Life experience: Evils of drug addiction

I have been trying different remedies to upsurge my stalling mind into thinking again and as far as I am concerned, my project can only be deemed as a failure.  

My quest started with glue sniffing which, before I realized it, hardened the grey matter inside my big skull into a baseball-like knuckle which could only fantasize stones as eggs and flies as something pleasant and edible. Technically, glue succeeded in transforming me into a high-tech waste management consultant with the big dirty and oily sack stack on my back in my daily zombie walk along the heaps of Ngara.

If you are still deliberating how bad glue sniffing is, wonder no more because the green devil herb will make Gilbert Deya’s Miracle Children actually seem miraculous. It made me eat two kilograms of Luhya Ugali with nothing but a liter of water as stew and feel invincible like little David and tough as two Yokozunas. I walked around carrying a three month calf as a show of mighty and flexing my Erick Omondi’s muscles to whoever cared to pay attention.

When all attempts went futile, I took a little ride to Mukuru Kayaba to have a taste of Giza. The trouble with this approach is that I saw constellations of dancing stars at the very first sip of the concoction. After two or three cups of Giza, my head was touching my heels quite easily and my rarely taking mouth was full of words which didn’t sit well with Njogu and that’s how I ended up in River Road clinic with a broken jaw.

I hope Mario Puzo’s fat novel sitting at my lap and the steaming coffee prepared by my politician wife will do the trick of jumpstarting my jamming medulla oblongata.