Pregnant at 14, imprisoned at 15, it took a sentence with no date of release for her to experience God

Lyana Gwee was home alone with her infant daughter when narcotics officers from CNB (Central Narcotics Bureau SG) raided her home. She was a 15-year-old teen mother at the time, living with her then-boyfriend.

The officers found “quite a bit of opium” in the rented terrace house. It was lunch time. For several hours after that, they laid in wait for Lyana’s boyfriend. By the time he returned, it was dark. Both were arrested.

“I was confused, lost. And I don’t remember being fearful. I didn’t think it was going to be that serious. No idea at all,” Lyana told Salt&Light.

When questioned, Lyana told the officers the drugs were hers. That moment would define her life for well over a decade, forever altering its course.

Life with opium

Lyana grew up surrounded by opium. Her mother’s friend, who lived with them, consumed opium; the drug was also openly used in her neighbourhood.

Lyana as a toddler.

“To me, old people take opium, sick people take opium. That was the mindset I grew up with,” she said.

Her relative was involved in the opium trade and she had “witnessed the entire process” of cooking opium and selling it. 

After she was arrested, her own mother disappeared. Lyana guessed that she must have gotten wind of the arrest and had gone into hiding to avoid being implicated.

“For a good number of years, I felt very betrayed. I couldn’t understand why my mum wasn’t there for me, why I had to face the consequences myself,” she told Salt&Light.

Lyana was found guilty of drug trafficking and sent to prison at The President’s Pleasure, a practice where underaged offenders convicted of capital offences are spared the death penalty but detained indefinitely.

“There was fear, confusion, but not too much thoughts back then. After the arrest, I was sent to a girls’ home.

“The people there told me, ‘You are underage. You will be released by the age of 18 or 21.’ I tried to believe them. So I was quite calm.

“But when I was sentenced, there was no absolute number of years before my release.”

An unplanned baby 

At the time of her arrest, Lyana had not been to school for a few years.

“From Primary 3, I played truant. I dropped out of school at the age of 12 before PSLE,” she said. “I didn’t enjoy school, but I didn’t mind studying.”

Her mother took it all in her stride, believing there was “no point forcing” Lyana to do something she did not want to do. Instead, she got Lyana to work in a coffeeshop that she owned.

It was while working there that Lyana met the boy who would later father her daughter. She was 13 and he was 16.

“He was my first boyfriend.”

Lyana (left) in primary school with her school friend. She dropped out of school before she had a chance to take her PSLE.

A year into their relationship, Lyana got pregnant. She was 24 weeks into her pregnancy before she went for a checkup. Abortion was out of the question by then.

“My mum and my sister had started asking: ‘Why are you looking so round these days?’ It was then that I noticed I never had my menses.

“I was lost. I thought: Am I ready for this? But I didn’t have a choice.”

Her boyfriend, who was arrested along with her during the CNB raid, was “quite chill” about it. Both he and Lyana were already earning their own keep.

He told her: “You just give birth and we just get on with our lives.”

When little Tiffany was born, everyone wanted Lyana to give the baby up for adoption. Lyana refused. Her mother stepped in as a guarantor, promising that the child would be well brought up.

Her mother had strong opinions about marriage, even though everyone else wanted the young couple to tie the knot in a simple ceremony.

“My mother said: ‘If you cannot give us a proper wedding, don’t think about getting married.’

“She was very traditional but also very independent. She told me: ’ You don’t have to get married. He will change and you will change.’

“Up till now, I never got married,” said Lyana.

Trapped by unforgiveness

A year later in 1995, both Lyana and her boyfriend were arrested and imprisoned.

For the first three years, Lyana was kept in a single cell. She believes it was because hers was a special sentence that she was not part of the general population. Apart from the weekly one-hour yard time and the books her family brought her, Lyana had nothing else to do but wrestle with her own thoughts, trying to come to terms with her new life.

“My mum would visit me most of the time and my sister-in-law or my sister would take turns. They would bring my daughter.

“My mum was always crying. She felt bad. I was angry. So I wasn’t very nice to her. There was a lot of frustration.

“I couldn’t understand why, when I loved her unconditionally, she couldn’t love me unconditionally. What did I mean to her? For many years, I had that question.

“As the years went by, I felt even more angry especially since there was no absolute date of release.”

“Lord, I am so broken”

During those years in isolation, Lyana was allowed counselling sessions in the religion she then professed.

But word got to her – through conversations shouted across cells – that being a Christian was better because Christian counsellors visited more regularly. This meant that she could get more time out of the cell.

So she asked to convert to Christianity, a request that took six months and several interviews with the prison superintendent to be approved. But what started as a ploy for selfish reasons became the way to freedom from the things that shackled her soul.

“After a year of attending Christian counselling, the Pastor who came to visit me and I were worshipping the Lord. There was this song about Jesus dying on the cross.

“It hit me very hard that Jesus died for my sins so that I can be redeemed. That particular day, I was crying very badly. That was when I encountered God.

“Despite betrayal from the world and from a mother who was supposed to love me, there is Jesus who loved me even more that He died so I can live a new life. I was broken that day.

“I came before the Lord and said, ‘Lord, I am so broken.’ There was lot of bitterness and unhappiness that I could not reconcile, that I could not understand.’”

Hope of a future

Shortly after becoming a Christian, Lyana was allowed to stay in a cell with other inmates.

“It was better because there was more human interaction. I didn’t have to talk to myself anymore.”

That was how she learnt that she could pursue education behind bars.

“After I became a Christian, there was a change. It was a heart condition, knowing that I am not alone, that God is going to journey with me no matter how long, no matter how hard.

“It was the comfort of knowing that I am not abandoned, I am not unloved. I held on to Jeremiah 29:11, the promise that God has a future for me. I am not going to be there forever.”

Bolstered by that hope, Lyana returned to her studies at 19. Within three years, she not only passed her PSLE, she earned her ‘O’ Level certificate as well. It took her another few years of studying on her own to earn a Diploma in Marketing in 2006.

“It was God at work. My education was sponsored by the church,” Lyana said.

But even as she progressed in academics, her life was at a standstill. There was no word of her release.

“Every year, every day I hoped that it would be the day I would get out. Yet God kept me well.”

Click here to read Part 2 of Lyana’s story.

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