rhine-Westphalia—caught between wounded pride, a thirst for power, and the search for recognition.
His story didn’t begin in crime: he attended high school, had friends, dreams, and plans. But over time came school problems, missed classes, fights, and petty thefts.
His mother sought help, tried to bring him back—but he withdrew, step by step.
In 2019, he was held in pre-trial detention for the first time. Then came a group home, probation—a brief moment of hope. But by late 2021, he spiraled deeper. He started selling drugs, became more violent and suspicious.
His ego, he says today, was his greatest enemy. He couldn’t stand being “played.” When a debtor failed to pay €175,000, everything escalated. Together with accomplices, he kidnapped the man, locked him in a basement, and severely abused him. Five months later, he was arrested.
Today, in prison, he’s beginning to understand what he’s done. What weighs heaviest is the broken relationship with his mother—the woman who never gave up on him, even when he no longer deserved it. After months of silence, she visits him again.
Her love, he says, is the only thing that truly changed him.
He now knows the old path led to destruction. He wants to earn his secondary school diploma, train as a metalworker, and after prison, “just live a normal life.”
He says he wants to prove to himself that he’s not a monster, but someone who deserves a second chance.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford

WEIL WIR MENSCHEN SIND 2 – Portrait 10
A young man, 21 years old, is in pre-trial detention—uncertain of what awaits him. He was on the run for half a year before being arrested in December. The arrest warrant dates back to July of the previous year. The accusations are serious: kidnapping, abuse, guarding a victim, and death threats. The case involves drug dealings and possible arson attacks. He emphasizes that these are only allegations—no verdict has been reached. He responds to many questions with silence. He says, “I am not guilty.”
His biography tells of a life full of ruptures. After his parents separated when he was four, he moved frequently and attended eight schools—five elementary schools, two secondary schools, and one vocational school. Even as a child, he was involved in physical altercations.
At 14, he received his first charge for grievous bodily harm. But later, he says, he became calmer and learned to control himself.
Boxing was his passion—for four years, it gave him stability, discipline, and structure. Then he lost that anchor. Today, he describes daily life in prison as “strange,” “unpleasant,” “confining.” One hour of outdoor time, otherwise cell or work.
His father, shocked by the accusations, still stands by him. Visits, conversations, small gestures—they keep him going. His mother is from Lebanon, his father from Turkey. He describes himself as “kind, likable, and helpful,” despite everything that’s been said about him.
His trial begins in two months. It’s still unclear how the court will rule. But the fact that he wanted to be part of the photo project shows: he wants to be seen—as a person, not just a case file.
Due to his silence during the interview—each question “dripped” off him like thick syrup—the resulting work emerged: a combination of classic athlete portrait and AI-generated scene.
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📸 Photo / Editing / AI: Chris Bolze
✍️ Text: Chris Bolze & JVA Herford