'This is what you get for leaving me': The difficulty of rebuilding relationships after a parent goes to prison

Repairing a relationship with a child or family member after years in prison is rarely simple. CNA TODAY spoke to current inmates and ex-offenders on the uphill – often years-long – process of returning to family life.

When Ms Samsiah Samsudin was first arrested, the youngest of her four children was just eight months old.

Now 49 and working as a driver transporting passengers for a logistics company, she recalled her foremost concern then: "I was very worried. I knew my husband could not look after the children."

She said her now ex-husband had been abusive throughout their marriage, and although she had asked her parents for help, her relationship with her siblings and family "wasn't strong".** **

In the end, her children remained largely in the care of her ex-husband, with some support from her family. At first, he took them to visit her, but stopped about three years into her five-year sentence for a drug-related offence.

Even though a social service agency helped to coordinate visits with her family, her once-close relationship with her children fractured.

Reconnecting with her third son upon her release in 2019 was particularly hard. He was just 11 when she entered prison and nearly 17 when she was released.

"He was already a teenager, so he tended to rebel. When I tried to talk to him, he kept saying I lied to him, I left him – so it's quite painful," Ms Samsiah said, her voice choking with emotion.

"If I made a little mistake, he would say things like, 'This is what you get for leaving me'."

Since her release, Ms Samsiah has received support from several social service agencies, most recently being connected with the Women In Recovery Association (WIRA), a charity assisting female drug ex-offenders in their rehabilitation journey.

Through its Procare befriending programme and support group, she learnt to better manage conflicts with her son and regain her confidence as a mother.

For parents such as Ms Samsiah, working on staying in touch with family and restoring relationships – especially with their children – can be difficult during imprisonment.

And the pain and reconciliation does not end there.

Even after their release, rebuilding trust with their families can be a trying, long-drawn process, complicated by the years of separation that have altered their roles and relationships.

Experts who have worked with ex-offenders said that a family member's imprisonment can destabilise a household in many ways.

These include the financial strain of losing a breadwinner, coping with complex feelings of anger, shame and disappointment towards a loved one, and the social stigma that leads some families to withdraw from their communities.

Some families also expect ex-offenders to fall back into their old roles immediately after release.

Others simply are not ready to reconnect, however genuine the efforts are by the ex-offenders to make amends.

THE EFFORT TO KEEP FAMILIES TOGETHER

For inmates hoping to remain close to their children, their willingness to stay connected can run up against practical limits.

Inmates are allowed to write not more than four e-letters each month – with just one face-to-face visit a month for those serving prison sentences and those in drug rehabilitation centres.

Mr Roy Leng, the head of Allkin Restorative Service, said that even a shorter jail term may coincide with a significant period of a child's development.

For example, there may be changes in how they communicate, which can then be difficult for parents to play catch-up.

Allkin Restorative Service is a support programme for individuals and families affected by incarceration, under the social service agency Allkin Singapore.

For 45-year-old Daniel (not his real name), who spoke on condition of anonymity, what hurts is missing out on his four-year-old daughter's milestones.

He was sentenced when she was a newborn and is expected to be released in August after being in jail since 2023 for drug-related offences.

"I was not there when she took her first steps," he said. "Doesn't matter if it's playing with her at home, accompanying her at the playground or sending her to school – I want to be present. I've so much lost time to make up for."

When Mr Mohamed Aladin Saad, 43, entered prison for the third time, his fiancee was three months' pregnant.

He struggled to express his remorse and support to his partner through the e-letter and visit limits, but he remembered how uplifted he felt when he was allowed one open visit.

Open visits are a special type of supervised visit that allows inmates to interact with their families without a physical barrier.

Mr Aladin, who was recently released in June, said: "I still remember, I could touch my partner's big tummy, then my baby girl kicked me. That was very touching."

Even when he was serving the last six months of his one-year sentence under a community programme, Mr Aladin had limited time to see his daughter, since he was staying at a halfway house and had an 8pm curfew.

He credited his fiancee for her support, because she would travel from her home near Sembawang to Changi to have dinner with him and let him meet his daughter in the brief hours that he had after work.

"It's all about the family support. Honestly, I've seen many people without family members, without the right circle of friends, who landed back into prison again," Mr Aladin said.

He added that he used to be close to his four children from a previous marriage, but his relationship with them drifted after his divorce in 2018, which was partly why he went back to his old ways.

Now working as a housekeeper and living in a shelter, he hopes to be able to mend his relationship with them when his situation is "more stable".

"I would like to be a loving, supportive father for all my children, but I myself have to stand up on my feet.

"I'm going for courses, so I can have a good income, so I can be there for my children. It's my goal."

For many inmates and ex-offenders, the challenge of staying connected with their children runs deeper than finding ways to stay in contact.

They find it hard to express their emotions, feel despondent or lack confidence that they can be a good parent.

Ms Haryana Mohammad, president of WIRA, said that many imprisoned mothers, for example, also struggle with guilt for being absent, especially when most of them were the family's main caregiver.

"When their children run away from home, or get in trouble at school, they feel very helpless and guilty, because they feel like, 'It's my fault, I'm not there for my children, that's why they're like that'."

