The real state of my life

I am 37 years old and was born in Hong Kong, with a post-secondary level of education. I am the eldest daughter in my family. Due to my parents’ work commitments, I have lived with my grandparents since infancy, so my relationship with them is particularly close.

In 2009, I entered the real estate industry until 2019 when the pandemic broke out. At the time I had just separated from my husband, with whom I have an 11-year-old son. I became a single mother.

Soon after I came to know a man who proved a very bad influence in my life. We both worked in real estate together but lost our jobs due to COVID-19; I worked part-time as a waitress while he struggled with depression, alcoholism, and gambling. He exhausted both his savings and mine and became physically abusive — neighbors called police several times. I feared him greatly.

Because the apartment was rented in my name, I could not escape being implicated. That was when I realised that he had lied about working at night — he had in fact been trafficking drugs.

In June 2023, he was arrested for drug use and spent a week in hospital. This was the first time I learned of his drug habit. After his release, I believed him when he promised to quit. However, every day I went to work and returned home late at night, often finding that he was not at home. We quarrelled over this and he claimed he was going out at night to work, asked me not to scold him, and promised he would definitely quit drugs. I believed him at the time because I thought he feared going to prison and was determined to change.

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Happily never after

My name is Axel. I am 19 years old and I was born and have lived in France my whole life. I was 18 when I arrived in Hong Kong with 12 kg of ketamine in my luggage. My lawyer told me I am facing 10–15 years of imprisonment. When I heard this, it was the most unreal thing that has ever happened to me. All I could do was accept my circumstances and build my relationship with God while waiting to return to society.

Before doing this “job,” I had a regular life: a girlfriend, work, and I even got an apartment with my friend in 2025.

How it all began was very casual. A mutual friend came up to me, mentioned that a job was available, and asked if I was interested. However, they didn’t know any specifics about what the “job” was. I spontaneously agreed and asked for some sort of contract or contact so I could reach them. Soon after, they told me they would give me a number.

When I finally spoke with that person, they told me what I was supposed to do and reassured me that it was “safe,” explaining that it was impossible to be arrested because everything had been tested and planned thoroughly, and that they had “connections” at the airports who were paid so the bag could not be stopped or searched.

It sounded like a living fairy tale. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the furthest thing from what I had hoped for.

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No Brotherhood off-screen

I have been to prison seven times, and each time has felt harder than the last. The physical and mental torment is difficult to describe. I carry deep guilt toward my family, especially my parents, and I regret my choices. I want to go home, but I can’t, and that leaves me anxious and restless. People outside rarely understand what prison life is like—the hardship, sorrow, self-blame, and suffering can only be known by those who have lived it.

This is how I ended up here: because of a difficult family background, problems at school, and the friends I kept, I came into contact with drugs and eventually went to prison—what I think of as the “suffering of incarceration.”

My first imprisonment happened after a relapse. I was controlled by a group of so-called friends who sold drugs. I even helped them traffic drugs, but before I received any payment, I was arrested.

When I was young, I joined the triads partly because of how media glorified them. Movies made members look stylish, powerful, and protected—like joining meant no one could bully you. They also portrayed “brotherhood” and loyalty as if members would help each other no matter what.

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Caught in the wheels of crime

I am 23 years old and currently in a correctional institution. I am charged with trafficking 59 kilograms quantity of methamphetamine. A duty lawyer told me that my sentence could be between 33 to 36 years, and even with remission, I would still have to serve at least 16 years before being released.

On May 23, 2023, a man I had met previously met in Hong Kong called me and asked me to come back with a part-time job offer. The job would pay me HK$5,000, including some money owed to me. At the time, I was in in Mainland China taking care of my mother, who had returned there for medical treatment, and I was planning to return to Hong Kong where I had been living to look after my younger brother. So I agreed.

On the evening of May 27 I returned to the city and received a call from this male acquaintance, who told me that another contact would reach out with instructions. I had met this contact a few years ago and had had a meal with him once. Sometimes he contacted me to help pick up things—usually mobile phones or cosmetics. This time, I thought it would be similar and did not ask many questions.

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A mother’s abounding love

I’m not the only child in my family, but my brother is 15 years younger than me. We don’t have the same father. When I was a baby, my parents broke up. My grandma raised me, and I went back to my mother’s side in secondary school. After my brother was born, I started smoking and spending time with friends outside school, so I couldn’t study well.

Most of the time I didn’t like staying at home. My friends were like me. We stayed out late, smoked, took drugs, and didn’t go home.

I remember one time, when my mother was pregnant with my brother, she called the police and reported me missing. After a few days I was caught. Because it had happened so many times, the police said I couldn’t return home. That was my first time in “children’s jail,” and it wasn’t as horrible as people imagine.

