I am a 24-year-old Brazilian currently in a Hong Kong prison. I have five children and grew up with separated parents, being raised by my grandparents in the interior of São Paulo. I moved to Fortaleza in 2020.
I lived with my children and worked tirelessly to support them without any help. Despite my efforts, I never received any assistance from my family. After the separation, my parents abandoned me and showed no interest in my well-being or that of my children.
A few months ago, I found myself in a moment of desperation. I was unemployed, with overdue bills and rent, and no money for food. To make matters worse, my five-month-old son had a bout of bronchitis. I spent my nights and days crying and feeling lost. It was at this moment that an acquaintance offered me a job and said that the payment would be of great help to me.
At the time, it seemed like a solution, so I accepted it without asking what it was. I wasn’t afraid of hard work, whether as a cleaner or garbage picker, but I didn’t realize it was such a serious matter. She said it was only for a fortnight, so I left my older children with their father and the youngest with a couple, friends of mine.
When I heard that, fear kicked in and I asked about the possibility of going to jail.
After arriving in São Paulo, I went to a house with twenty other people. That night, a dark-haired man who appeared to be African and spoke both English and Portuguese, around 35 years old, asked why I was there. I explained my situation to him, and he offered to lend me the money. He said that I could pay him back after the service was over. Grateful for the offer, I accepted it without further thought, feeling as though it was nothing short of a miracle.
The man said that we would have to take a special medicine for a week, as it would help the body handle transporting drugs. When I heard that, fear kicked in and I asked about the possibility of going to jail. He assured me that there was no danger, as the last person who was arrested for this was in 2016. Despite this, I still wanted to back out. However, I wouldn’t have been able to pay back the money he had lent me, and I also didn’t want to be indebted to him. I didn’t know what he would do with my children or family.
The next day, he took me to get a passport, buy clothes and luggage, and explained how everything would work. The drugs were well-packaged in capsule format and we would have to ingest them. As time went on, my fear only increased. He mentioned that there were five countries on the route: London, Dublin, Amsterdam, Morocco, and Hong Kong, with Hong Kong being my destination. During the treatment, he held “meetings” explaining how to walk, talk, behave, and, most importantly, not attract attention.
On May 6th, at around 11pm, he brought the capsules in three sizes: large, which cost 155.00 reais, medium, which cost 125.00 reais, and small, which cost 100.00 reais (1 reais = US$4.72). I only needed 100 of the small capsules to pay him back and be done with everything. However, when I reached around 60 capsules, I started to feel sick, and he gave me a vitamin to help me feel better. I managed to ingest all 100 capsules, but things only got worse after that.
On May 8th, I arrived at the Hong Kong airport and was stopped by customs, who questioned me extensively. They subjected me to an intimate strip search and an X-ray, after which I was taken to Queen Elizabeth Hospital and arrested for drug trafficking. In that moment, all I could think about were my beautiful children and how foolish I was to believe that money was a miracle.
On May 22nd, I arrived at Tai Lam prison, where I can only hear from my family once a month. I feel a void inside me, knowing that in my moment of desperation, I lost my life, my children, and my freedom. My baby will grow up without me and may believe that I abandoned them. What was the money worth if it came with the pain of longing, tears, and despair?
What was the point of all this if it took me away from my children, brought me fear, kept me from sleeping and waking up with them, and put me in danger of spending 25 years in prison and missing their entire lives? Regret haunts me constantly. No amount of money is worth the pain.
To those who may consider this path, I implore you not to use anyone’s pain and despair to justify it. And to the man who deceived me, promising to help and ultimately taking away mothers like me, stop preying on vulnerable people. Only those who have hit rock bottom understand the pain and are unable to play the role of a mother, watching their children grow up without being surrounded by the love that only a mother can give.
Today, I pray and ask the judge to give me a second chance and not let my children grow up without a mother, because I, like many people, know how it hurts not to have that love. And for those who, like me, were “mules,” I hope they understand that trafficking is not a solution and that once you go to jail, it’s hard to get out. Here, there is only despair, tears, and longing.
Do not believe in false help, where the end result brings you to prison, where your mind becomes your enemy, as memories of happy moments bring you to tears for not being able to relive them. Where there is only pain and loneliness, instead of hugs, kisses, and “I love you” from those who truly care about you.
Trafficking or anything else that takes away your children, family, or freedom is not worth it. No amount of money can take away the pain of not having my children with me.
No amount of money can take away the pain of not having my children with me. I am not a criminal; I am a mother who found herself in despair. I dream and have faith that soon I will have the warm embrace of my five little angels. So, before accepting any “solution,” consider how painful the consequences can be. And if you find yourself in danger of being locked up, run far away. This is the story of a mother who suffers without her children.
Note: This article was translated from the original letter in Portuguese. Translation has been made to the best of our abilities and edited for clarity.