Author: nomasmulas

Piling up onto their burden

I come from Malaysia and am currently in Hong Kong’s Stanley Prison.

I worked in furniture renovation in Malaysia. In 2022, the market turned bad and I was often unemployed. My family’s financial burdens were heavy—my elderly parents, my children, and the whole family depended on me. The weight on my shoulders was enormous.

Then, in 2023, I met an old classmate. At that time, I saw that his life was going well—he had bought a house and a car. Moreover, seeing my difficult situation, he was generous and lent me money to help me through my hardships. Gradually, one day I asked him what he was doing to be doing so well. Through his introduction, I ended up on this irreversible path.

I thought about my elderly parents, my children, and my own difficulties. He spoke so casually about it, and my mind was filled with greed!

At first, he asked me to carry items abroad, but I was scared and unwilling. Later, he told me I didn’t have to carry anything anymore; instead, he asked me to come to Hong Kong to receive goods for him at a hotel.

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Hard to build, easy to crumble

Everyone makes mistakes at some point in their lives. As a child, when I made a mistake, I would be scolded or punished by my parents or teachers, but in the end, I would all be forgiven. Yet, not all mistakes can be brushed aside, especially when one breaks the law. Such mistakes not only bring legal consequences but also destroy one’s future. I am an example of this life lesson…

I am 28 years old, and I have been in custody for nearly a year now. I was born in Shenzhen (China) and came to live in Hong Kong with my parents when I was 8 years old. Growing up, I was not particularly mischievous; my family always thought I was a sensible person, particularly because I started working part-time since the age of 15 to help with expenses.

But I did have a rebellious moment. Born into a grassroots family and raised in a public housing estate, it was inevitable that I would cross paths with  gangs and troublemakers…

When I was studying in Secondary One, I became acquainted with some friends who suggested me to “follow a gang leader.” to deal with the bullying I was suffering. I wanted others to know that I was not someone to be abused.

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From miracle to ruin

This is the story of a heartbroken mother who suffers without her children.

I am a 34 year old Zimbabwean in a Hong Kong prison. I have 3 children. I separated from my husband in 2019.

I was pregnant with my third child when I left my husband and moved to Harare (capital of Zimbabwe) in February 2020. I left my eldest son under the care of my parents back in my village.

I started a second-hand clothes trade business but then the Covid pandemic hit and that’s when things started to become very difficult. I was only managing to earn a small amount of money at that time, so I started to look for a job as a domestic helper, but I couldn’t find because I was pregnant. It was hard for me to get any other job as I didn’t complete my education. My parents didn’t have enough money to pay for my school fees.

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At the bottom of the social ladder

How I got involved in drug trafficking

Let’s start with my family background. Not long after my mother became pregnant with me, and due to the pressing need for money, my father was lured by a friend into committing fraud overseas and consequently sent to prison for a while.

After he came back my parents divorced. I ended up living with my grandmother, my father, and his girlfriend in a cramped public housing unit until my father went to work abroad. That was around the time when I was in primary school. He left me to live with my grandma ever since.

My family has only got elementary education, thus they couldn’t provide me with a nice growing environment. Most of the people I met were of low social status and the same level of education as I had.

I dropped out of high school, earning a living as a manual worker. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I became a part-time logistics worker for a supermarket. I worked in the daytime and went to a night school in the evening. My employer never paid me on time. I didn’t like it but it was hard to find another job at that moment. Coincidentally, one of my friends said he got a job for me. All I knew about the job was that I needed to deliver goods, something I excelled at because it didn’t require much mental effort. Besides, I thought it would be a good workout. I thought I would be doing the same as my existing job, just that I could have a better boss. So I accepted it without hesitation. Continue reading At the bottom of the social ladder

No security with drugs

I was imprisoned for drug trafficking and have now been in a correctional facility for 17 months, awaiting sentencing by the High Court.

Let me share my background. I have been working in a restaurant since I graduated from high school. Around the year 2020, I started to get into debt, my debts began to increase, and due to the impact of the pandemic, my income decreased. Unable to find a job, I had to borrow to repay old debts.