WIRA helps ex-offenders re-examine their identity and role as a mother, regulate their emotions, communicate with children, and manage conflict with caregivers as part of its 10-week Empowering Mothers programme.

On its part, SPS works with community partners to try and support inmates through programmes within prisons, where parents can join support group circles and take part in activities, such as recording stories to share with their children or sharing their emotions through guided writing activities.

To celebrate Father's Day in June, a small group of fathers in prison watched videos messages from their families and received handwritten cards from their children.

At the session in a meeting room attended by CNA TODAY, the inmates talked about how they felt after seeing their children's messages, how they hoped to improve as fathers, and drafted detailed responses to their children to be saved for an e-letter.

For some of them, this process led to breakthroughs that were years in the making.

Before this year, 46-year-old Sam (not his real name), who has been in jail since 2022, had barely interacted with his now 14-year-old daughter.

His ex-wife gave birth to their daughter while she was serving a prison sentence. herself. Having much of his daughter's childhood in and out of prison himself, Sam had not been part of her life since she was a toddler.

Speaking on condition of anonymity, he reflected: "We always (focused on) our needs, rather than hers. I forgot my task as a father. Now, I realise my mistakes. I want to be a responsible father to her."

Sam never expected to be watching a Father's Day video from his daughter.

Building this fragile relationship with her started last year when the Centre for Fathering and SPS encouraged him to reach out to her as part of the Fathering Circle programme, a peer-led support group where fathers in prison reflect on their role as parents and learn practical parenting skills.

Himself adopted as a child, Sam initially had a strained relationship with his family. The death of his adoptive father while he was imprisoned became a turning point and made him reflect on his lack of a relationship with his daughter.

"I want to be a good father to her. I really miss her so much. Fourteen years, I lost contact with her, then this miracle happened through this Fathering Circle. I feel very blessed."

Sam has since become a peer facilitator for the group. Now, he looks forward to occasions such as Children's Day and his daughter's birthday and regularly keeps in touch with her through e-letters and visits.

With about three years left on his sentence, he hopes to fulfil the dream she shared in her video – to one day travel to Japan as a family for a holiday.

PROVING THEY HAVE CHANGED

The effects of imprisonment are felt beyond the immediate family. Relationships with siblings, parents and relatives can also suffer – ties that the experts said are just as crucial to an ex-offender's reintegration.

Such was the case for Mr Mazlan Samihon, 57, whose ties with his siblings was all but severed after he was imprisoned 11 times, mostly on drug-related offences.

"When they got married, I wasn't around, " he said. "And from 1991 to 2001, every Hari Raya, I was not around.

"So they said they felt like I'm not part of the family."

Through the years, it was his parents who maintained close contact and showed support for him. He recalled how his mother, who died during his last stint in prison, used to cook his favourite sambal goreng (vegetable dish cooked in chilli paste) each time he was released.

So frayed was his relationship with his siblings that they did not welcome his visit on Hari Raya Haji when he was first released from prison in 2013.

"I was released on Hari Raya Haji eve. So the next day, I called my sister saying I want to visit; she didn't let me."

He ended up spending the holiday alone at a coffee shop before returning to a men's shelter at Sembawang.

"I didn't know where else to go," he said.

Even when his sister eventually allowed him to visit a few months later, he recalled being received with some suspicion.

"When I was at the gate and they saw me, their immediate reaction was to keep the handphones on the coffee table," he said.

"And I thought, 'I've never taken anything from you before'. But I wasn't sulking or slighted. I know I need time to prove myself and gain their trust."

And proved himself he eventually did.

Despite the unpleasant first visit, Mr Mazlan persisted in visiting his sister monthly. He also found a full-time job, and after a year out of prison, he got married and started a family of his own.

Seeing his sincerity in both wanting to mend their relationship and rebuild his own life, his siblings eventually embraced him and his family. Mr Mazlan now describes their relationship as "closer" than before.

Experts who work with ex-offenders said that with opportunities for communication already limited, some families are also unable or unwilling to visit or communicate with their imprisoned family members due to frustration and disappointment.

Others may be preoccupied with new routines and commitments while adapting to the person's absence.

The Singapore After-Care Association (SACA), a social service agency providing welfare and rehabilitation services for ex-offenders and their families, said that some family members may also be less tech-savvy or have medical conditions that hinder their ability to visit or write e-letters.

In cases where family members themselves are victims of the person's offending, the priority is establishing safety for the victim, while both sides work towards reconciliation.

Ms Danielle Gomes, a senior executive in family policy at SPS' Rehabilitation and Reintegration Division, said: "Not every family is ready yet for reconnection. There are still families who need a bit more time or more healing conversations before connection can be re-established."

Even when families may be keen to reconnect, they may have different expectations on how to rebuild family life.

Mr Leng from Allkin Singapore said that some ex-offenders may not realise that family roles have changed during their time in prison.

Spouses and children often have to take on new responsibilities, and those changes do not simply disappear when that person returns home.

