After waiting for over eight years for the release of her son from prison, Connie Cacciattolo was full of hope for his future when he finally returned home earlier this month.

However, just two weeks after his release, life dealt a cruel blow when her 34-year-old son Silvio died of a drug overdose.

His mourning mother accepted to speak to The Times saying she wanted to show drug users how their addiction did not only affect them - it was a scourge on the whole family.

"Look how we've ended up. A little powder can defeat a man, and my son was a strong man. Unfortunately, drug users don't realise this. And they have no idea how it devastates a family. They just have no idea," Mrs Cacciattolo said as she sat down in her living room and softly recounted how her son's drug addiction started about 11 years ago.

At the time, she said, he used to run a shop but he eventually lost interest in the job and stopped working. Of course, he had to get money to buy drugs from somewhere - that was when the theft started. And with theft came a series of court cases that landed him in jail for a total of about eight and a half years.

He finally walked out of prison this month and, two weeks later, his cousin found him lying unconscious in the bathroom of his mother's apartment. Just two weeks into his freedom, he had overdosed.

His mother explained how her son's partner, Lorraine, and their daughter Heather, who live abroad, had planned to come to visit him in Malta after his release. However, having been released earlier than they expected, after paying a fine, they never got to meet him and arrived in Malta only to attend his funeral.

Her son's overdose left Mrs Cacciattolo questioning "the so-called correctional prison system".

"I know that my son chose drugs and I do understand that he got caught but, in the end of the day, he was a victim. And a victim needs help and should not be thrown in jail where, as everyone knows, there are drugs too.

"What really upsets me is that he was jailed; jail being what it is. Had he been in some form of a rehabilitation programme, instead of prison, all that time, I would have been eternally grateful. But the reality is that in jail drugs are readily available. I can't tell you how many television sets, fans and PlayStation games I bought him while he was in prison, but he'd give them away. He was probably trading them for drugs," she said.

Mrs Cacciattolo explained how her son went through various rehabilitation programmes, but each time he would end up taking drugs again - and this after over eight years in a correctional facility. Something was wrong with the system.

"There ought to be a safe place where people like him can clean themselves of this problem and prison is not that place," she insisted.

While Mrs Cacciattolo vented her frustration at the system, her other children walked in and out of the room. Yanika, Silvio's youngest sister, explained how he never admitted taking drugs even when it was obvious. "Maybe he didn't want to hurt us," she said.

"While you're doing drugs you don't realise how ugly it is. But when it touches you or your family you do. We used to hear of people who died of an overdose, and we'd be sorry for that person, but that was it. But once it touches you, you realise how drugs can overcome everyone," she said.

Her mother, clearly devastated by the tragedy, went on to recount how the other day, she dreamt that her son was walking towards her in the direction of their house.

"He was dragging his feet and when he arrived next to me he told me: 'Hey mummy' and I told him: 'Hey Gahan'. That was his nickname. He was such a kind-hearted man. He just wanted to make people laugh," she said.

That was when her eldest daughter, Josette, produced a photo of her brother who was laughing. "This is how I want to remember him. As someone who made me laugh," she smiled.

Her mother then remembered something. "It was like he felt his death coming. A week earlier he sent a text message to a family friend, pretending he was someone else, saying: 'You heard about Silvio? He overdosed in the bath tub'.

"He had told me about the joke and I told him to call the poor man and tell him he was joking. Then it actually happened," she said.

Mrs Cacciattolo's other daughter, Rose, recalled how happy she was when she went to pick him up from prison together with her mother, sister and daughter. "But he was not meant to be with us for long... He'd often tell us he'd stop taking drugs but he never did. Yet, I know that it was never his intention to hurt us," she said.

After a brief pause, Mrs Cacciattolo noted how, sadly, some people think that people who do drugs are "bad" people. But she guaranteed with all her heart that this was not the case.

She often went with her son to the hospital's detox centre where she got to know quite a few people. And most, she said, are really kind and gentle people. "It's these kind of people who fall into the drug trap," she said.

Her other son Kevin, who walked into the room, agreed in a soft tone: "They are often victims. It's those who sell but don't take drugs who are not victims".

Mrs Cacciattolo stressed how important it was that relatives did not give up on drug addicts. Tears rolled down her face as she recalled how her son sent her so many cards while he was in jail and when he attended rehabilitation programmes.

"I don't regret being there for him," she said. She also wanted to thank all those relatives and friends who had shown their support before and after her son's death, as well as Fr Hillary Tagliaferro, Fr Victor Inguanez and Fr Alex Cordina who led her son's funeral Mass.

"During the funeral Mass there were a lot of my son's friends too. Some who did drugs. I hope they finally understand how utterly destructive that powder can be. I really hope so, with all my heart," the mother said as tears rolled down her face.