In March 2020, I found an extra job as a night-shift security guard, so I started working two jobs. My work at the restaurant began around 10 am until 10 pm, then I would go home to get ready to report to the security room. I worked all night until 7 am before going home for a nap. Sometimes, due to transportation issues, I couldn’t even go home and had to go directly from the security room to the restaurant to rest after my shift. I was only sleeping 3-4 hours a day.

This situation continued until the moment I was arrested, and I was supposed to work in the security room that night. Over the past year or so, my mental state deteriorated; I was severely sleep-deprived and tired. When I was on vacation, I would drink. Continue reading No security with drugs

Wheels of misfortune

With this letter, I want to be an example for people out there. Not to be misled or oppressed by drug people. They will always tell you that it’s an easy job, don’t believe it. This is my story and truth.

I came to Hong Kong to smuggle drugs for someone. They told me it was an easy job. Nothing could be further from the truth. They had hidden the drugs in a wheelchair where you couldn’t see them. When I arrived at Hong Kong airport, the police discovered the wheelchair and found the drugs. So people, no matter how they hide the drugs, the police will find them. Here in Hong Kong, if you get involved with drug gangs, you’ll go to jail for a long time.

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Caught in the snare

I’m a 31-year-old man from Uganda. I had difficulties getting a job after obtaining my bachelor’s degree in business administration. I finally got a job as a salesman through my father, a branch manager at a store that sold tires. I held this job for more than five years.

It was during that time that I started my own family and all was well until I got a call from my aunt one evening telling me my mom had been admitted to hospital after collapsing during a community-saving meeting. She was diagnosed with carcinoma, and the only fair news was that it was still at an early stage and could be stopped from spreading to other parts of her body. The doctor informed us that my mother was experiencing heart failure. That’s why she had collapsed. I knew that very day that this was a turning point in all of our lives.

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A victim in the crosshairs

I am 22 years old and I am writing this letter so that you don’t accept the deals traffickers are giving me.

Before coming to Hong Kong, my situation was always complicated because I had difficulty finding work, as the pandemic had severely affected the job market.

I worked selling clothes in the mornings and as a waitress in pizzerias to help my father, who suffered from heart problems and needed urgent surgery. What I earned wasn’t enough to pay for medical appointments, tests, or medications. I had to drop out of school to help with the living expenses.

.…every time I called I heard my dad crying and saying he didn’t want to die.

I worked from the age of 14 to support my education and help my father, since we only had each other. Over time, the treatments weren’t working, and he was hospitalized several times. I had to figure out what to do to keep my job, take care of my father, and get money for his medical expenses. We had withdrawn money from the bank to pay off our debts. I started working double shifts at night, working overtime and going to work in the mornings, doing housework, and looking for any other job to earn more, even though it meant not being able to rest or spend time with my father, whose health was deteriorating as the months went by.

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A business of the worst kind

I am a citizen of Namibia, born in 1974. What is happening to me in my life is very painful, and I find myself in a difficult situation. Problems often come at the same time in our lives, and I am facing significant challenges.

When my firstborn finished grade 12, the next step was to attend the University of Namibia. As his father, I wanted to pay for his education, but I didn’t have the money at that time. I called my son and promised him that I would find a way to support him next year.

One day, while I was traveling to Angola, I received a phone call from a friend at the border between Namibia and Angola. He said he was looking for me and asked me to call him back when I returned because he had something to discuss. I agreed.

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If I could rewind time

I’m 27 years old, and I’m from India. I am married and have three beautiful children. My middle child is a boy, 2 years old, and the rest are girls. The oldest is only 5 years old, and the youngest is under 1 year and still breastfeeding.

I grew up in a poor family and have only one brother who is physically handicapped; he cannot walk and needs to use a wheelchair to move around. My father left us 8 years ago before I got married, and my mother has taken care of us since then. My life has been a struggle since my parents divorced, and because of that, I had to drop my education to take care of my mother and older brother. I hadn’t had time to finish my graduation, and as a result, I was unable to find a good enough job to sustain my family.

