Risky behaviour can be defined as any action that may result into severe consequences. These behaviours are potentially harmful to one’s self and others. For example, substance use, i.e cigarettes and marijuana smoking, heroin, cocaine, crack, alcohol, prescribed drugs like pethidine, morphine, ketamine and others have got severe effects like lung cancer, liver cancers, liver cirrhosis, psychosis (mental illness),addiction, cardiovascular problems, kidney failure, to mention but a few, the ultimate being death.
However, even before death, most people go through a series of depressive situations such as, loss of jobs, broken relationships, rape, imprisonment, acquiring HIV/AIDS, among others. Such situations may leave one permanently scarred for life be it physically or emotionally.
Janes Story ….
When I met Jane, she was a struggling young mother to be, living with grave physical and emotional scars of addiction at her tender age. She was so distressed, irritable, agitated, withdrawn, with “Turkies” and craving for either a sachet of waragi (local potent gin) or a joint of “weed” (marijuana).
Jane was crying and in despair. I sat next to her thinking to myself that maybe I could help. “You are so beautiful, your husband must be the happiest,” I told her. She retorts with great bitterness, “I wish.’’ I told myself, I had to find out the cause of that behaviour.
Holding her hand, I reassured her of God’s love for her and how all of us have problems.
“Oh God, I am 18 years old, home less, HIV positive and pregnant with a baby whose father I don’t know,” she dropped the bombshell.
“How did you become pregnant?” I asked.
“A few years ago, at 15 years, in my ordinary level in one of the big schools in Kampala, I joined this clique of two girls and four
boys. This clique was well known in school as the celebs, using marijuana, and waragi (spirits) though in hiding or after escaping from school. I was the kind of person who was shy, I couldn’t easily express myself yet so beautiful, smart in class and well behaved for I come from a strong Christian family. These people initiated me into using drugs, which I found exciting, fun, soothing, strong,
and always felt relaxed as I was able to do anything because of the good feeling and elation,” she narrated.
“I totally got hooked, never to get out. My performance at school deteriorated. I started sleeping around with various men, both young and sugar daddies to support my drug addiction. Being beautiful, I was a magnet to men, which was fun.”
“I started serial fun dating, to show my pals how experienced a player I was, with an intention of “detoothing” (getting money from the opposite sex). I could sleep with over four men a day just for a few pennies, money I was to use to fund/sponsor the next binge. Stealing and conning became part of me.”
“I was expelled from different schools. Every new term meant a change of school. My performance totally deteriorated, which made me fall out with family. I am now homeless.I stay in the ghetto.”
“Oh my God, currently I smoke three joints of weed and take five sachets of waragi a day.”
“All that?” I asked.
“Do you know what it means being homeless, HIV positive and pregnant with a thing whose father you don’t know? Do you know how it feels?” she asked. “Sincerely, I can understand how you feel,” I said, holding her hand for assurance.
“A few months ago, as usual, I took my stuff and blacked out,” she narrated, adding that she woke up to men gang raping her in
a shack.
“Did you know them? Did you report them to the police?” I asked.
“No, I didn’t, for I thought it would be okay.”
“Are they responsible for the pregnancy?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. It’s either them or anyone else, for I have been having one night stands with different guys in the ghetto,” she said.
“Sometimes you get up the next day, with a very dirty and stinking chap… but what to do! It’s done but you feel so filthy, resentful,
ashamed and guilty for what happened. I use drugs to cope and forget it all. Unfortunately, finding myself in a similar situation again, I have tried to quit several times but failed,” she confessed.
“Recently I fell sick and was rushed to hospital, tests were done and I was given the bad news. I can’t go back home. Dad will kill me… I need your advice,” she opened up to me.
Taking Her To Rehab ….
“Do you want to recover?” I asked. “Badly,” she responded. “Tried counselling?” I asked. “No,” she answered. “Tried rehab?” I asked, to which she also answered “No.” I promised to take her to a treatment centre the next day but she never came. I bumped into her
a few weeks later, very high on alcohol and marijuana, beaten up with bruises all over the body.
Approaching her, she apologised and asked me to take her to rehab there and then. At the treatment centre (rehab) she was tested and treatment commenced. She escaped from the treatment centre after two days, and went back to square one. I bumped into her again, this time motivated to recover.
I took her back to the centre where she was treated and counselled.
Jane is now a productive young woman, accepted in the family, a mother to a son and a shop attendant in one of the shops in the city centre, embracing single motherhood. She is still working out the recovery programme, attending self-help groups like AA (Alcoholic Anonymous) and NA (Narcotics Anonymous) and going for reviews in the treatment centre.
Just like Jane, many of us are still hooked. Others in the struggle of recovery, which is good. Jane survived with dire
consequences, but others never live to enjoy recovery because they become psychotic (mental illness), get permanent physical
damages, and others die. So let’s help those still bound by chemical substances to get their freedom back.