Breaking the kush curse
SINGING sweetly as she packed her bag to leave the rehab centre, Mariama Turay vowed never again to smoke kush, the fearsome drug that wrecked her marriage – and countless lives in Sierra Leone.
'This drug is killing us slowly,' sighed the gentle-mannered 29-year-old, elegantly made up with shiny rings in her ears and nose.
'I'm promising myself that I am not going there anymore.'
After seven weeks of therapeutic rehab under military guard with doctors and social workers, she is ready to go home to her parents.
An hour's drive from the state-run centre where she was treated, desperate addicts who could not obtain therapeutic care lie chained to the floor for months in an informal detox house.
'The parents have nowhere to take their children,' said Hassan Kamara, the traditional healer who runs it.
'It's impossible to control their children. The suffering is too much.'
Patients wearing T-shirts with the words 'Youth Lives Matter' leaving a government-operated rehab centre after finishing their programme in the outskirts of Freetown. — AFP
Highly addictive
Sierra Leone's President Julius Maada Bio in April 2024 declared a state of emergency due to a spike in deaths caused by kush, a synthetic drug containing powerful opioids and sometimes synthetic versions of cannabis-derived substances.
Tests on kush in Sierra Leone found nitazenes, a synthetic opioid comparable to fentanyl, according to the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime.
Cheap and highly addictive, kush can drive users psychotic, sparking hallucinations and damaging vital organs.
Once an aspiring actress, Turay fell into its grips aged 27 while suffering the stress of marital problems.
Her husband – himself a user and dealer – said the drug would help her sleep.
'It worked,' she said.
But soon, she was wanting more, morning and evening.
Her husband left and moved to Canada, where he received addiction treatment and remarried.
Turay moved back in with her parents and her life fell apart.
'The drug was controlling me. My body ached until I smoked it,' she recalled.
'I sold my television, my wedding clothes, my wedding ring, because I didn't want men to use me – just for the drugs.'
The national detox centre that treated her – until recently, the only one in the poverty-stricken country – has provided treatment to over 300 addicts since opening in February 2024. More than 2,000 are on the waiting list.
Kamara said the centre he runs at his home in the Freetown suburbs has helped over 2,000 addicts recover through his 'healing process' of abrupt severance.
Chained to beds
On a visit to Kamara's barricaded house, six young men sprawled on filthy mattresses with iron chains restraining their ankles.
Weakened by hunger and thirst and in some cases apparently sedated, they lay dazed with anguished looks in their eyes.
'I am OK with the treatment,' said one of them, Manso Koroma, under Kamara's watchful eye.
After four months chained to the bed, 'I've recovered,' said Koroma, a 31-year-old man with a stricken expression and a haggard, scarred body.
'I'm just waiting for my sister to come and I can leave here.'
A former motorcycle taxi rider, he had one leg amputated at the knee after a traffic accident – and took kush for the pain.
'When I came here, I was really violent. It took two days before the healer could start the healing process,' he said.
Kush kills young people
Kamara treats addicts with 'leaves from the forests and religious verses', he said, showing bottles of unidentified concoctions.
'I use the chain to protect them from escaping,' he said. 'I'm doing them good.'
He acknowledged that his patients live in poor conditions but said his centre is under-resourced. He pleaded with the government for help.
Ansu Konneh, director of mental health at the country's social welfare ministry, said the government wants to remove people from such unofficial sites, of which he estimates there are more than a dozen.
'A lot of violations against human rights is taking place in these informal centres,' he said.
'We cannot legitimise them by helping them.'
A second official national rehab centre opened in the south on May 16.
Fears of relapse
In late April, Turay was among 52 former addicts aged 17 to 35 who walked out of the official rehab centre on the outskirts of Freetown. Most were at university when they became addicted.
Some took selfies, singing and joking, but others wore haunted looks and spoke with voices still slurred from the effects of the drug.
At her family home, Turay hugged her parents and brothers and asked them to forgive her. She kneeled at the feet of her father Ibrahim, 60.
'Thank you, God! Today my daughter is back home,' he said. 'I hope you've learned your lesson.'
'Of course,' she replied, sobbing.
But her mother Aissata frets about relapse.
'I am worried that Mariama will go back to smoking because where we live, there are so many people who smoke kush.'
In her bedroom, the young woman unpacked her belongings along with a manual: '12 steps for recovery for an addict'.