After going through many hard times to earn money, time passed, and I got married when I was 22. After having 3 kids, I moved to Delhi, trying to find a better job.

But nothing turned out the way I expected.

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Drugs’ dark path

This is my story, and I want to share it with the readers.
Growing up was tough. There was no money to support me, and life was hard. My parents tried their best but struggled to provide, and eventually, they passed away. My mother died in 2014, and my father in 2020. After that, my life wasn’t good, and I couldn’t finish school.

That’s when I started having issues at school; it became stricter, and it became hard for me to continue. I started feeling like giving up on my dreams. I felt overwhelmed and hopeless. Because of a lack of money, I couldn’t achieve the dreams that were deeply rooted in me. I felt trapped and without options.

Even though I tried, it was difficult to continue, so I began hanging around people who were into drugs and other bad influences. I started using drugs, and that’s when I got involved in selling drugs to try and pay for school and to support myself and my younger siblings. The lack of money led me down a dark path, and it became really hard to escape from it.

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A shocking deception

I’m Ugandan by nationality and 40 years old. I’m a father of three precious children, living in Uganda with my wife. I was arrested in January 2023 at Hong Kong Airport by customs officials after they found dangerous drugs on my clothing during a search. I was charged with trafficking in dangerous drugs in a Hong Kong court after realizing that it was illegal. I am writing this letter to appeal to all people, friends, and relatives: please don’t be influenced by friends or social media to get involved in dangerous drugs.

I was born and raised in a family that was full of poverty. Because of this, I was forced to struggle a lot to take care of myself and my younger siblings, as I am the fifth of eleven children. My parents were poor and couldn’t afford to educate me or my older brothers. I suffered a lot to help my parents care for and educate my siblings, and it was my dream to work hard to educate my children to the level they want, which I have failed to attain.

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Hustling to survive

This is my story on how I was lured into smuggling dangerous drugs into Hong Kong.

I am a father of three children (two boys and a girl), married to a beautiful wife who suffers from dementia. I have been living in Nairobi, hustling here and there to make ends meet. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I lost my job. Even though I didn’t earn much, it did help me pay for my children’s school fees, house rent, and daily living. My wife is a “housewife” who suffers from dementia from time to time. I was also taking care of my younger brother who was suffering from meningitis and his medication proved to be costly.

No matter how hard I tried to hustle, expenses were adding up, especially my brother’s medication. This was a big burden for me and I was slowly losing focus and became mentally drained.

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The glass between us

When I was 25 years old, I was arrested for trafficking and remanded. Now I’m 28.

From my childhood, I was taken care of by my paternal grandmother, and I can say that we were a happy family. Once, my mother and paternal grandmother had an argument, and we moved out of her home. We lived temporarily with my maternal grandmother for two and a half years.

When I was nine years old, my dad needed to work in New Zealand, and my mum had to run a shop on the mainland. They left me and my younger brother with my maternal grandmother. At that time, she had to take a part-time job to support us. She was often tired when she came home, and many times, I took care of my younger brother and learned to behave well. I knew that my parents did not abandon us; they were simply trying to earn money and taught me the importance of it.

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One wrong move

I was arrested for trafficking in dangerous drugs in August 2022 and I have been in prison ever since.

I am a Hong Konger, born in the 1960s, and I am 63 years old this year. I grew up in a poor family of seven, living in an old housing estate with my brother, two sisters, and parents. There was no material wealth at that time, and my parents had very low educational levels. Even so, this did not affect their teachings. They were strict in disciplining us, and we were very obedient. My academic performance was average, and after graduating from Form 5, I started working with my father.

At that time, my father had a hardware foundry, and I worked in the factory from 1980 til 1996. However, the good times did not last forever, as many factories moved production to mainland China due to economic shifts, business slowed down. I took up a job as a waiter in a karaoke bar to make ends meet.

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