Just last month, a married man in Samoa was sentenced to two years and three months imprisonment for being in possession of 7.9 grams of methamphetamine and an electronic scale used to weigh narcotics. He was a first-time offender. I know this, because my firm represented him.

At the date of hearing, I submitted a report from the Alcohol and Drug clinician noting that our client had issues with addiction and would do well to attend the alcohol and drug programme. The only problem was, however, that being charged with possession of methamphetamine, a Class-A drug, ruled out his eligibility for such a programme.

Even so, the judge stated this would be better submitted during sentencing submissions, which clearly was not considered in the end as the accused was sentenced to a lengthy spell in prison with no focus at all on rehabilitation. "This is to deter not only the defendant from future involvement with such illegal narcotics and to send a loud and clear message to others that if you involve yourself with methamphetamine it is likely you will be spending time in either Tafaigata or Vaiaata [Samoan prisons]," the presiding judge said during sentencing. "All other defendants who have previously appeared before the court on possession of methamphetamine have received imprisonment penalties and it is highly likely that will continue to be the case," he added.

Much of the world is now moving away from the idea of punishing personal possession of drugs and is instead treating personal use as a health issue, not a criminal one (including Iran by the way). In Samoa, however, the old-school style of thinking—that you can deter addicts by putting people in jail—still prevails.

During 2016 and 2017, I was the Principal Legal Analyst at the Samoa Law Reform Commission. From the date of my commencement to the date of my departure I was given one project: the reform of Samoa’s outdated Narcotics Act.

In mid-2016 I assigned to an intern the task of researching what had quietly been taking place in Portugal and other parts of the world with respect to the idea of decriminalising the use of drugs. Despite not knowing if Samoa could pull off such a feat, when the research memo was submitted to me I was swayed almost instantly, and I sent it to my superiors to see what they thought.

Most young men in Samoa have smoked cannabis, but that remains an unspoken truth in a country which likes pretend the reality is something different.

Being a tropical paradise, Samoa’s climate is perfect for the growth of cannabis; it can, and does, grow all year round. Our preliminary consultations revealed that most young men in Samoa have smoked cannabis, but that remains an unspoken truth in a country which likes pretend the reality is something different.

We also learned that some currently illegal drugs—like medicinal cannabis, oxycodone and methadone—are used in certain circumstances by the Ministry of Health. Usually, this is for pain relief when a patient has been non-responsive to the more traditional forms of treatment. We know of one such story in which medicinal cannabis had been prescribed for a woman with breast cancer who, unfortunately, died well before the cannabis had actually made its way to Samoa for her treatment.

All of this begged the question: did it make sense for a country in which cannabis can grow all year round to import its cannabis, a process which takes so long that patients die while waiting for treatment?

And this is where the problems began. Before you can even put these kinds of questions to stakeholders, many of them became very concerned about any use of “illegal” drugs at all. Most of them had never even realised that drugs like cannabis could be used for medicinal purposes, even when presented with evidence to the contrary. When I explained that the Ministry of Health was already prescribing them in certain circumstances, some stated that this should not be happening at all. The Ministry of Police, for example, were surprised it was going on without their knowledge.

As such, no one wants to talk about the economic, social and political benefits of Samoa scrapping a failed system and starting a unique one of its own. It became clear that challenging old ideas was almost impossible at the institutional levels that count. The _Samoa Observer—_Samoa’s most prominent newspaper—ran an article in 2016 entitled “Police winning war on drugs” which relied almost entirely on the testimony of an anonymous drug user, who stated: “I guess it’s time to just read my Bible and stay home, I wish this dry season happened during my tertiary years; I would have had a degree by now.”

The research we did on this topic was at some point axed from my paper in its entirety, and the topic wasn’t even put out as a matter for discussion. I eventually resigned in frustration.

No one seemed to care, but I believe Samoa could lead the Pacific in drug reform, even giving Pacific powers New Zealand and Australia a run for their money. According to the Scientific Research Organisation of Samoa, their research facilities are already well equipped to begin researching the effects and the benefits of marijuana—all they need is government go ahead.

Unfortunately, this green light is not even on the horizon; when the principal of my firm publicly called on the government to legalise marijuana, Samoa’s Prime Minister responded with a spectacular “it’s only people who are not well in the head who talk about such things.” While ignoring the irony of his strong support of the alcohol industry and alcohol’s relationship to violent murders in Samoa, the Prime Minister said that legalising drugs was "no different from saying we should also legalise people to kill other people."

Evidently, the decision-makers don’t always know what is best for the Samoan people. Drug prohibition is a tried-and-true failure. People are beginning to wake up to this fact. And yet many people like our client will be confined to a prison cell and separated from their wives, children and families for years when they could instead be given medical treatment.