She said she wants to go back to college, train as a beautician and one day 'have a child, if God blesses me with the right man'. — AFP
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Star
6 hours ago
- The Star
Breaking the kush curse
SINGING sweetly as she packed her bag to leave the rehab centre, Mariama Turay vowed never again to smoke kush, the fearsome drug that wrecked her marriage – and countless lives in Sierra Leone. 'This drug is killing us slowly,' sighed the gentle-mannered 29-year-old, elegantly made up with shiny rings in her ears and nose. 'I'm promising myself that I am not going there anymore.' After seven weeks of therapeutic rehab under military guard with doctors and social workers, she is ready to go home to her parents. An hour's drive from the state-run centre where she was treated, desperate addicts who could not obtain therapeutic care lie chained to the floor for months in an informal detox house. 'The parents have nowhere to take their children,' said Hassan Kamara, the traditional healer who runs it. 'It's impossible to control their children. The suffering is too much.' Patients wearing T-shirts with the words 'Youth Lives Matter' leaving a government-operated rehab centre after finishing their programme in the outskirts of Freetown. — AFP Highly addictive Sierra Leone's President Julius Maada Bio in April 2024 declared a state of emergency due to a spike in deaths caused by kush, a synthetic drug containing powerful opioids and sometimes synthetic versions of cannabis-derived substances. Tests on kush in Sierra Leone found nitazenes, a synthetic opioid comparable to fentanyl, according to the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime. Cheap and highly addictive, kush can drive users psychotic, sparking hallucinations and damaging vital organs. Once an aspiring actress, Turay fell into its grips aged 27 while suffering the stress of marital problems. Her husband – himself a user and dealer – said the drug would help her sleep. 'It worked,' she said. But soon, she was wanting more, morning and evening. Her husband left and moved to Canada, where he received addiction treatment and remarried. Turay moved back in with her parents and her life fell apart. 'The drug was controlling me. My body ached until I smoked it,' she recalled. 'I sold my television, my wedding clothes, my wedding ring, because I didn't want men to use me – just for the drugs.' The national detox centre that treated her – until recently, the only one in the poverty-stricken country – has provided treatment to over 300 addicts since opening in February 2024. More than 2,000 are on the waiting list. Kamara said the centre he runs at his home in the Freetown suburbs has helped over 2,000 addicts recover through his 'healing process' of abrupt severance. Chained to beds On a visit to Kamara's barricaded house, six young men sprawled on filthy mattresses with iron chains restraining their ankles. Weakened by hunger and thirst and in some cases apparently sedated, they lay dazed with anguished looks in their eyes. 'I am OK with the treatment,' said one of them, Manso Koroma, under Kamara's watchful eye. After four months chained to the bed, 'I've recovered,' said Koroma, a 31-year-old man with a stricken expression and a haggard, scarred body. 'I'm just waiting for my sister to come and I can leave here.' A former motorcycle taxi rider, he had one leg amputated at the knee after a traffic accident – and took kush for the pain. 'When I came here, I was really violent. It took two days before the healer could start the healing process,' he said. Kush kills young people Kamara treats addicts with 'leaves from the forests and religious verses', he said, showing bottles of unidentified concoctions. 'I use the chain to protect them from escaping,' he said. 'I'm doing them good.' He acknowledged that his patients live in poor conditions but said his centre is under-resourced. He pleaded with the government for help. Ansu Konneh, director of mental health at the country's social welfare ministry, said the government wants to remove people from such unofficial sites, of which he estimates there are more than a dozen. 'A lot of violations against human rights is taking place in these informal centres,' he said. 'We cannot legitimise them by helping them.' A second official national rehab centre opened in the south on May 16. Fears of relapse In late April, Turay was among 52 former addicts aged 17 to 35 who walked out of the official rehab centre on the outskirts of Freetown. Most were at university when they became addicted. Some took selfies, singing and joking, but others wore haunted looks and spoke with voices still slurred from the effects of the drug. At her family home, Turay hugged her parents and brothers and asked them to forgive her. She kneeled at the feet of her father Ibrahim, 60. 'Thank you, God! Today my daughter is back home,' he said. 'I hope you've learned your lesson.' 'Of course,' she replied, sobbing. But her mother Aissata frets about relapse. 'I am worried that Mariama will go back to smoking because where we live, there are so many people who smoke kush.' In her bedroom, the young woman unpacked her belongings along with a manual: '12 steps for recovery for an addict'. She said she wants to go back to college, train as a beautician and one day 'have a child, if God blesses me with the right man'. — AFP
New Straits Times
2 days ago
- New Straits Times
UK MPs vote in favour of assisted dying law in historic step
LONDON: Britain took a historic step towards allowing euthanasia on Friday when MPs backed contentious legislation that would introduce assisted dying for terminally ill people. Lawmakers in the lower House of Commons voted 314 in favour to 291 to send the proposal to the upper House of Lords for further scrutiny following four hours of emotional debate. The outcome sparked celebrations among supporters gathered outside parliament who say legalised euthanasia will give people with an incurable illness dignity and choice at the end of their lives. But opponents attending a neighbouring counter-protest said they feared vulnerable people could be coerced into dying and urged lawmakers to focus on improving palliative care instead. The Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill would allow assisted suicide in England and Wales for adults who have been given less than six months to live. They would have to be able to administer the life-ending substance themselves, and any patient's wish to die would have to be signed off by two doctors