‘Scary hallucinations forced me to sober up’

“I lost my family because I loved alcohol and drugs more than I did my wife and kids. I cannot blame anyone but myself for that, but I am happy because now I am trying to fit back into society.

It is the biggest challenge any recovering addict can face, so I don’t really blame those sceptics who will forever view me as a drunkard – the life I led for so many years left my integrity completely in tatters.

But I no longer expect other people to understand me like I did back when I stole to get money to support my addiction. Instead, I am trying to understand them.

My long story goes back to 1983. As a Form Five student in Kiambu High School, I would be sent by other boys to buy alcohol and bhang (marijuana) for them.

In return, I would get a share and that is how I got hooked into substance abuse. I smoked bhang everyday and drank on weekends. A time came when I could not do without two or three rolls of bhang a day.

Constant conflict

In just a few months, I had lost all motivation for school and my academic performance dropped drastically. I was in constant conflict with the administration and everyone else because of the change in my personality. I was described as the most notorious boy in the school.

When I got to Form Six I became the chairman of the Zion Club, which comprised all the substance abusers in the school. We met at night and played music by Bob Marley. The message in the music nurtured our habit.

When I sat for my finals, I somehow managed to get a principal pass in Christian Religious Education, as well as two subsidiaries in History and Literature. I got a job as an untrained teacher in Kiaria High School, in Githunguri, Kiambu District, where I smoked bhang and drank with my students in the liquor dens almost everyday.

I was their accomplice in crime and their teacher at the same time. Predictably, I lost their respect and earned myself various derogatory nicknames, including kipepeo (butterfly, because of my ungainly, drunken gait), suti moja (one suit, because I owned no more than one since I spent all my money on alcohol and drugs) and kumi kumi (the name of the brew I drank).

The school principal soon got wind of what was going on and gave me several warnings. I ignored them all and lost my job as a result. It was a week to the end of the term and I was the master on duty. This meant I had custody of the keys to the staffroom and all the classes.

One morning I woke up to find that I did not know where the keys were. Then I remembered having gone straight from school to the drinking den the previous day.

I rushed there but the keys were nowhere to be found. In the event, I ended up getting drunk and did not go to work that day. The school’s board of governors had me suspended from duty and a week later I was sacked because I never went to argue my case.

I was jobless for all of 1986. It was a very tough time and to cope, I started selling all I owned to get money for drinking. I would plead with my parents and they would give me money to live, but I would drink it all.

A friend of mine used to peddle bhang and I would go and help him roll the drug. That earned me a few sticks and free smokes. That is how I spent my days.

The following year I got a job as a dancer and tour guide at the Riuki Cultural Centre, in Githunguri. Drinking and drug abuse were a culture there and this was like a God-sent opportunity that I seized and exploited to the maximum.

Muratina (a traditional wine) and bhang were readily available. Life was about getting high everyday and this only got me more addicted.

In late 1988, the centre wound up and reality set in – I could not afford to finance the lifestyle I had become used to. I struggled until 1989, when I got a job as a clerk at a coffee factory. But I lost it after a year because I was constantly high. I remained jobless for the next four years.

In 1991, I moved from Kiambu and went to live in Kiserian. This was when the road from Kiserian to Isinya was being carpeted and I would siphon diesel from the construction lorries and sell it to get money for alcohol and drugs. This went on until 1992, when I got a job as an agent/broker for estate disposal in Nyamakima, Nairobi.

I used to spend the nights in clubs and this went on until some relatives talked me into going back home. They tricked me into believing that we were going for a wedding and would be back.

But when I got there, I had no money to return to Nairobi, so I just stayed. I was very broke and this kept me away from drugs and drink. But I was back to it a year later.

In 1995, I married a woman with whom I had had a child, but come 1996, I was jobless again. I rushed back to Nairobi and went back to my old job as a broker and soon forgot about home as ‘friends’ kept me company.

The following year, the job was gone and I headed back home. I started poultry farming and somehow managed not to drink.

A year later, I moved to Kiambu town where I started a business with the money I had made from keeping chickens. At last, I was able to provide comfortably for my family… but not for long.

The following year I started drinking again. Come 2002, I was back on drugs as well as drinking. Then someone torched my business premises and in retaliation, I took to hurling insults at everyone I met.

Disagreed and fought

My marriage suffered as my wife and I openly disagreed and fought. Sometimes I would throw her out and demand money for drinking. My children dared not stay in the house when I was in. They were so scared of me you would have thought I was a total stranger to them.

I took to avoiding my own home and would go only when I was sure my wife was away. I traded household goods, including the television, her mobile phone, clothes and shoes, for alcohol.

My health deteriorated to the point where I was vomiting blood every morning. My breakfast by then was a glass of chang’aa. Poor hygiene was second nature to me and my wife often had to force me to have a bath.

My wake up call came when I started hallucinating. I would see and talk to imaginary people and this made me so scared that I wouldn’t even go out of the house alone. I often saw cats, dogs and other beings chasing me.

This made my neighbours and family say I was going insane. I too, started doubting my sanity. It didn’t help that when I decided to see a doctor at a nearby private clinic and explain to him what I was going through, he dismissed me with a look that clearly said, “You are a mad man!”

From the clinic I went straight to the nearest bar to drink and smoke – that is how I managed to keep the hallucinations away. I had realised by then that I experienced them whenever I was sober.

One day I called my elder sister and explained what I was going through. She came to see me and said we should go and see a doctor. Instead, she took me to the Asumbi Rehabilitation Centre in Karen, Nairobi.

I resisted at first, but after three days I gave in. That was in November 2005, the same year my wife finally decided to leave with our three children.

By mid-February of the following year I had been through addiction counselling and treatment. I decided to attend training in addiction counselling, which is what has helped me understand myself and others who are addicts of one thing or another.

I believe I am now a better person and more focused on personal development and helping to bring about change in society. The best thing is that I have regained my self-esteem, confidence, and self-respect, and I look forward to a bright future.

I harbour no regrets because that was my past and there is nothing I can do about it. That was the ‘me’ of that time. I had decayed spiritually, but now I am spiritually rich, and I appreciate that life has so much to offer. I am moving on.

When I am not counselling substance abusers, which is what I do for a living now, I am composing music. My music draws a lot from my life experiences and incorporate themes like hope, courage, acceptance, tolerance, gratitude and the acknowledgement of God as my saviour.

My mother says I am a miracle and my neighbours describe me as the man who came back to life. This is no wonder because I had sunk to the point where my own parents had given up on me.

My advice, especially to young people, is be on the look out for misleading company – those people who make wrong-doing seem very enjoyable. Although I do not blame anyone for the mistakes I have made, I do believe the company I kept had a terrible influence on me.”

(Next week: children of addicts share what it is like growing up with parents who are rarely, if ever, sober.)