But when she speaks today, her voice is steady, filled with hope not just for her own tomorrow but for every woman who has walked through the same darkness.

She remembers the first time she touched drugs. It was 2022, when her marriage was crumbling and her life felt unmoored.

With money coming in from selling drugs across Perak and Kelantan, it had seemed easy then – too easy.

“In those days, I didn’t think about anything: not God, not my parents, not even my children. I only wanted to be happy, to laugh and lose myself,” she said.

Of course, happiness built on illusion collapses quickly. For Nurul, the fall came when she was arrested by the National Anti-Drugs Agency (AADK) and sent to the Bachok Narcotics Addiction Rehabilitation Centre (Puspen) for two years.

There, she found more than walls and routine. There were skills to be learnt, classes to attend – cooking lessons, batik canting, religious talks – and the patience of those who believed she could still change.

“It was here that I first saw a glimmer of hope. The advice, the guidance, the encouragement … they gave me strength to face my family and to face society again,” she told Bernama.

Today, Nurul runs a small online business selling cosmetics. Beyond making money, it is proof that life can be rewritten after straying off the path.

Forr Nik Affezah Nik Abdul Ghani, the road back began in June 2020. Seventeen months in Bachok Puspen gave her time to heal, self reflect, and see her past with new eyes.

Today, she no longer speaks of her mistakes with shame but with resolve: the 45-year-old is now a peer support mentor at the very shelter that supported her.

The trials of her past, she said, are reminders that she has survived, and that stories of survival can be shared.

“I hope to encourage women who are struggling like I once did. Every time I tell my story, I want it to open their hearts and remind them that it is never too late to rise,” she said.

Change, of course, is never easy: the pull of old habits is strong, and the fear of falling again lingers. Yet Nik Affezah believes the presence of people who care, guide, and cheer you on – who refuse to give up on you – can tip the balance towards a brighter future.

“Nothing is impossible, but no one changes alone,” she added.

In another corner of Puspen, Farhana (not her real name) is still walking her path. At 32, she has three months left before she steps out into the world again.

She dreams of peace, love, and the embrace of her family. But she knows the hardest trial may not be the drugs themselves; the stigma, she fears, will be crueller than withdrawal.

She worries about the looks, the whispers, the prejudice. “Change cannot rest only on us. Society, too, must learn to see differently,” she said.

“Without acceptance, those of us trying to rebuild will remain trapped between our past and the world’s judgement.

“Don’t let drugs steal our dignity or our future. We deserve to be happy. We deserve respect. If I can rise again, so can other women like me. Our past should not decide who we are tomorrow.”

Asean’s role in protecting women

The AADK has recorded a steady increase in the number of women entangled in drug abuse, with 5,712 cases in 2022, rising to 6,318 in 2023, and 8,638 in 2024.

According to AADK treatment, medications and rehabilitation director Siti Mariam Mursidan, three factors often draw women into the downward spiral: peer pressure, curiosity, and the fleeting promise of pleasure.

For criminologist Haezreena Begum Abdul Hamid, the stories of women like Nurul, Nik Affezah and Farhana are not isolated: they are threads in a larger fabric that stretches across borders.

“In Southeast Asia, women are too often pulled into the underworld of drug trafficking – not because they are hardened criminals but because syndicates see them as invisible, less suspicious, easier to use.

“Many women are exploited; some are lured with promises of love or money, some are coerced by partners or family members, while others are simply trapped by desperation.”

Haezreena, a senior lecturer at Universiti Malaya’s Faculty of Law, said one answer lies in Asean member states, which could act more than just geographical neighbours.

She envisions a regional protocol, one that combines law reform, trauma-informed justice, and joint enforcement, while building socioeconomic resilience for border communities.

“Even our legal assumptions deserve scrutiny. For women who have been exploited, the presumption of possession or knowledge should be reconsidered. Justice must recognise intent or the lack of it,” she stressed.

Geostrategist Azmi Hassan agrees that the fight cannot stop at courtrooms or prison gates. “The battle begins in rural areas, villages, airports and border crossings; in the places where women live and where syndicates find them.

“Communities, especially women in rural and low-income areas, need to know how syndicates approach them, how they deceive them. Knowledge is protection,” he said.

Azmi also believes in healing. “Women who have fallen into addiction deserve rehabilitation that sees more than their crime; programmes that address trauma, provide psychological support, and open doors to jobs and skills.

“Asean nations can learn from one another by sharing best practices in rehabilitation and reintegration, because if society keeps punishing without healing, the cycle will only repeat,” he concluded.