Singapore, known for its strict laws, has a particularly harsh stance on drug offenses, with 33 crimes carrying the death penalty, including murder, terrorism, and drug trafficking. The country resumed executions in March 2022 after a pause of over two years, with 16 individuals executed since then, all for drug trafficking. The number of people currently on death row remains unknown.
Singapore’s drug laws are particularly severe when it comes to cannabis. Possession of just 500g can lead to a death sentence, while 15g of heroin, 30g of cocaine, and 250g of methamphetamine are also punishable by death. Even possessing 15g of cannabis is considered drug trafficking, with individuals found with less than that amount classified as users and sent to the Drug Rehabilitation Centre (DRC) instead of prison.
This article explores the harsh reality of Singapore’s drug laws through the personal story of Kim (not her real name), a casual cannabis user who used the drug for medical reasons during a difficult period in her life. Her experience highlights the potential consequences of even casual drug use in a country with such stringent regulations.
Kim, who used cannabis to cope with personal struggles, became a source for friends who also used the drug. While she never profited from supplying them, she was labeled a drug trafficker when one of her friends was caught with cannabis. The accusation left her facing a potential prison sentence ranging from 5 to 20 years.
“I was wracked with horror,” Kim shares. “To have charges of trafficking leveled at me? That was just overwhelming. I felt complete and utter fear of what was going to pan out for me.”
Kim’s story sheds light on the realities of Singapore’s drug rehabilitation system. While her friends, classified as consumers, were sent to the DRC, Kim faced a much graver consequence due to the drug trafficking charges. The DRC, operated by Singapore’s Prison Service, is described as a detention facility with austere conditions aimed at deterring drug use. The center is surrounded by barbed wire, monitored by a control room, and equipped with CCTV cameras to ensure discomfort for detainees. Even casual users are required to spend at least six months at the DRC, attending psychology courses for up to six hours daily.
Lau Kuan Mei, Deputy Director of the Correctional Rehabilitation Service, explains the DRC’s approach: “The aim is to motivate inmates to want to stay away from drugs, to renew their lives without them, and to address negative thinking regarding drugs.” However, despite job placement support and ongoing surveillance after release, approximately one-third of former drug users relapse.
The Transformative Justice Collective, an organization advocating against the death penalty, criticizes the DRC, calling it a form of mandatory detention that inflicts “humiliation” and “loss of liberties” on inmates. They argue that the system’s harsh practices create shame rather than addressing the underlying issues of addiction.
While the DRC’s approach has been criticized, some, including addiction specialist Dr. Muni Winslow, believe the country’s approach is evolving to view drug use as a health issue. Despite this, Kim faces the stark reality of a potential prison sentence, a significant portion of her life that she must come to terms with.
“Once I heard there was very little possibility of me not serving a sentence, I took some time,” Kim shares, “to mourn almost, for the period of my life I would lose. I think I’ve accepted prison on a deeper level. It just never gets easier as the day draws nearer.”
Kim’s story underscores the complex and often harsh reality of Singapore’s drug laws, leaving individuals like her grappling with the consequences of a system that prioritizes deterrence over rehabilitation. As the country continues to navigate its ‘war on drugs’, the question remains: is this system achieving its desired results, or is it simply inflicting trauma and hardship on those caught in its web?
