Author: nomasmulas

Freedom, how wonderful

The moment you become an inmate, you begin to recognize your mistakes and cherish your past life.

You realize that before committing any act, you need to think 150 times. “Is this necessary?”

You realize that there is no such thing as a hopeless situation. There is only one truly hopeless situation—when they are screwing the lid shut on your coffin. Everything else is SOLVABLE.

If you think your life is terrible—evaluate your surroundings. Tell me who your friend is, and I will tell you who you are.

Start reading. Change your worldview. Write down your thoughts. Learn new foreign languages for yourself. Forget the phrase “no time.” Forget it! There is plenty of time; you just don’t notice it or you waste it on nonsense. Establish a routine. Set an alarm with a terrible melody so you have to jump out of bed and turn it off immediately. Then you will get used to waking up at the same time.

Continue reading Freedom, how wonderful

The heavy burden of light decisions – PART 2

This is a second letter from a previous post

Three months have passed since my arrest, along with my beloved partner.

We are from Ukraine, and our family is there, where the war has been ongoing for over two years. I worry every day about my family, and about my little son. You never know which home a rocket will strike.

I find myself behind bars, without internet, a phone, or contact with my relatives.

I don’t know how to hold a pen in my hands.

I feel terrible when I see news about my country, but I cannot call my mother to find out if everything is okay. I was very worried about how my mother’s heart would react when she learned that her daughter and son-in-law were deprived of freedom due to their own foolishness. I am scared that something might happen to them and I won’t find out.

Or that I will find out, but too late.

Continue reading The heavy burden of light decisions – PART 2

The heavy burden of light decisions – PART 1

In 2019, we moved to Poland for work because we couldn’t find employment in our small town in the Odesa region of Ukraine. Our initial six-month visa expired just as the coronavirus pandemic began, but we were given special documents that allowed us to stay. We later applied for the Karta Pobytu (residence permit).

On February 22, 2022, we received our residence cards and planned a trip home to see our family, especially our son. Two days later, February 24, 2022, the war in Ukraine began.

Our family was strongly against us returning due to the Russian invasion. My mother assured us they were safe and our town was protected. We decided to stay and work, believing the war wouldn’t reach them. We mainly worked in large warehouses and factories. Our income covered rent, food, and utilities, and we managed to send some money home, though not as often as we wished.

Our major mistake was not knowing how to save. Whenever life brought a problem—a sudden toothache, a broken car, delayed wages, or reduced work hours—we ran into financial trouble. Over four years in Poland, we accumulated significant debt. We managed to make payments, but the burden was heavy. Every winter brought problems, preventing us from celebrating my December birthday, the New Year, and even my partner’s birthday. We realized that money was the solution to all our issues.

Continue reading The heavy burden of light decisions – PART 1

Sweet invitation from a bitter destiny

Hello, I am 30 years old, from Manaus, Amazonas, Brazil. Through this letter, I want to share the way I was recruited.

I was in the center of my city after visiting a client when a man approached me. He complimented me and started a conversation. He asked about my life—my children, my work. I told him I used to sell meals but stopped, and that I also worked as a prostitute.

He asked how much I would charge. I said 150 reais for one hour. Then he said, “I have a better job for you, where you’ll earn much more.”

At first I thought it would be something to do with prostitution, but I was wrong. He said it was easy and that everything would be alright; I just had to do everything he told me to do.

He offered me $5,000 USD—about 30,000 reais—to carry drugs on a trip.

Desperate for money to restart my business, furnish my daughter’s room, and help my mother pay debts, I accepted. He took my information and told me to bring my passport the next day.

The following day, he gave me an envelope with travel documents and 300 reais. He warned me not to fail, saying my family would be at risk. I promised I wouldn’t.

Continue reading Sweet invitation from a bitter destiny

A reckless game

I am 21 this year. I was born in mainland China and came to Hong Kong with my mother in 2018, when I started Form 1. Due to cultural differences and being a transfer student, I struggled academically and socially. With my mother working long hours, I spent my time at billiard halls and game centers. I dropped out after two months and began hanging out with friends I met outside school.

