I broke the British Indian taboo and made a film about my mum’s alcoholism
The number of Asian women being treated for alcoholism has almost doubled in the past 10 years, but it is still shrouded by silence and shame in many communities. It is why Maleena Pone decided to tackle the problems it was causing in her own family
I didn’t pick up the camera to make a film; I picked it up because I had run out of ways to pretend everything was fine. My mum, Jas, had been drinking for most of my life. She started when I was 12 and my younger brother Gavin was diagnosed with leukaemia. It was her way of coping. When he died five years later, I didn’t just lose my baby brother – I lost my mum too.
Her drinking escalated through her grief. She self-soothed with alcohol as a form of escapism. As a proud Punjabi woman, she didn’t drink openly, nor did she make a scene at parties. She drank quietly and privately, expressing her pain only when she was drunk. Apart from my dad and me, nobody knew how out of control her drinking was getting. When he died of a heart attack 12 years ago, it left just me and my much-younger sister to deal with my mum’s drinking and the problems that came with that.

As a British Indian eldest daughter, I grew up surrounded by the silence and shame that often wraps itself around addiction in our communities. There’s an inherited feeling of: “What will people think? Just keep it in the family”. So we did. I focused on my studies and my career, becoming the dependable daughter, because that’s what I needed to be as the surviving child. I carried a sense that I shouldn’t tell anyone about my mum’s drinking – that it would betray her in some way. But now, at the age of 40, I’m breaking that silence by releasing a film I’ve made about my mum’s alcoholism.
Saving Mum: Our Family Secret will be aired on Channel 4 on Wednesday night. It tells the story of my mum and me confronting her drinking, facing up to our grief and doing an ayahuasca ceremony in Costa Rica to finally start healing together. It’s also the first time British TV has depicted maternal addiction in a South Asian family in this way.

So why am I making public something so intimate? I had to make this film because the way I feel and the love I have for my mum demanded it of me. This isn’t about sensationalism, but humanity. I was driven by a need to do something, and I hoped that by turning the camera on Mum, I’d be able to connect with her in a different way. I wanted to talk to her as a director, not as her daughter, so I could hold space for her without bringing in my own resentments.
I didn’t know if Mum would agree, but she surprised me by saying yes. The reasons are multiple. She’s seen my films and knows what good journalism is. She trusts me. But she’s also seen me change when I came back from a year of deep healing. She was inspired. She wanted to change, too.
This film gave us hope that it was possible. That’s the power of storytelling – it allows you to hope. As Indians and Sikhs, we also believe in the principle of seva: being in service to something bigger. We both wanted this film to show people they’re not alone, so they can get the help they need.
The number of Asian women accessing treatment for alcohol dependency has almost doubled in the past 10 years, according to NHS figures, with 38 per cent of Indian women drinking, yet they still make up just 2 per cent of the treatment population. The shame of addiction thrives in silence, and this film is one way of breaking that silence and dismantling the stigma. I want my community to see themselves in a story that holds complexity rather than stereotypes, so those suffering feel less alone and less judged.
I made a decision to be honest as a filmmaker and that means you have to show the truth of things. Even if it’s with your own mum
One of the hardest parts of the process was deciding how much to share. I have recordings and audio clips of my mum when she’s drunk. She can be hysterical, swearing and emotional – but also cold. I chose to share some of that material. I was nervous to do so because my own childhood wound tells me to keep everything hidden. But I made a decision to be honest as a filmmaker and that means you have to show the truth of things. Even if it’s with your own mum.

Part of me was terrified that making this film would make things worse. There’s a reason why choosing silence is sometimes easier. My mum, who is 62 today, is vulnerable of course, but she’s also out in the world as the independent and capable woman she’s fought to become. Holding both those parts of her has always been important to me. But I didn’t want her to feel exposed, then go into her shame cycle and drink more. I was scared of making things worse for her. I have a duty of care to her as a filmmaker, but also as her daughter, so I made sure we all had a lot of support throughout this process. She’s reached out to friends and family, and has a solid network around her, including my grandmother.
She’s the person I was most nervous to share the film with because she’s still deeply ingrained in the Indian community. I thought she’d be scared the film would lead to people judging our family. But when I showed it to her, she hugged me and said: “I’m proud of you. You’re holding this all in, and I hope now you can let it go.” That was so powerful to hear. She understands I’m the generation that can dance the line between shame and truth and break the cycle.
Even though there was a chance that this film could make things worse, I had to make it. Deep down, I had faith that this was the way, and things would be different on the other side. I was right. Going to Costa Rica to do plant medicine with my mum was a profound experience. It showed me that her drinking was never about me – she drank to cope with the belief that she didn’t matter, that she’d failed as a mother when my brother died. We both wept as we finally understood each other for the first time in years.

I know now that I can never save my mum. That’s not my job – it’s hers. I need to focus on myself. My mum and I are now in a very different place. Our relationship has shifted and we communicate so differently from how we used to. Since we started making the film, I’ve been living with her in Southampton. It’s not perfect, but the deep fear she might harm herself has left me.
She still drinks, but I’ve witnessed her hold her relationship with herself and alcohol very differently. She’s in therapy and engaging with services like No More Pretending, which supports people living with alcohol dependency, so that one day she can stop drinking altogether. She’s changed since we made the film. She cares about herself now. She goes to the gym. She’s taking care of herself for the first time in years. She’s not in the abusive relationship with herself that she used to be in. And I’m seeing more clearly what kind of person and storyteller I want to be.
I hope this film shows that people can change and the heaviest stories can be rewritten. But I also want people to understand recovery isn’t linear. Sometimes, we don’t have the answers. Pain doesn’t make someone less human. But addiction does have an unseen cost to the people who love you the most.
This film isn’t a perfect story with a happy-ever-after – it’s about two women learning to tell the truth after a lifetime of hiding it.
As told to Radhika Sanghani
‘Saving Mum: Our Family Secret’ airs Wednesday 10 December at 11.10pm on Channel 4



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