Eid ul Fitr

Always, but especially so this year, I am reminded during this joyous season of Eid ul Fitr of people who are far away from their loved ones. Not the sons and daughters who study abroad, fathers and mothers who work in foreign lands to make a living, but the people who have family members who are in prison, in lock-ups, detention or rehabilitation centres. While we phone and sms our friends and family members, telling them that we love them and think of them, the fathers and mothers who have a son in prison, the women and men who have a brother, sister or parent in rehab do not even mention the names of their loved ones to anybody. They are ashamed to do so.

Visiting the family of a close friend on the first day of Raya, nobody asks the father where Aladdin (not his real name) is. He has been an addict for the last 15 years, in and out of Pusat Serentis (rehabilitation centres), and in and out of prisons. None of the visitors know whether Aladdin is in prison or rehab. Nobody dares to ask, as nobody wants to embarrass the family. So later, at the house of an uncle of Aladdin, we ask. “Dia ambil khursus” (He is attending a course), is the laconic answer. “Where”, we ask. The uncle did not know.

I know that it is very bitter for the family that the only son is a drug addict. But if they do not support his recovery, how is Aladdin going to make it? If we just leave him alone in rehab or prison, how is he going to recover? Pusat Serentis’ failure rate is tremendous – less than 10% of ‘rehabilitated’ drug users stay off drugs permanently (see: http://www.med.cmu.ac.th/dept/psychiatry/AJP-2/Microsoft%20Word%20-%20064070_Gill070910.pdf), and prison sentences are for punishment, not rehabilitation.

I have known Aladdin since he was born. His mother was a close friend, and the family were our neighbors for many years, until they moved away. He used to come to my house to play with my children. He is like family to me.

Family members of rehab or prison inmates suffer in silence. They feel as shunned as the prisoners themselves. How did Aladdin become addicted? We do not really know the details. All I know is that when he was in his late teens, his mother died of a serious illness. As she had been a government servant, the family got quite a lot of money from insurance. Aladdin and his three younger sisters got around RM 25,000 each. The two teenaged sisters put the money in the bank and used it later for setting up their own families, the youngest was just a small child and her money was kept safe by the father. But Aladdin, who is the eldest, insisted on being in charge and managing his own money.

First he bought a car. Then he started to hang out with all kinds of new ‘friends’. He lost his job and his fiancé. About then we heard that he was addicted to drugs. He sold his car. He had used all money on drugs in a short while. He visited our house, and my husband’s new expensive leather shoes and my ‘good’ walking shoes disappeared. Right after that he ‘took his first course’.

Today we have lost count of all the ‘courses’ Aladdin has taken over the years. But going to visit his father’s house yesterday made me realize how sad it is for the family for not having Aladdin there with them to celebrate Hari Raya. And how deafening and artificial the silence is regarding Aladdin. A presence through absence!

Why do we not speak openly about him? I don’t really know. But I am determined to find out where he is and to visit him, as soon as I can. We cannot bring his father with us, he is bedridden. But maybe we can get one of the sisters to come with us. Maybe with renewed family ties Aladdin can find new strength to fight his addiction better?

On this day of forgiveness, I feel the pain of the loss these families have to endure, and I wish to make a commitment to help and support mending and reinforcing broken family ties in whatever way I can.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri everyone.
Maaf, zahir, batin.