I was skilled at billiards and spent most of my time at the hall, where I met older friends who treated me well. My daily expenses came from the HK$100 my mother left me each morning before her 12-hour cleaning shifts. Before leaving each day, she would always tell me, “If you can’t study well, then just find a proper job. Don’t keep wandering outside with bad people who’ll lead you astray!” But I treated those words like noise in the background, thinking, “How could I possibly run into bad people?”

Continue reading A reckless game

Time is priceless

I have been imprisoned in a correctional facility after being arrested in December 2022 for the offence of trafficking dangerous drugs.

During this time, I happened to learn about this anti-drug campaign and realized that it could help warn others not to get involved in drug trafficking or suffer its consequences like me. That is why I chose to participate in this meaningful program.

When I was 13 years old and had just entered my first year of secondary school, I came into contact with drugs because of bad company. At first, I only used them occasionally, but because of the drugs I later lost interest in studying and became rebellious. At 18, I was sent to a rehabilitation center for drug possession, and since then, I have been in and out of prison countless times. I had no idea how or why my life had become such a mess. I couldn’t escape the temptation of drugs, and I have already lost so much because of them.

Continue reading Time is priceless

Passed around like a ball

When I was still a baby, I was abandoned by my parents and left alone at home until an auntie and the police broke in and rescued me. After that, my life became a story of being passed around like a ball from one relative to another. One relative would look after me for a while, then another, with no stable home.

When I was very young, I already heard a lot of cold remarks and criticisms about my parents, saying my parents were drug addicts, triad members, and bad people.

Later, some relatives even spoke badly about my grandmother, saying she gave birth to my mother just to serve others, and now she has another grandchild who is “handless and footless” (a derogatory way to describe helplessness). I remember from age four to eight when my grandmother looked after me: my grandfather was a film lighting technician and was often out of the house for long periods. My grandmother worked in the costume department of a TV station from 10am to 10pm, so I went to kindergarten on my own by taking the school bus downstairs and came home by myself. When I got home, my grandmother would leave food on the table before going to work. This was my life until I was eight years old, when grandmother sent me over to my great-aunt, who lived in a different district, so I also changed schools.

Things improved a bit then because my great-aunt had many children who could help me with homework, but it was still hard because before that, no one cared if I did homework, tests, or dictation, so my grades were always poor, and I was unmotivated to learn. A year later, halfway my Primary 4 year, I moved into a children’s home and stayed there until Secondary 2.

One day, after school, when I came back to the home, I saw my grandparents, a woman, and a man. The woman was my mother, and the man was my stepfather. They said there was a special meeting because they wanted to take me to live with them. Of course, I was willing – it was so new and exciting! Wow! I finally had a mom and a dad.

Continue reading Passed around like a ball

Drugs, prostitution and trafficking – my life since I was 12 years old

I am imprisoned in Hong Kong for drug trafficking.

From a very young age I have faced many difficulties. My mother is an alcoholic and because of that I was raised in a home where there was no peace.

Without a father figure, I started facing problems. At school, I always had issues with other students. I was a very rebellious teenager but had good grades. I had friendships that introduced me to drugs, and I started using cocaine when I was just 11 years old.

With no one to intervene, I continued down that path and started selling drugs. I started dating a man who encouraged me to run away from home and taught me how to use other types of drugs like heroin, and at 12 years old, I had my first overdose. My  boyfriend took me to the hospital and abandoned me there alone, because I was under 18 and hospitalized for an overdose—the responsible adult with me would be held legally accountable. To not take this responsibility, he left me alone at the hospital.

Weak and without strength to defend myself, he beat and raped me, stole all my money and threw me out of the house, dressed only in underwear and a bra.

Continue reading Drugs, prostitution and trafficking – my life since I was 12 years old

Recruited to my doom

I am charged with manufacturing dangerous drugs, involving a cocaine case with about 1,600 grams. It was only after my arrest that I realized the seriousness of the situation. Drug offenses have sentencing guidelines, depending on the type and amount of drugs involved. For cocaine, the relevant range is between 1,200 grams to 4,000 grams, carrying a sentence of 23 to 26 years in prison!

