Cocaine Made Him Eat Dog Mess Yet He Can’t Let Go

Aug 22, 2010 News

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By Michael Benjamin

Scenario # One: A concerned mother tells her husband that she is upset about her son smoking marijuana. She is so upset that she takes a double dose of prescribed sleeping pills.
Scenario # Two: a young man comes home from a stressful day at his high-pressure job and drinks a six pack of Carib beers to help him relax. A report on Capital News catches his attention. It is a report of a local cocaine bust. He thinks to himself, “Those people who abuse drugs are such a problem to our society.”
By now you would have realised where I am heading. Both principals were voicing their concern about drug abuse but, apparently quite unknowingly, were engaged in the same vice.
Drug abuse has risen to unimaginable proportions and it seems as though the authorities are at their wits end to curtail such abuses. Ever since the unfortunate 911 tragedy, the restrictions at ports of entry in most countries have been tightened. In Guyana, law abiding citizens are comforted that ‘Big brother is watching’ at our major port of entry and exit yet, as the calypsonian sang “somebody making de cocaine pass.”
The uninitiated will obviously want to know, why do people use drugs? While there is a genetic argument that supports one’s desire for drugs, the scientists are still studying people’s genetic makeup in the hope of ascertaining what makes some people abuse drugs.
During research for a long paper titled ‘Drug Addiction’ in one of my minor courses at the University of Guyana, I was required to view the movie ‘Traffic’ and submit a report on a synopsis of the theme.
If you had seen that movie you would have understood the repugnance I felt for high ranking officials who misused their powers to conduct a thriving business in the drug trade.
It scraped away at my heart to observe the man with the ‘spliff’ or ‘joint’ being sent away for a lengthy time, while the kingpins and lords continued to narcotise nations with total immunity from the justice system.
I am not quite certain what inspired our lecturer, Daam Barker to invite a group of recovering addicts from the Phoenix Drug Rehabilitation Center, Mon Repos ECD to share their experiences with us.
The session was informative and really opened my eyes to the ills of illicit drug use. The tales were sordid enough, with each member of the group reciting the challenges faced while valiantly attempting to stay clean.
Apart from the dismal recitations, some members of the group recited the ingenuous ways they employed to feed their habit. Space does not permit me to relate some of these tales but believe me, when an addict sets out to get a smoke, come hell or high water, he will get it. One member of the group made a definitive statement,
“Once you touch cocaine, you are hooked for life.” He then announced that after living clean for 10 years (yes, 10 years), he had suffered a relapse. At that time, my son was merely six years old. As soon as I reached home I put him on my knee and discussed the adverse effects of cocaine and other illicit drugs, while advising him not to touch it — ever! Today, some five years later, my son looks me in the eye and pronounces. “Not me dad, I would never touch that stuff.”
One of the ironies in life is the man who, because he is not getting enough money, turns to drugs to abate his frustration. I speak with junkies and most of them feed a thousand dollars a day habit. Ironically, the problem started because the addicted person was not getting money and so became frustrated.
I do not like junkies! They prey on unsuspecting victims with classical lies that would make lawyers blush. Yet these people experience difficulties talking their way into a decent, honest job. The depth of this problem cannot be ventilated in just one article, so I have decided to continue researching the topic so as to foster a deeper perspective.
Notwithstanding this, I cannot forget the tale of a very good friend that had been transformed from a decent, law abiding citizen into a conniving and dishonest junkie.
He stared at me with forlorn, pain-laden eyes and I could sense the earnestness and frustration in his personage. “Mike, I been smoking foh years now; nuff people talk to me fo stop but I can’t do it. I been in jail till I sick but as soon as I come out I gone back pon de white lady.”
When I last saw Peter (not his real name), he was a healthy good-looking man on the verge of success. He owned a car and lived in a beautifully furnished apartment.
The sweetest, most sophisticated girls tumbled over each other to be in his company.
Now, as I stared at the pitiless soul before me, adorned in rags, face listless, I was appalled and dumbstruck. This is what cocaine did to you. The drug stripped its user of his dignity, self respect, hope, and come to think of it, the few pieces of clothing that once covered his back.
Yet amidst this stark and frightening reality, people continue to be trapped into the abyss of drug use while being reduced to nothing, being stoned, spat upon and virtually condemned as scum of the earth.
As I talked to my friend, more details of his sordid life unfolded. “You know Mike, cocaine made me eat dog mess.” He read my knitted brow and continued “You know how stale dog dung does get white after a time?”
I nodded.
“Well I tek it foh cocaine and push it in me mouth,” he intimated.
This had to be the lowest of all lows yet my friend experienced grave difficulties abandoning the habit. As the saying goes ‘a hint to beneba mek quashiba tek note.’ People lef de white lady alone; It gon mek yo eat dog dung!

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