From the jaws of death to giving hope

By Sunday Magazine Writer

"Curiosity killed the cat," says Khalid Abdalla. After 11 years of using hard drugs, he would know.

One puff while in Form One, to ‘find out the feeling’ got him hooked from his teenage to his late 20s.

Not even his brushes with death, imprisonment due to violent robberies to satisfy his craving or counsel from his mother could get him to stop.

It took the death of his sister to change him.

"She got sick, died, was buried and nobody told me. I had been on the beach for two days getting high on drugs when all that happened," he says.

It then dawned on him his family had cast him out.

Former drug addict Khalid Abdalla with his wife and children. Photos: Standard Writer

"I cried because I knew there was nothing left for me. If family gives up on you, there is nothing left," he says.

A resident of Kisauni in Mombasa, Abdalla has been sober for seven years.

Though still fighting with withdrawal symptoms, the 35-year-old man has become a campaigner against drug abuse in Coast Province.

"Joining the ‘narcotic society,’ is as simple as one plus one, but quitting is as complicated as rocket science. Perhaps, death is the easiest and fastest path to quitting," says Abdalla, now an outreach worker with the Reachout Centre Trust, a rehabilitation centre.

Many of Abdalla’s friends have since succumbed to drugs. Some died of the negative effects while others were killed during violent robberies. Another lot is in prison.

"Drug addicts live in a different world with an isolated lifestyle — a lifestyle one cannot share with others unless they are drug abusers. Users lose control of their lives," says Abdalla.

According to his brother Kaim Muhammed, Abdalla had become a burden to the family and the entire society.

Itchy fingers

"He sold anything he came across including umbrellas, household utensils, electronic devices and food. To some extend, our mother started hiding money either inside a stove or under a microwave. But with time, my brother discovered and stole it,"

He says the family has spent more Sh500,000 on Abdalla’s rehabilitation.

"We took him to three different rehabilitation centres with no success. Little did we know that he needed former addicts to give him a new lease of life," says Kaim.

Abdalla has put his life in order and has worked to buy himself a house.

"He has also gained weight. From less than 40kg to more than 80kg," says Kaim.

Also at the Reachout rehabilitation camp is Abdulaziz Adam, 49. He had taken drugs for 15 years until six years ago when he was enrolled in the recovery programme.

"When I took the first jab of heroin, I did not know that it was the beginning of my downfall. For 15 years, I identified myself with pick-pocket thieves, violent robbers, conmen and all sorts of criminals without hope in life," says Adam.

He regrets because he has been overtaken by events.

"I have just started picking up the pieces. Younger men started families and got children. I could not even think of having a girlfriend," he says.

Like Abdalla, he is still fighting craving especially when he meets friends he did drugs with.

According to Rashid Mohamed, the Reachout project co-ordinator and a counsellor, most addicts of hard drugs never recover fully.

Life long process

"They will always be recovering for the remaining part of their lives," he says.

He says rehabilitation is easier if former users recruit and counsel current addicts.

"Former addicts form an important part of our team. It is through them we can access more users, befriend and convince them to begin the rehabilitation programme without struggle," says Mohamed.

Abdalla points out that addiction to heroin, cocaine and other hard drugs is costly.

"It is expensive because the drugs are expensive. For example, one kilogrammme of heroin sells for not less than Sh2 million. The cost, he says, turns users to violent robbers.

This kind of lifestyle earned Abdalla a nickname — Chicken Baso. The word Baso was derived from the word Soba, Swahili for sober.

"I was a chicken thief, thus people used to make fun of me. They said chicken sobered me up," he says.

The consequences

Abdalla’s journey to heroin addiction began with a single puff of bhang –– cannabis sativa — in Form One. Then a friend introduced him to Brown Sugar.

"I sniffed Brown Sugar for four years until another friend introduced me to the White Crest – Heroin – which I injected for seven years on daily basis. Yet this had to be sustained using stolen money and property," he says.

The counsellors say stealing and selling household properties is a common habit with drug addicts.

"This is why most drug addicts have been rejected by their families. But the more they are pushed away, the more they sink into the deadly behaviour," he says.

Adam says even after six years under rehabilitation, some of his family members still avoid him.

According to Abdalla, the best way is to keep asking for forgiveness.

"I regret everything I did and as part of the recovery process, I have made a list of all people I wronged to apologise."

He confesses he sustained several injuries during violent robbery and has been arrested many times.

Abdalla plans to expand his campaigns to reach more users.

"It all starts with you, if you are an addict. First, you must admit you are powerless without drugs. Then decide you need to regain control of your life," he says.