and a panel of experts. A change in the law would see Britain emulate several other countries in Europe and elsewhere that allow some form of assisted dying, including Belgium and the Netherlands. Labour MP Kim Leadbeater, who proposed the legislation, told Friday's so-called third reading debate that a law change would "offer a compassionate and safe choice" for terminally ill people. She said maintaining the status quo would mean more "heartbreaking stories" of "pain and trauma, suicide attempts, PTSD, lonely trips to Switzerland, (and) police investigations." But Vicky Foxcroft, also of Labour, said the proposal did not include adequate safeguards for disabled people. "We have to protect those people who are susceptible to coercion, who already feel like society doesn't value them, who often feel like a burden to the state, society and their family," she pleaded. Outside parliament, protesters waved placards with slogans including "Let us choose" and "Don't make doctors killers." David Walker, 82, said he supported changing the law because he saw his wife of 60 years suffer for three years at the end of her life. "That's why I'm here, because I can't help her anymore, but I can help other people who are going through the same thing, because if you have no quality of life, you have nothing," he told AFP. But Elizabeth Burden, a 52-year-old doctor, said she feared the legislation would open a "slippery slope" where those eligible for assisted dying expands. "Once we allow this, everything will slip down because dementia patients, all patients... are vulnerable," she told AFP. MPs backed the proposed legislation by 330 to 275 votes at an initial vote in parliament last November. Since then, the bill has undergone several changes, including applying a ban on adverts for assisted dying and allowing all health workers to opt out of helping someone end their life. MPs in the 650-seat parliament also added a safeguard which would prevent a person being eligible "solely as a result of voluntarily stopping eating or drinking," ruling out people with anorexia. Britain's medical community and Prime Minister Keir Starmer's top ministerial team are split on the proposed law change. His health and justice secretaries publicly oppose it. But in a YouGov poll of 2,003 adults, surveyed last month and published Thursday, 73 per cent of respondents backed an assisted dying law. MPs had backed an earlier version of the proposed legislation by 330 to 275 votes at an initial vote in parliament last November, before parliament introduced the changes. The House of Lords now needs to approve the legislation before the end of the current parliamentary year, likely in the autumn, or the bill will fail. If it passes and receives royal assent, it would still be four years before an assisted dying service was implemented. A government impact assessment published this month estimated that approximately 160 to 640 assisted deaths could take place in the first year, rising to a possible 4,500 in a decade. Assisted suicide currently carries a maximum prison sentence of 14 years in England, Wales and Northern Ireland. Separate legislation is going through the devolved Scottish parliament. At the end of March, the Isle of Man became the first British territory to pass an assisted dying bill.
New Straits Times
2 days ago
- New Straits Times
UK MPs to decide fate of assisted dying bill in critical vote
LONDON: British lawmakers could take a major step towards legalising euthanasia on Friday when they hold a knife-edge vote on whether to allow assisted dying for terminally ill people. MPs will either progress the legislation to the House of Lords upper chamber for further scrutiny or end it entirely following several hours of impassioned debate. Protesters both for and against the contentious bill are expected to gather outside parliament as the so-called third reading – the MPs' last chance to debate its contents – takes place inside. "It is about real people facing the prospect of a painful and undignified death either for themselves or a loved one," the legislation's proposer, MP Kim Leadbeater, told AFP in a statement. "The injustice and inhumanity of the status quo means we cannot wait any longer to offer them the hope of a better death." The Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill would allow assisted suicide in England and Wales for adults with an incurable illness who have a life expectancy of fewer than six months. They would have to be able to administer themselves the life-ending substance, and any patient's wish to die would have to be signed off by two doctors and a panel of experts. A change in the law would see Britain emulate several other countries in Europe and elsewhere that allow some form of assisted dying. Supporters say euthanasia would give the terminally ill greater protections and choice at the end of their lives, but critics worry that vulnerable people could be coerced into dying. The Royal College of Psychiatrists said last month that it had "serious concerns" about the safeguarding of people with mental illness and said it cannot support the bill in its current form. MPs backed the proposed legislation by 330 to 275 votes at an initial vote in parliament last November. Since then the bill has undergone several changes, including applying a ban on adverts for assisted dying and allowing all health workers to opt out of helping someone end their life. Several lawmakers in the 650-seat parliament have subsequently switched positions, and parties are not telling them how to vote, making the outcome difficult to predict. An ITV News tracker of around half the parliamentarians estimates that 153 MPs plan to vote for changing the law, with 141 against. Some 21 remain undecided with another 21 due to abstain. Both the House of Commons and the House of Lords need to approve the legislation before the end of the current parliamentary year, likely sometime in the autumn, or the bill will fail. If it passes and receives royal assent, then it would be four years before an assisted dying service is implemented. A government impact assessment published this month estimated that approximately 160 to 640 assisted deaths could take place in the first year, rising to a possible 4,500 in year 10. Prime Minister Keir Starmer is expected to vote in favour but several of his top ministerial team, including the health and justice secretaries, have publicly opposed changing the law. Assisted suicide currently carries a maximum prison sentence of 14 years in England, Wales and Northern Ireland.
