Ani­ka Gumbs-San­di­ford

The es­ca­lat­ing crime sit­u­a­tion con­tin­ues to pose a ma­jor chal­lenge in T&T, so the Sun­day Guardian takes this op­por­tu­ni­ty to fea­ture two ex-in­mates who have turned around their lives through dis­ci­pline and de­ter­mi­na­tion. We hope it can help to act as a de­ter­rent to the youths in­volved in crim­i­nal ac­tiv­i­ties.

Hub­by sells wife's wed­ding ring for coke

It was love at first sight when Gre­go­ry Ceasar met his bride-to-be 20 years ago. From the first glance he knew Sharon (not re­al name) had to be his wife. Not want­i­ng her out of his sight, months af­ter the cou­ple met, Ceasar, 53, who was then em­ployed as a tech­ni­cal as­sis­tant at Telecom­mu­ni­ca­tions Ser­vices Com­pa­ny of T&T, asked for his girl­friend's hand in mar­riage. And, like any young woman, she glad­ly ac­cept­ed much to the en­vy of many of her friends. Lit­tle did Sharon know, a wed­ding ring that sealed their mat­ri­mo­ny as man and wife for 15 years, would be quick­ly of­fered in ex­change for drugs to sat­is­fy her hus­band's chron­ic ad­dic­tion in a split sec­ond. "I sold my wife's wed­ding ring for $100, a ring I did not pur­chase but was giv­en to us by my moth­er-in-law. Jail not nice. I lost my fam­i­ly and my good job all for a smoke of co­caine. When you are on drugs you have no con­science; noth­ing or any­one mat­ters. You be­come self­ish be­cause all you are con­cerned about is to find a way to sat­is­fy your crav­ing. When you can­not sat­is­fy that urge every­one be­comes the en­e­my; whether it is your moth­er, wife broth­er or friend," the fa­ther of four ex­plained.

Ex-in­mate: Jail is no place to be

Ceasar's ad­dic­tion land­ed him be­hind bars on sev­er­al oc­ca­sions even­tu­al­ly lead­ing to his wife walk­ing away and even caus­ing him to lose his home. Some­thing he longs to make right but knows it is no longer pos­si­ble. On his re­lease from prison in 1991, Ceasar was one of the many ex-in­mates that was ac­cept­ed by the Vi­sion on Mis­sion Cen­tre (Vom) head­ed by Pres­i­dent, Wayne Chance to un­der­go the re­ha­bil­i­ta­tion pro­gramme. It has not been an easy road, but to­day, Ceasar is a de­liv­ery dri­ver at a promi­nent fast food out­let where he has been em­ployed for the past three months. He re­grets the road he opt­ed to walk which start­ed at age 12, when he giv­en his first cig­a­rette by his peers. A de­ci­sion re­spon­si­ble for him los­ing some of the most pre­cious things in one's life. "Some­times it is a lit­tle late to turn back the hands of time. As a young man I had it all-a job, nice wife, chil­dren, house and I threw it all away. I missed see­ing my kids grow; I lost years away from my chil­dren that I can nev­er get back. When you want to change your life it has to be some­thing you want to do. I have turned around my life and I now live for my chil­dren."

Christ­mas wish

A vis­i­bly re­morse­ful Ceasar, who re­sides at the Vom Tran­sit Cen­tre in Champs Fleurs, had one Christ­mas wish. "All I want is a place to call home so my chil­dren and I could be re­unit­ed. I would work hard and pay for that house, I do not want it for free; I would pay for it be­cause it is be­cause of me my fam­i­ly was sep­a­rat­ed."