On November 18, I visited Santa Maria Addolorata Cemetery to pay my respects to my dear parents. I wept as if they had died the day before. When the loss is hard to bear it is not unusual to become emotional and shed tears.

As I strolled away from the graves of the persons I had adored in life and even in death, I observed the photographs of those who died young, and my heart missed a beat. I knew most of them. They were victims of drug abuse.

That’s when I became angry at the thought. What are we doing to solve the drug problem, I said to myself. Of course we have Caritas, Sedqa, Oasi and others to help and offer rehabilitation services, but what about drugs entering the country?

I am tired of hearing about the deaths of drug addicts and so should everyone else. Dying is for the old and weary not the muscular young.