So far, I have spent about two years in prison, and every day I feel very sad—my emotions are mixed with remorse, self-blame, and fear… especially after consecutively losing my closest family members, my father-in-law and my dad! I couldn’t even see them one last time!

One day, I saw an online recruitment ad “Quick money, no experience or education required”, and everything started from me clicking on that ad.

Continue reading Recruited to my doom

From lunchbox seller to drug mule

I’m 38 years old and a mother of four children, one of whom passed away on August 11th.

My children’s father passed away on July 25th, 2023. After he passed away, everything became very difficult for me. I used to work selling lunch boxes, but after that, I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t pay rent or pay for electricity or water. I had to move back in to live with my mother because I could no longer pay the bills.

.…but as soon as I arrived in São Paulo, I wanted to get out, but the bosses wouldn’t let me. I was forced to swallow the drugs but I felt sick and couldn’t swallow any more, so instead I was made to carry the rest in my vagina.

Continue reading From lunchbox seller to drug mule

My life unravelled

I was arrested on September 4, 2023 for drug possession. My life began to unravel in 2016 when I gave birth to twins, but their father went to prison shortly after. 2017 was the hardest year, as my mother was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. Between 2018 and 2019, after undergoing colon removal surgery, her condition stabilised but my ex-boyfriend got arrested again in 2019 and since then, my parents and I were jointly taking care of my children.

My family background has been difficult. My dad retired from his civil service job 15 years ago. My mom worked part-time as a restaurant waitress. Since both parents worked, my two sisters and I lived at our grandmother’s house. My elder sister took her own life in 2009 due to emotional struggles, causing deep pain to our family. My father also once attempted suicide but survived. To help support my family, I left school after Form 3, which I now regret. I believe staying in school might have kept me from getting involved with drugs.

Continue reading My life unravelled

Imprisoned in a distant land

Being detained in a foreign country has been very difficult for me and makes me very sad because I unable to do much since I do not understand the language. Most people here speak Cantonese, which I cannot speak or understand. My English is also non-existent, which makes it very hard for me. Sometimes when I want to explain something, I cannot communicate directly and I have to call the consulate for them to help me explain to the people in prison. This makes communication very difficult.

The separation from my family weighs heavily on me each day, particularly missing my beloved grandchildren. Communication is painfully slow—letters take 5-6 months to reach them and another 5-6 months for replies to return. Phone calls are restricted to once monthly, lasting just 10 minutes—barely enough time to connect with even one of my 13 children, forcing me to rotate which child I speak with each month. My 22 grandchildren remain virtually unreachable, as I have no direct means to contact them. I do write to my family every day, however it takes too long before my family can get the letter.

Continue reading Imprisoned in a distant land

Used. Left behind. A voice from Prison.

A letter from a father, someone’s son, a fiancé, a brother to warn others.

I’m writing from prison. Not to ask for sympathy – but to stop you from making the same mistake I did.

I came from a humble background. Like many, I was just trying to survive and to take care of my four children. I was living in the backyard of a small bachelor’s apartment, working hard to stay out of trouble and keep us going.

One day the owner of the property introduced me to the new owner of the property. That same man seemed successful. He offered help and a better future. Things moved quickly and before I knew it, I was involved in something I couldn’t walk away from.

Continue reading Used. Left behind. A voice from Prison.

Freedom is just a distant memory

I am writing to you from a place where “freedom is just a distant memory.” I’ve lost count of the days, weeks, months, and years that have passed since I was taken away from my loved ones in South Africa.

I was promised a job opportunity in Brazil, and now I’m paying the price. I’m trapped in a prison, thousands of miles away from my family and loved ones in Hong Kong. My children are growing up without me, and my fiancée is shouldering the burden of caring for them alone.

I’m allowed only one phone call a month for ten minutes and can only communicate through letters. I’ve missed countless milestones, birthdays, and special moments. The pain of being separated from my loved ones, and knowing that I will not be able to see them for years—and if I see them and no one has passed away in the time I’m away in prison—is unbearable all the time.

Continue reading Freedom is just a distant memory