There is a first time to everything, so says a popular maxim.
But what do you say to a teenager who feels like ingesting WEED for the very first time in his life? The excuse most victims tend to give could range from a number of several factors – exuberance, peer pressure or sheer curiosity.
Below is an interesting narration by a young Nigerian teenager who had just tasted weed for the first in his life:
I had just moved out of my parents’ house and was sharing a room with my "friend". I had no idea he smoked weed, despite his suspicious movements and signature weed scent (abi na odour?) barely two weeks after moving in with him, my worst fears were confirmed as he started bringing home his weed smoking buddies and they would occassionally roll a wrap and smoke it right there in the room or mix the weed with beans or spagehtti. Being a very curious person I always wondered what made them happy after smoking, so I decided to find out for myself (wrong move)
It was a very hot day in February, a Saturday I think it was, my friend was out as usual. I searched everywhere for his stash but couldn't find it so I decided to go and get mine. I arrived the weed joint all sweaty and nervous, half expecting to get mugged but nobody seemed to be aware of my presence there, they were all on different planets all expect one I concluded that he must be the seller so I approached him and the following conversation ensued:
Me: How far?
Weed seller: I dey
Me: I wan buy weed
Weed seller: How many parcels?
Me: Parcel ke? Iro oo, na just small i need
Weed seller: (laughs really hard) Bolo le leyi sha (meaning this guy is a dunce)
Apparently, a parcel of weed is that small wrap, I didn't know that. I thought it was something very large. I gave him N1,000 and he gave me a tiny wrap of weed with a white paper, I was surprised when he gave me 950 as change. I couldn't believe weed was that cheap.
On my way home, I decided not to smoke it but mix it with beans because i thought that it will be better that way (another wrong move). Long story short, I cooked beans and added the whole weed, ate it and called my friend, I told him “Ogbeni, I just ate weed oo and nothing happened to me. This one that you people will eat and be feeling funky, I don chop am oo.” My friend was like, “Ehen, you be strong man oo.”
I decided to take a quick nap before doing laundry, i woke up about 20 minutes later on the floor i was banging my head on the floor, and i couldn't stop, my heart beat was so audible and fast, everything was extra bright and extra loud. After a few minutes of head banging, i was able to get up from the floor,
I felt as if I had just gained access to a part of my mind that I never knew existed previously, it was scary and cool at the same time. I could feel the blood flowing in my veins (you have to experience it to believe it even though I strongly advise against it). I felt so uncomfortable in the room, it felt like i was in an oven suddenly a voice in my head whispered “Ogbeni bo aso e joor” (take off your clothes). I obeyed. The voice came again, “Oya sa re” (now run). That was when I realised that the weed had taken effect. I decided to take a shower to see if it will calm me down. But the water felt so hot on my skin I ran out of the bathroom.
I called my friend to see if he could help me make sense of what was going on but he laughed at me, he asked me the quantity of weed I took and i told him i used a whole parcel, he said, “Guyyyyy, you don high. If you no sleep in the next 30mins, you go mad o. Go chemist, make you go explain yourself.”
By this time things had escalated. I had a severe itch at the back of my head that wouldn't go away no matter how hard I scratched. I was convinced that the beating in my chest was an evil spirit that could only be killed with a punch. I ran to my neighbour champion and told him champion, “E jo e fun mi lese laya (champion, please punch me in the chest). Ti e ba gbami lese laya, mo ma ku oo (if you don't punch me, I will die oo)! He hissed and walked out having had enough of such nonsense from the boys in the boys quarters.
The voice in my head came again, “Iwo na o de gba ara e lese laya. Abi o ti fe ku ni?” (Why don't you punch yourself in the chest or do you want to die?) I punched and punched but there was no difference.
The house was getting hotter, the voice in my head was getting louder, the itch in my head was getting worse, and the evil spirit in my chest was getting louder. Then came the voice again, “Oya ma sare lo” (start running). I started running. But on getting outside in the sun, I felt cold so much that I was shivering. That didn't stop me from running anyway (I would have given Hussain Bolt a run for his money on that day).
On getting to the chemist, I realised I was bare footed. I told him I had a severe headache that I needed something to make me sleep immediately. He gave me the drug and I chewed it right there in his presence. Next I asked him to give me a drug for evil spirit. That was when he realised something was wrong with me and chased me out.
I got back home and tried to sleep but my heart beat wouldn’t let me. I ran back this time to a nurse in the area. The first thing she asked was, “Ki lo de. Oo wo bata ni?” (Why don't you have your shoes on?) I told her, “Jackie Chan ti gba bata lowo mi” (Jackie Chan collected my shoes). I was finally able to explain my situation to her. She took me in, tied something around my elbow and injected a liquid directly into my vein. I passed out immediately only to wake around 1.00am or 2.00am in the middle of the night with the worst kind of hunger I have ever felt in my life. I ate a whole loaf of butter field bread in one sitting without butter or tea.
I came home to a hero's welcome, my friend told me, “E be like say your head no carry am. But e go better make you try am once more so that you go dey use to it.”
The following day when the house was empty, I packed my Ghana-must-go bag and just like the prodigal son in the bible, I went back home to my parents. It has been a few years since that experience but the lesson I learnt is an unforgettable one. My curiosity hasn't gotten me in trouble again and my circle of friends has since changed.
The name of the author is withheld for obvious reason