I recently ran into a noisy scuffle on my way home from a social gathering. The weary voice of a woman struggling to retrieve an item concealed in a polythene bag from a young man caught my attention. I sensed her vulnerability immediately, and it became clear that the young, unkempt man was at the centre of the brouhaha.
“Uche, are you cursed?” she yelled at him, her eyes blazing with fury. Interestingly, he was the same young man I had encountered a couple of times wrapping Indian hemp in hidden corners of my community. I remember buying food for him on one occasion when he begged me for garri.
In an attempt to salvage the deteriorating situation, I asked the woman, who turned out to be his mother, to calm down and not struggle with him. As soon as she obliged, I asked the young man to hand over the bone of contention, and he did so immediately. It was a pressing iron. He had gone into their house, taken the item, and planned to sell it to feed himself. Uche’s mother became emotional as she told me, “He has been selling my properties to gratify his appetite for hard drugs.”
Uche countered his mother immediately, saying, “I want to eat. I have no money, so I thought I could sell the pressing iron to feed myself.” Luckily, the drama was unfolding almost opposite a food hawker stationed for those breaking their Ramadan fast. “Come with me. I will buy you some food,” I said as we walked to the stand. While he was eating, a popular member of our community, Star Boy (not real name), told me a sad story.
“Uche was doing well abroad before he was deported to Nigeria for reasons that are still unknown. He was always sending money and other valuables to his parents until the unfortunate happened. I think he suffered depression and, in trying to find solace, mixed with the wrong people who introduced him to drugs. Most times, he smokes all sorts of hard drugs – from kolorado to loud – from morning till evening without food. His case needs urgent attention because he is already exhibiting signs of mental instability.”
Star Boy’s account of Uche’s predicament struck a chord in my mind. It resonated with my suspicions from previous encounters. There were moments when I watched him talk to himself as he wandered around our community without a shirt, sometimes begging passersby for money.
From my personal observations, I soon realised that Uche is not the only one battling drug-induced mental breakdown. There are at least six others I later discovered facing the same problem. One of them is a bank worker who lost his job after a wrap of Indian hemp was found in his pocket.
The bigger problem is the presence of multiple street drug dealers in many communities like mine. This sad reality has made hard drugs easily accessible to youths. Some of these dealers include married women with stable families who still choose to destroy other families through drug distribution. In fact, there is a case of a wealthy family where the father, mother, and children are all involved in substance abuse. I have personally seen both father and son smoking together.
In fairness to the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) and the Nigeria Police, they have raided my community several times. However, what I have observed is that these street drug dealers are often released and return to their nefarious activities. The story that usually follows is that they regain their freedom after parting with some sums of money. If this is true, then the integrity of both NDLEA and Nigeria Police personnel is at stake.
Compromising standards in enforcing laws against drug crimes should not be tolerated by governments at any level. Drug dealers pose a serious threat to social stability and security and should be punished accordingly. Many local crimes, such as theft, rape, and violent clashes, have been linked to drug abuse. This is why we must all lend our voices to the outcry against the emergence of narco-communities in Nigeria.
In Ikotun, where I reside, and in many other parts of Nigeria, the normalisation of drug abuse is not a good omen. It signals a collapse of values and responsible parenthood. It also reflects the level of moral decay in our society, where even law enforcement agents may enable drug offenders by looking the other way when money changes hands. While I hope Uche finds help, I use this medium to call on all stakeholders to think strategically in tackling this menace before more of our youths are lost.