At the same time, ex-offenders may face pressure to assume the roles of breadwinner and caretaker upon their return, while balancing their own recovery from addictions, readjusting to life in the community and feeling financial stress to find a job.

Even after the practical adjustments and reconnection, emotional wounds take longer to heal. Trust cannot be rebuilt overnight.

A representative from SACA said: "Formerly incarcerated family members may be hoping that when they start making amends and demonstrate their change, the trust may come sooner than expected.

"But for some family members, it's once bitten twice shy."

Such was the common experience from ex-offenders who spoke to CNA TODAY, including Mr Marcus, who was imprisoned six times and was last released in 2020.

The 52-year-old, who wanted to be known only by his first name, said that he was his mother's favourite child growing up, but after multiple stints in jail for offences related to drugs and fights, she viewed him with scepticism and distrust.

"When I went out at night, she would think I'd be involved in illicit vices, or back in the company of bad people," he said, though he acknowledged that this may partly stem from a sense of concern.

Things changed when he pursued a diploma in psychology after his release.

"Sometimes, my mum sees me spending half the day studying, then taking Zoom classes ... when she saw that, she knew that I'm putting in effort to upgrade myself," he said.

"They (my family) began to trust me more, after they saw my determination through my actions."

EARLY SUPPORT, BREAKING THE CYCLE

For Mr Andrew Ong, now 48, rebuilding a relationship with his own family was a slow process that took almost 10 years.

His parents' divorce during his teenage years, and the limited support he received, drew him towards gangs and landed him in jail twice. He first went into prison for nine months for rioting at 18 years old.

"There was a lot of blame and resentment carried over the years, but when I wanted to change my life, I realised I could not blame (my parents) or anyone for my circumstances.

"I decided to take more responsibility and ownership for my own life," he said on his decision to reconcile with his parents.

Today, Mr Ong is the deputy head of HCSA Highpoint, a halfway house and residential shelter for male ex-offenders. He co-founded Break the Cycle, a ground-up movement using cycling to support ex-offenders' re-integration.

He pointed out that a wider ecosystem of support – including organisations such as HCSA, which act as a "quasi-family" – are crucial to support ex-offenders who may not have strong family support now.

Employers, colleagues and the general public all play a part in helping ex-offenders rebuild their lives.

However, bridging the divide between ex-offenders and their children, as well as the immediate families, remains just as important and will go a long way in benefiting them and society at large.

Stronger familial bonds are proven to help reduce the risk of ex-offenders committing crimes again. Just as importantly, it also provides a more stable environment for their children, the experts said.

Ms Nurul'Ain Ahmad, a case worker with Yellow Ribbon Cares, noted that children with parents in prison are statistically at higher risk of committing offences themselves.

The charity supports ex-offenders and their families through case management and targeted programmes.

"By having a strong support system within the families, we hope that it can help to break the cycle of intergenerational offending," Ms Nurul'Ain said.

Over time, SPS has shifted reintegration efforts to the early stages of an inmate's sentence, usually involving families in the first few months of admission, rather than towards the end of their sentence, Ms Gomes said.

Over at Yellow Ribbon Cares, one notable initiative it started this year with about 10 families is Project Reunite, where inmates are given more televisit benefits to mark their children's milestones, such birthdays and when examination results are announced.

Ms Nurul'Ain said: "This allows the incarcerated parent to remain actively involved in the children's lives and encourage the children to progress in the future."

While in prison, parents are also given opportunities to attend workshops to improve their communication and parenting skills.

Mr Jamsari Ahmad, a facilitator at one such workshop that CNA TODAY observed, said: "Some of them have been going in and out (of prison), such that they have lost the skill to interact with their children.

"Even when they are inside, the world out there has changed, so how they communicate also has to change."

Mr Jamsari is co-founder of BapaHebat SG, a community dedicated to empowering fathers through parenting workshops and support groups.

He said that instead of telling inmates about the importance of communication – which they already know – these workshops have reflection sessions and conduct role-play of realistic scenarios for inmates to hone practical skills, which they can immediately apply in their interactions with their children.

In the meantime, case workers continue supporting the inmates and their families to identify their immediate needs and connect them with relevant social service agencies.

Ms Nurul'Ain said: "Other than unemployment and the family relationships that are affected, they also have financial difficulties. So this adds to the pressure that they already have, and that is why they often struggle to adapt.

"And they do not know where to start."

Through these programmes, many ex-offenders learn to believe in themselves again – but rebuilding their lives, and their family ties, also depends on whether society is willing to believe in them, too.

For Ms Samsiah – who grew up as the "black sheep" of the family with little support after she married at 17 while drug addiction took hold – her stronger relationship with her family today is something she could never have imagined.

Missing five years of her children's lives in prison sent her into a deeply depressive state, at times reaching a point where she wanted to give up on life.

This led her to seek psychiatric support.

Together with encouragement from fellow ex-offenders and organisations who taught her how to reconnect with her family, they helped her accept that she was "still a mother worth believing in".

"Two years before my release, I made a promise to myself and to my sons: This would be my first and last prison sentence," Ms Samsiah said.

"I wanted them to see that their mother was stronger than her mistakes."