I wasn’t really scared. I could call my family, write letters, and learn things there. But I missed my family—especially my mother. She is wonderful, and I love her very much. When she visited, she brought a lawyer and McDonald’s. I cried. She said she was sorry I ended up there, and I felt the warmth and guilt.

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The tiger awaits

From as far back as I can remember, talking with my family—my parents, my mother, my older sister, and my older brother—became harder and harder. I felt like no one at home wanted to spend time with me or truly care about me. Because of that, I desperately looked for close friends at school.

But I didn’t like studying and my grades were poor, so the well-behaved classmates didn’t want to be friends with me. I felt like I was being pushed out on purpose. Inside, it hurt a lot. Feeling isolated, I naturally ended up hanging out with the so‑called “black sheep,” blending into their circle of eating, drinking, and just passing time.

Around then, I also started being exposed to drugs and other illegal ways of making quick money. When I watched my friends and drinking buddies take drugs in front of me, I was curious, but I still didn’t have the courage to try that “free” and “high” feeling myself.

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Chasing the dragon – Part 3

CONTINUED FROM PART 2
NO GLAMOUR IN TRIADS

The triads are not as glamorous as movies portray; movies only glorify them. There is a saying “out of ten bad boys, nine are truly wicked.” The triads exploit you. When you’re young, a big group of people follows a boss to eat and drink. A single look or bump can spark a fight; they boss people around, thinking it’s cool, but in reality, it’s just the many bullying the few.

There is no such thing as a free lunch in this world. These bosses exploit the ignorance and mindset of young people, taking advantage of human weakness. They will never provide free food, drink, entertainment, or drugs long term. At first, they lure you into drug use so you get addicted. When you can no longer escape, you have to pay the price. You don’t think carefully about the consequences for the money to buy drugs, accepting them happily. They will tell you to do drugs or commit robberies — anything to make money. Some get lucky and don’t get caught by the police despite committing many crimes, but many get arrested the first time. For a reward of tens of thousands or only a few thousand, you suffer more than a decade in prison. Not everyone is that lucky.

I want to share a true story here.

There was a 30-year-old young gangster who fell deep into drug addiction. His triad boss asked him to go to Europe to smuggle a batch of ivory powder into Hong Kong. The payment was HK$30,000. The young gangster thought he could go to France and the Netherlands with his girlfriend for free, since his boss covered the airfare and hotel stay, plus a daily allowance of 150 euros. Having worked for the boss for nearly 10 years, he believed he wouldn’t be cheated, so he accepted the job.

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Chasing the dragon – Part 2

CONTINUED FROM Part 1
The Diamond Hill murders

In October 2022, I was admitted to Lai Chi Kok Reception Centre. At first, I didn’t have any special feelings because prison life for me just meant no drugs, no women, and no internet. I was already used to the rest of it. But on June 2, 2023, a tragedy happened. A murder took place at Diamond Hill Hollywood Plaza. A mentally ill man randomly killed two young women. On June 3, when I read the newspaper, I noticed the second victim looked very familiar. The newspaper obscured the victim’s face with a grid, so I couldn’t see it clearly, but I still felt it looked familiar, like my daughter. I looked closer at the victim’s name; at that time, the paper only printed the surname. I was relieved and thought it couldn’t be possible — I must be overthinking. I even discussed the case with other inmates, saying how brave the second victim was. Despite being unarmed, she tried to save her friend four times and ultimately lost her life to the attacker.

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Chasing the dragon – Part 1

I am 46 years old this year. I was remanded in custody in October 2022 for burglary.

Growing up

I was born in 1976, and my family lived in an old housing estate on the eastern part of the Kwun Tong District in Kowloon. I have three older sisters and one older brother; I am the youngest. Because both of my parents worked when I was little, they didn’t have time to take care of me, so I stayed at my grandmother’s house. However, my grandmother was very strict, and I was often physically punished or left without food, which made me want to rebel from a young age.

My family could be described as a triad family. My uncle was a triad boss, my brother-in-law was a triad leader, and both my brother and cousin were also members of the triads. From a young age, I was surrounded by triad members, and both my uncle and brother-in-law also sold drugs.

During school holidays when I didn’t have to go to class, I would return to my parents’ home, where I was very happy because many people would take me to the park downstairs, and I could eat snacks and drink soda at the local convenience store for free. This was because the area was full of triads, and the people who took me out to play were the so-called “bad boys” from the neighborhood. So all the food was free. I clearly remember seeing my uncle at home using a matchbox to smoke something off a piece of silver paper (later, I learned it was heroin — the “chasing the dragon” method).

I thought it was very strange back then, wondering what my uncle was doing, and he looked very comfortable and seemed to be enjoying himself. When I moved back to live with my parents in Form 1, I was very happy because I finally escaped hardship and could live well. Maybe my mother felt guilty for not spending much time with me when I was young, so she spoiled and indulged me, never scolding or punishing me even when I made mistakes. This made me even more out of control. I skipped school all the time and was eventually expelled. Not only did I stop going to school, but I also spent every day hanging around basketball courts and arcade centers, where I met a group of delinquent friends. By age 14, I even joined a triad. I idled my time away daily, eating, drinking, partying, chasing girls, and getting into fights.

