By Ibraheem Daramy
Rodrigo Duterte was president of the Philippines from 2016 – 2022. He came into office when the country almost got declared a narco state – drug lords ran amock in major cities across the country. Unlike Haiti today, where the state has given in to the drug barons, Duterte devised means some rights activists described as unorthodox to rein in the drug cartels. By the time he left office, he made sure his successor would have the drug issue less of his priorities. That man has to endure the worst of criticisms in order to sanitise the streets of Manila. With a strong political will, a lot more could be achieved.
Few years ago, Guinea Bissau was declared a narco state because of her unstable political system, it was such a paradise it became a hub for the distribution of cocaine, heroin, etc. etc. But today, seeing my beloved Sierra Leone being touted as exporter of Kush into other countries in the subregion does not make me feel proud to hoist my national flag.
In late December last year, I was at a function organised by the education office in Bombali. The Deputy Minister of Basic and Senior Secondary Education, Emilie Kadiatu Gogra, was guest of honour. She left me with something when she encourage parents and guardians to stop making sweeping comparisons among their children or wards. She also said all those smoking Kush should be treated as victims. On that very day also, there was a senior bureaucrat of the ministry in attendance – what he told us just about woke the beast in me. He said his teenage daughter was forced into smoking the dreaded Kush on the night of her matriculation in one of the public universities late last year. It didn’t only stopped there, she also lost her innocence that fateful night.
When the Kush thing began, I and a few others were quick on our blocks to call out those on the supply chain. By then, the network was struggling, so nipping it was never going to cost much. But like the man whose daughter was deflowered on the night of her matriculation, courtesy of Kush, he was so assured of the type of upbringing his girl had. Another example is also a very close friend who works for the ministry of education. His son, 23, was in his 3rd year reading political science at the University of Sierra Leone when he got hooked and never cut loose, until his demise two months on.
I watch on a daily basis when serving personnel of the Sierra Leone Police and Republic of Sierra Leone Armed Forces visit Kush joints, some to feel high, others to collect hush money. In fact there is enough evidence to prove Kush is sold in their barracks. We have dedicated three weeks of our regular weekly radio talk show Media Junction to the effects of this substance. The other day I even threatened to walk into the District Security Committee (DISEC) in Bombali, and Provincial Security Committee (PROSEC) superintended by the Office of National Security (ONS), to call them out for not doing anything about the menace. Given all four of us in the program are parents, and most importantly civic minded, we cannot afford to be indifferent to something that has surpassed crisis level. Whatever the reason our authorities are holding out into declaring Kush a state of health emergency, I wouldn’t know. During our last program, we had Sinneh Kamara, head of the central morgue in Freetown, to paint a picture of the number of bodies he receives whose deaths are associated to the smoking of Kush. He told us the numbers today are far higher than Ebola and COVID-19 combine.
We can make a massive difference if we are all truthful to our call to action – we just need to disrupt the supply chain. Information regarding the magnitude of the problem as well as the key players is all out there.
