Brief but unforgettable interactions with L, M, N, O and P

This incident happened in 2007, when I was in Maldives to gather data for some research work I am carrying out.

On this particular day, at dusk, I was waiting outside a clinic in Male’ hoping to hail a taxi on the street, as the Taxi Centres were not answering their phones.

Mr. L, a young man of about 25 years was standing next to me, completely zapped out of his mind. Since I showed no fear of him and did not hesitate to stand close to him, I immediately sensed his discomfort and soon he demonstrated this by taking out a penknife and running its sharp edge on his arm, it did not bother me and I stood there undeterred by his attempt to scare me.

He received a call and advised who-ever was on the phone to come to the spot where we were. Mr. L then called up some others of his group and asked them to come to that same spot.

Within minutes, two guys came on a bike and another two guys came running from the other side of the street. One of the guys who ran across the street had a steel chain hanging from his belt and I saw the knife the second guy carried.

The two guys on the bike stopped close to where I was standing and I saw Mr. L hand over a small packet to one of the guys and say; “Now c’mon … the money”. Few crisp Rf 500 notes were given to two of the guys who ran, I could not hear what they muttered but in their dazed state they handed it back to Mr.L saying “That’s ours too !”.
The guy nodded as the two on the bike drove away.

At this point I interfered by saying, “But that’s so little money for all that heroin”. Immediately Mr. L took out the penknife and pointing it towards me said, “Dhatha, bunan….. nubehey kanthaka nubehey”(let me tell ya sister, mind your own business).

I smiled and said, ‘but it’s my business, you three are so zapped you all did not even count that money properly’. By now the other two guys who looked like the real gangsters approached me and said, “Ey faadu faadah aharun na nubeheythi ingey”
( don't interfere with us..)
I stopped them then and said, “your kind don’t scare me at all, so don’t bother to put fear in me, infact I feel so sad for the three of you, I wish I could help you…I want to help you, you and you. You see no one is helping you, neither your parents nor society but I wish I could help all three of you, who are so high on heroin and don’t even know what you people are doing”.

Mr. L then said to me, “Dhatha a keetha eyn…aharun nubomey fatheh….”(it's none of your business sister, we don't use drugs').
I looked at him and said, “ Ya,…..you three better go in for your next dose soon because it is becoming very apparent that time is up….”

One of the guys at that moment said, “Wait… who are you, what are you doing here any way?”
I told them my name and said that I needed a taxi to get home. All three of them recognised me from my name but not my face, and looking at me Mr. L said, “I will get a taxi for you….”

At this point I asked them, who they were. They said the three were brothers, one had already been to the Rehab and the other two did not believe they can ever benefit from rehabilitation. The guy who had been to the Rehab said, “I slipped soon after….i cannot ever recover ….”

Mr. L stood in the middle of the road for minutes trying to stop a taxi but no one stopped.
He came back and said, “You see even they will not stop, they all know who we are”.

As I nodded he said to me, “Life has no meaning except to use….and use again…tell me, do people with this ever recover any where in the world?”

I nodded. The three of them were looking at me in a strange way as I answered.

“Yes, they do. If you decide and sincerely put an effort, there is a chance, because even in Maldives there are people who have recovered or are in the recovery process, you can volunteer to go for rehabilitation before you get a criminal record, please volunteer and go for rehabilitation”.

At that moment Mr. L said, “Give me your phone number.”

I waved for a Taxi to go home. Mr. L ran to open the door for me.

He seems to be asking me something…begging, pleading, but I did not know what he was asking me so…..I went away to the comfort of my home.
Three days after the incident, Mr. L called me and said, “I have volunteered to go to the Rehab, the other two are still on the streets…they did not wish to come……tell me again, can I recover?”

What could I say? That I know the relapse rate is very high, recovery is a process, I personally had reservations about the effectiveness of the existing drug rehabilitation model followed at DRC, but accept it because we do not have the resources to offer anything better….how could I tell him all this…..or any of it ?....”

Instead I heard myself say, “Take one day at a time…I am glad you decided on this”

He said, “I will meet you one day but not at a street corner selling drugs….but as a clean person………………”

I nodded in silence. I hope so. I hope Mr. L is moving ahead on the path of recovery.
But the images of this strange interaction which lasted for only about 15 minutes stay frozen in my mind.

I wonder where Mr. L is now. Did he go to the rehab? Did he move through the TC hierarchy with a mask or did he sincerely take part in the programme and take the benefit of whatever this intensive programme had to offer? What happened to his brothers? I don’t even know their names….but I cannot forget their helpless faces, pleading for some form of assistance from me and from anyone who could lift them up from the rut to which they have fallen into. (to be continued with M,N,O and P...)