Farida: "I Sought to Save My Son"

Farida (name changed), 46 years old, lives in a simple house on a quiet alley in Beau-Bassin. At first glance, nothing reveals the drama that has unfolded for months within those walls. However, behind them lies a nightmare for this mother: watching her only son, aged 19, spiral into synthetic drugs, a destructive powder that is ravaging Mauritian youth. "He started like every young person, wanting to be like his friends..." she laments.

Sitting on a plastic chair, her eyes red from fatigue, this woman recounts her story in a trembling voice. "I sought to save my son. I've done everything: I took him to the doctor, I sent him to a center, I went into debt to get him off drugs," she says.

Yashir (name changed) first came into contact with drugs at 16. He wasn't a bad kid—good student, football fan, and computer enthusiast, he dreamed of becoming a mechanic. "A friend told him to smoke a little cigarette to relax. When he came home, his eyes were red, he was vomiting," recalls his mother. Gradually, his behavior changed. The boy who used to bring laughter to their home became violent, unpredictable, and at times uncontrollable. "He started to become violent, breaking phones, throwing things. Once, he even raised a hand against me," she laments.

She pauses, unable to continue. Her eyes well up with tears. For two years, Yashir sank deeper into addiction. He lost all ambitions and harassed his parents for up to Rs 500 a day. "When I refused him, he would get angry and threaten me," she emphasizes, her voice breaking.

On October 18, everything changed. In a fit of madness, Yashir allegedly tried to force the kitchen door to get money. Terrified, Farida ran to the police station. "My heart was breaking. I couldn't believe I had to do this against my own son. But if I hadn't, I would have lost him completely," she states.

Yashir, under the influence of substances, was found wandering the streets of Chebel, talking to himself. He was taken to Jeetoo Hospital for treatment. "When I saw him, he had become thin, his hands were trembling. I cried," Farida confides. "My son has transformed. He's fallen into a hell from which no one can pull him out," she weeps, showing a photo of Yashir, her only son.

Synthetic Drugs on the Rise

According to figures from the Anti-Drug and Smuggling Unit (ADSU), cases of young people using synthetic drugs have exploded in the past two years. Over 1,200 arrests have been reported since January 2025, the majority involving individuals under 25.

The problem, explains an investigator who requested anonymity, is that synthetic drugs are sold everywhere "like sweets", sometimes for less than Rs 200 per dose. "We’ve found cases where young people share the same drugs with their friends. They think they are young and cool, but these substances completely destroy their minds. They become violent, commit crimes, and seek to rob their own homes," he explains.

The anti-drug brigade regularly conducts dismantling operations, but the fight remains tough. Traffickers constantly change their methods and use social media for recruitment and delivery.

A Daily Struggle for Families

For Farida, the battle doesn't end with the arrest: "He has come out of the hospital, but I live in fear. Every night, I see his face, unsure if he will return to normal. Sometimes he seems fine, then he gets angry. There are times he makes beautiful promises, 'Mom, I will stop', but the next day, he disappears."

Like Farida, countless families in Mauritius are crying out in despair. These mothers, fathers, and families are shattered by a cheap but deadly powder that circulates in schools, street corners, and buses.

A local social worker, Sheila, recounts: "We receive calls every day. Some parents are afraid their sons will come to take money and terrorize them; they prefer to stay home. There are mothers who are beaten by their children whom they raised themselves. They have no support and are suffering in silence."

In response to the surge in these tragedies, the police say they want to "strengthen human proximity". The National Drug Secretariat is working with several NGOs to create reintegration programs, but results are still awaited.

"I Pray for My Son Every Day..."

At the end of the interview, Farida wipes her tears. She keeps a picture of Yashir on her phone, taken before he fell into addiction: "When I see his face, I tell God: make him return to how he was before. I don’t want to see him in the yard or on the street."

Her plea resonates like that of many other Mauritian mothers who are fighting alone against an invisible beast. Because in Mauritius, drugs don’t just kill the young: they destroy families.