Drug tales: An addict’s journey to recovery

Othman Bilali during the interview.

What you need to know:

Othman Bilali has not used drugs for two years. He has a job, a supportive family and good friends. But temptation is never far away. He wants to help other addicts, but first he wants us to feel compassion for those affected

For 15 years, Othman Bilali has experienced the highs and lows of dealing with alcohol and drugs. At the prime of the addiction, Bilali lost his slot in law school. That was seven years ago. Now, he is an activist campaigning against drugs in schools and communities. He shared his experience last week on KFM’s D’mighty Breakfast show.

His first remarks were, “By the time you realise you are doing something wrong, you are already hooked to it and it is hard to stop.”

Nurtured from school
For Bilali, it all started in 1999. “I was in Senior One at Busoga College Mwiri when the boys in higher classes would wake us up to smoke. They said this was a way of initiating us into the school,” says Bilali.

One of his best friends Mark Waniaye, a social worker, recalls the time they would be beaten or punched for coughing after puffing a cigarette.

“The bigger boys would come to the dormitory, with one of them positioned at the entrance on the lookout, says Waniaye. “They would offer us a cigarette but you had to make sure you do not cough or else you got a thorough beating.”

He adds that if you claimed to be religious and unwilling to smoke, the boys would beat you until you accepted to smoke. “When you learnt, then you would get peace because then you would ask for a cigarette freely.”

The ‘upgrade’
Struggling to fit in, Bilali felt smoking was the password to inclusion.

“The boys who used to smoke at school were the ‘cool guys’ and would get everything they wanted. I too wanted to be part of the group because they were the celebrities. I had to do what they did.

From the cigarette, I upgraded to alcohol despite the fact that I was coming from a staunch Muslim family. By the end of my Senior One, I was also doing drugs but with an intention of staying awake whenever I wanted to read.”

Bilali did his best to keep this raunchy lifestyle in check. “During the holidays, it was very hard for my parents to realise I was doing drugs because I came home on time and was a humble boy.”
This mask, however, did not last long as Bilal sank into the addiction.

“But in Senior Two, the other boys and I would sneak out of school to buy the drugs in Jinja Town. The people who sold the marijuana did not care what we did or even how old we were, provided we had the money. Even if you went in uniforms, they would sell you the drugs because they wanted to make money. They would only warn us not to go back there when we are putting on uniforms.”

Asked how he was able to identify the dealers, Bilali says, “When you were going to buy for the first time, you had to make sure you go with someone who knew them because if you went alone, they would think you were a spy and this was very risky as they could beat you severely.”

He adds, “The “cool guys” and I had made it a routine to escape out of the school that the administration felt the best alternative was to expel us. When I went back home, I told my parents that the teachers never liked me so they had expelled me.”

“They listened to my lie and took me to Kibuli Secondary School but I felt the money I was being given was little money because I had to buy drugs so I would steal books from the library, sell them on streets to get enough for my drugs.”

This habit earned him a suspension. “At Kibuli, I was suspended for stealing school books while in Senior Three third term, but since I was a bright student, I was allowed to sit exams on condition that I did not attend classes there.”
As a result, his father refused to enrol him in any school for Senior Four as he waited to sit for finals.

“My parents knew that I was doing drugs but they were living in denial. My father got me a counsellor in 2003 but I attended the sessions only because I had no alternative. I had not realised I had a problem and the sessions seemed useless. When my Senior Four results came back, I had scored aggregates 22.”

He adds, “My father thought it was the city that was making me wasted so he took me to Kiira College Butiki but I never attended classes. I wasted a whole year there. I had to repeat Senior Five at Mbarara High School and was able to score 22 points in my A-level. This earned me government sponsorship at the law school at Makerere University.” Unfortunately, he dropped out due drug addiction.

Waniaye says most addicts usually cut ties with their family because they feel misunderstood. He says at times they feel the family is standing in the way of getting high.

“Whenever his (Bilali) parents visited in Soroti (their home village), he would find a way not to go with them. He would opt to go alone so that he could have stop-overs to take his drug. From Kampala, he would stop in Mukono, Jinja and Iganga,” says Waniaye.

The peak

During the Senior Six vacation, Bilali expanded his sources of drugs in the city. To fund this vice, he and his friends set up a music video studio as an alternative source of income.

In 2006, he had to ask for a dead year because he could barely concentrate in class. “I asked for a dead year thinking that I would recover but I never returned. This time I left home and my father put all the blame on my mother and siblings. I stayed with the other boys in Kasenke and Naguru quarters and was never bothered about returning home.”

He adds, “In 2010 my father paid tuition at Islamic University In Uganda in Mbale where I enrolled in a financial management course but I dropped out due to drugs. The following year, my mother enrolled me at Uganda Christian University, Mbale Campus but still I did not study.”

turning point

Even when he relocated to Mbale, somehow he could not fight the addiction.

“I got in touch with other guys in Namatala who used to deal in second hand appliances. One time, they brought me a stolen camera so I was remanded to Malukhu Prison.

While in jail, Bilali became friends with prisoners whose sentences were about to end. These were allowed to move around freely, so they would bring us the drugs while we were in prison.

His father applied for bail for him after he had spent three months on remand. Bilali used the opportunity to make up with his family. Last year, he was taken to Butabika Mental Hospital for rehabilitation at the alcohol and drugs unit.

Perspective
According to Jane Mapenzi, a psychotherapist in addictions at Butabika hospital, Bilali, like any other addict, could not accept he had a problem at first but through motivation, he realised he needed help.

“At first it was hard for him to accept he had a problem and he kept on having re-occurrences especially whenever he had a depression or excited,” she says.

She adds, “Treatment involves counselling and managing the withdrawal syndrome the addict usually gets when they are off the drugs. They also lose appetite and their body system is usually messed up.”Treating addiction is very expensive especially if you are going to a private rehabilitation centre. Waniaye says being at the rehabilitation centre for six months can cost Shs2m.

Thankfully, for Bilali, his family catered for all these costs. He says after spending five months in rehabilitation, the medics were able to get him off drugs. Bilali now campaigns against drugs in schools and communities.

His parents were supportive and were able to bring him home despite the shame they had undergone.

“My parents have been very receptive and supportive. They are the reason I am alive. I am now back in school and I see the future ahead of me so bright,” says Bilali.
While Bilali was able to get his act together, many youngsters have not been so lucky.