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From blind trust to hard truth

I am 52 years old. On December 15, 2022, because of a drug case involving my flat, I was imprisoned in Lo Wu Correctional Institution. To others, my case may seem impossible or even laughable, but in truth, I was simply extremely foolish. My boyfriend had used my unit for drug trafficking, and through negligence and blind trust, I ended up facing arrest.

Here in prison, most people call me “Ah Bo” or “Grandma” because they know I want to be a grandmother, so younger inmates sometimes address me that way. I come from a humble family with six siblings, being the youngest. When I was six, my father left due to an affair. My mother was heartbroken, drank heavily, and often threatened suicide — sometimes saying she would take me with her. This happened several times a week. My eldest brother cared for me, becoming both brother and father in my life.

At fifteen, my father was hospitalised for heart problems. The family forgave him and took him home to recuperate. The next year, I left school to work as a sales assistant. Later I married, had a son, and stopped working during pregnancy. My mother‑in‑law helped care for my son, so when he turned one, I returned to work as a promoter.

When my son was five, my husband became a compulsive gambler and violent. At seven, I divorced him and took my son with me. Money was tight, but a kind social worker helped me apply for social assistance, which I cancelled a year later after I started temp jobs.

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Debt, Desperation, and the Wrong Door

I am from Madagascar and currently in the Tai Lam Centre for Women.

I was born and raised in a very underprivileged family in Madagascar. My parents had no stable jobs. We lived in a small village where my father had a small rice field. My mother was only 16 when I was born, and my father was 19. They were not yet ready to manage a family or support us adequately.

As the eldest of four children at the time, I still remember going from village to village alone to sell fruits that my father harvested from his farm. This meant I could only attend school in the mornings; in the afternoons, I had to help my parents.

Later, because of our difficult life, my parents separated. My three younger brothers and I went to live with our paternal grandmother. Neither parent was able to take care of us — we were lucky if we saw them once a year.

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Double Exposure: Framed in a Foreign Land

I am Mexican and I work as a professional photographer in Mexico City. I have been doing this work for more than 30 years. My business is producing annual calendars for companies or factories, showing the most professional side of their work.

A few months before coming to Hong Kong, I did a job for a tourist company that had purchased some ships from a factory in America. I carried out the work for the company’s annual calendar, with images of a shipyard in the city of Marseille, France. I also took a trip on the ship to understand its function. I did all this a few months before coming to Hong Kong.

If you check my passport, you will see my travel history, as before carrying out the job, I made a trip to identify the places where the work would be done, and then returned to complete it. This process took me approximately four months to carry out — producing and finishing the images, presenting them to my clients and, if they were satisfied, printing the calendars.

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From Sunbeds to Shackles

I am from the island of Mallorca, Spain, and was arrested at Hong Kong International Airport for carrying in my suitcase pills containing an illegal substance known as “ecstasy” — specifically about 14,000 pills with a total weight of 2.367 kg.

I am currently 58 years old and held at Stanley Prison, awaiting a Supreme Court hearing for sentencing, having voluntarily pleaded guilty.

I wish to share the story of my life and explain how I made the mistake that placed me in this unnatural situation as a prisoner in Hong Kong.

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Turned to dust by “powdered gold”

I am writing to share my story from the Federal Republic of Côte d’Ivoire in West Africa. My family was very poor, and I became an orphan at a young age. I am now a mother of three children—my eldest is fifteen, my second is five, and my youngest is two years and four months old, born via Caesarean section.

I have three sisters from the same mother. Our mother died during childbirth when I was very young, so I never knew her. My father passed away in a motor accident, leaving us orphaned. Life became extremely difficult for my sisters and me.

After our parents’ deaths, my eldest sister moved to town to work as a babysitter. I stayed in the village with another sister, where we fetched water for widows and elderly people to earn money for food. None of us attended school. Our uncle provided no support, while his own children went to school and mocked us for our work.

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From clothes seller to drug courier

I am 45 years old, born in Tanzania in the Mbeya region, Kyela district. In a family of 11 children, I am the 10th child.

I got married when I was 17 years old and was blessed with four children, all of whom are boys. But when I was pregnant with my last child, that is when my life changed until today where I am here in prison. When I was three months pregnant, I went to the hospital to start the antenatal care. When you are pregnant in Tanzania, you must test for HIV. I tested and was found to be infected with the HIV virus.

When I returned home and explained the HIV test results to my husband and asked him to test as well, he angrily refused to get tested saying he is safe and has no infection. Since I was the one infected, I entered this situation on my own, and my life changed. He started drinking heavily and beating me a lot.

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