TAIF'S STORY
Assalamu Alaikum,
I am Taif (a pseudonym).
I was a talented football player from a young age, playing for various clubs. My dream was to represent the national team—one day, the world would admire my footwork like Maradona’s. In 1997, after winning a club championship, I tried drugs for the first time during the celebration. Nothing significant happened at first, but gradually, I drifted away from football. I played, earned money, and spent it on drugs—life was carefree.
Then, during a match in Feni, I suffered a severe injury. The doctors said my career was over. But instead of feeling devastated, my only concern was, “How will I afford drugs now?”
Life went on. My addiction worsened. We were six siblings, and I often took extra money from them while in university. My father ran a business, and our family owned properties. When my family was abroad, I collected rent from our tenants and spent it all on drugs. Injection marks covered my arms.
Eventually, my family realized everything and cut me off financially. Desperate, I rented a slum room in Agargaon for 600 taka a month just to stay close to drugs. One day, my father tracked me down, put me in the car, and took me home. He arranged to send me to Singapore, hoping I would change.
But a millstone doesn’t stop grinding just because it’s in heaven. Even in Singapore, I drowned in addiction. But guilt crept in. I called home, crying, begging to return. My father brought me back, gave me 2 million taka to start a business, and got me married. But I hadn’t truly changed.
I treated my wife in ways no self-respecting person would tolerate. Eventually, she left. We separated. My father passed away soon after. I couldn’t handle it—I sank deeper into addiction.
When my elder brother admitted me to AMAR Home, I was furious. I threatened him and spent my time sabotaging my own recovery. I refused to learn anything. But on the last day, my brother brought my little daughter to visit me. She looked at me… but didn’t recognize me.
I had failed as a father.
In that moment, I made a promise—I had to recover. I had to.
At AMAR Home, there’s no re-entry. I focused, followed every step of the program with dedication.
Today, I am sober. And truly, what greater happiness could there be?