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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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An unwitting drug courier

I am a 29-year-old married woman with a 9-year-old daughter. In 2020, I moved to Hong Kong to work as a domestic helper, hoping to improve my family’s financial situation. Unfortunately, while here, I encountered serious financial problems.

A trusted friend borrowed my work contract and passport to use as loan collateral. When this friend disappeared, I was left responsible for the substantial debt. Since my documentation was used as collateral, I had no choice but to assume responsibility for repaying everything.

My employer eventually discovered my financial troubles when the bank sent a late payment notice to their address. This led to my termination. Finding a new employer proved extremely difficult due to the lengthy process, so I resorted to working illegally as a restaurant cleaner or dishwasher. However, these jobs paid too little to cover both my debt payments and living expenses.

While searching for additional income, I met a 35-year-old Indonesian who seemed helpful, initially offering me simple jobs collecting packages from post offices and other locations. When I confided  about my debt problems, my friend offered to help clear my debts. Desperate for assistance, I accepted the offer without properly considering the risks involved in this arrangement.

Instead of receiving what was promised, I ended up with regret. I am detained on charges of trafficking dangerous drugs.

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‘Gangster granny’ jailed for leading family gang dealing drugs worth £80m

A family-run organised crime group, orchestrated by a 65-year-old described by police as a “gangster granny”, has been sentenced for dealing drugs with a street value of £80m across the UK.

Deborah Mason, who had the moniker “Queen Bee”, and seven other members of the gang, were sentenced at Woolwich crown court in London on Friday for their involvement in supplying nearly a tonne of cocaine over seven months.

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The widening chasm

Allow me to share my story about how I got involved in dangerous drugs trafficking to Hong Kong.

I come from a family of four: my mother, father, younger sister, and me. In 2010, I lost my mother to a pulmonary disease, followed by my grandmother shortly after. I began to experience heartaches, sleepless nights, anxiety, and a feeling of emptiness. I went to the doctor, describing my symptoms, and was told I might have a brain tumor. After several tests, the doctor confirmed I was physically healthy but emotionally under extreme stress. I am still on medication for depression.

Determined to heal, I challenged myself to complete my college education while raising two children alone and working full-time. I developed an overwhelming urge to prove something to myself. Despite every reason to quit—lack of sleep, money, and resources—I earned my college degree. My plans were to graduate and find a good job, but life didn’t go as I hoped.

I felt sad yet empowered, knowing I had the fortitude to press on, especially for my daughter. I remember reading her congratulatory card: “Someday I hope to make you as proud of me as I am proud of you.” I was devastated, knowing my daughter needed a substantial amount of money to join high school.

“Someday I hope to make you as proud of me as I am proud of you.”

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A mother’s bitter tears

I am 44 years old and I have two children. I come from Benin.

I worked on a project for the Ministry of Health in my country as an Executive Assistant. I was arrested at Hong Kong airport on the morning of December 9, 2023 for drug trafficking. Here is my story:

I did not have an easy childhood. I come from a numerous family, with several children from different fathers. We are ten children and I am the eighth child. We grew up in very precarious conditions, our mother, having experienced several divorces, required us to help her every Saturday and Sunday, either by going to the fields to gather firewood or by selling small crops to bring money home for our breakfast and other needs until we finished primary school.

Once we entered secondary school, our mother could no longer support our educational expenses. Many of my older siblings had already dropped out of school. Most of my older sisters got married, while my older brothers were either in apprenticeships or had already finished their education. I loved studying, so if I were to continue secondary school, it would have to be by my own means.

I started a small business selling bottled water and sometimes boiled peanuts during holidays and weekends. This business, which usually lasted 3 to 4 months during school holidays, allowed me to save enough money for my tuition, supplies, and a little extra for breakfast.

I managed to get by until my first year of high school, when I met a man whom I considered to be well-off. After a while, this man proposed marriage. Saying no to this proposal would imply that I did not care for my younger sister and brother, who were almost neglected by our mother due to her financial struggles. Agreeing to this proposal meant marrying an older man, almost like a father figure, and also someone who was often away on business. My mother pressured me into saying yes.

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What gold can’t buy

I am a Guyanese national born in 1967. As a father of six children—four girls and two boys—I worked hard in construction to support my family. But getting work was getting more and more difficult.

So, I started gold mining for about ten years. With some of the money saved I bought a 4-inch dredge and employed two guys to work with me. Everything changed on February 19, 2015. It was a Thursday evening when I came out of the gold field with my production. Four guys attacked me. I tried to fight back, but one of them stabbed me in the back, and they took away all my production, about 125 ounces of gold.

I spent six months in the hospital and became wheelchair-bound.

…I was wearing diapers and using a catheter. With no parents alive and no inheritance, I resorted to begging on streets to support myself and my children.

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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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