Free, Untethered Adult at Campus: How I Survived Drug Abuse

Psychologists often liken young people to tender plants flowering for the first time. For this reason, they need good care and protection to ensure their healthy growth and development. Therefore, society imposes restrictions on various activities until individuals reach a certain age, usually referred to as the age of maturity. The age of maturity varies from one society to another; however, most societies use 18 years as the threshold. For example, in Kenya, you are not allowed to vote, drink, or marry before that age. Unfortunately, many young people view these restrictions as an unfair denial of freedom. While some engage in these restricted activities secretly to avoid getting caught, others, like me, wait impatiently to reach the required age.

After reaching this age, most parents tend to step back from their children’s lives, exposing them to various challenges, including but not limited to drug abuse. Drug abuse is a significant social and health crisis among the youth. Many are struggling with it, and I believe they would benefit from hearing my story, as I was a victim during my campus days.

In secondary school, I was a brilliant student with a strong desire to attend university. Teachers often reminded us to be patient, work hard, and aim for university, describing it as a hub of all enjoyments. “Wasichana wazuri wako University,” they would say, meaning “Beautiful girls are in university.”

Fortunately, I managed to go to university. My parents relaxed, thinking they had succeeded in raising a well-mannered boy. While they ensured I had all the material items I needed—food, clothes, money for rent, and other necessities—they gave me little attention or affection. Unlike my former teachers, university lecturers did not manage my life outside the classroom. I was left at the mercy of the free world.

It was during my second year of study that I began craving the warmth of friendship and acceptance. Fellow students who seemed eager to befriend me were abusing drugs. They first introduced me to drinking alcohol. Initially, I found it adventurous and would drink heavily on weekends in their company. Eventually, I graduated to other drugs like miraa and ‘jaba’ since alcohol alone no longer satisfied me.

During school holidays, my parents focused on my younger siblings, ensuring they completed their holiday assignments and were engaged in the right activities. I, the lone wolf, was left to explore the world on my own. I used this opportunity to secretly sell some of our property to buy the drugs I craved. My parents didn’t notice because they didn’t pay much attention to me until one day I was caught red-handed stealing maize from the store. Misinterpreting my actions, they believed they were not giving me enough money and extended their financial support.

At school, I developed a taste for parties where we could abuse drugs to our satisfaction. I even got a girlfriend who approached me at one of these parties, claiming she liked my character. We dated for a while until one Sunday, she came for a sleepover. The following Monday, she arrived at our first lesson eager to share her experience with her friends. “I gave him the chance, but he did not use it yesterday,” I overheard her saying. “He couldn’t do it because the drugs affected him badly,” she continued.

Realizing she was referring to our failed sexual encounter, I couldn’t stand the embarrassment. I wanted to be like everyone else, and that desire pushed me to stop doing drugs.