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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