I began using hard drugs shortly after completing my Junior WAEC at Government College Secondary School. It started when I was introduced to a friend of my father’s, Alhaji Garba, whose son offered me my first cigarette. From cigarettes, I progressed to Indian hemp and other hard substances. > As our addiction worsened, we often found ourselves broke. This led us to begin stealing from our parents and relatives. Eventually, we became involved in armed robbery. One of the most tragic events was when we went to a village called Zabarmari in Jere Local Government Area, where we committed a heinous crime,we killed an entire family of seven and stole ten million naira from them. > That terrible act led to our arrest and sentencing to life imprisonment. Today, as I reflect on my past, I deeply regret every decision that brought me here. If I had never gotten involved with drugs, my life would have taken a completely different path. > > I am sharing my story so that others, especially young people, can learn from my mistakes and avoid the devastating consequences of drug abuse.

Kaltum was a single mother in a rural town. She worked two jobs: cleaning and babysitting. She was proud of her kids and did her best. But after her partner left, she felt lonely, overwhelmed. At the local bar at kasuwan fara, someone offered pills to help her sleep, to help her unwind. She took them. Then more. She moved on to prescription opioids illegally, then heroin. She told herself it was temporary. But the pills became the begging calls, the debt, the withdrawal. Her mental state deteriorated. Nights, she couldn’t sleep. She hallucinated shadows. She believed people were talking about her. One evening, she came home to find her ten-year-old son crying because she hadn’t picked him up from school drugs, which made her lose track of time. She yelled at him, hit him, and told him to get out of her house. He ran away; she chased him, thinking he was trying to leave her forever. In that moment, full of panic, full of withdrawal and rage, she grabbed a kitchen knife. She lunged. In her altered state, she believed she was defending herself, that he was the betrayer. She stabbed her son. He died before the ambulance came. Kaltum didn’t remember all of it clearly later. She was arrested. The community was shocked—how a mother could do such a thing. In trial, testimony was given about her addiction, about how heroin caused psychosis, and emotional unbalance. But the verdict came: guilty of second‑degree murder. Kaltum is in prison. Her children,if any survived,live with relatives. She writes letters every week asking for forgiveness. The tragedy is told in her name, as caution: addiction is not just a disease of the user,it can destroy those they love most.

Aja was a young man in a big city of Shehuri nose, maiduguri. He grew up in a neighborhood where many people used tramadol, codeine syrups, even harder drugs like cocaine. As a teenager, Aja was ambitious,he wanted to be an engineer. But college fees, combined with family debts, pushed him to drop out. He got involved in small‑time dealing just to make ends meet. He needed funding for his own drug habits too,a vicious cycle. One night, after using codeine heavily mixed with other substances, he was with two friends who owed money to someone. They planned to get money by breaking into a house. Aja was high and disoriented. They forced their way in. The homeowner woke up. Aja's friend pulled out a gun. The homeowner begged. There was shouting. In the chaos, Aja, believing the man was about to kill them, grabbed the gun and shot him,not sure if the death was intentional or accidental. The man died. After the killing, Aja fled. He was arrested later. In court, psychiatrists testified that heavy substance abuse had impaired his judgement; the mix of codeine and alcohol had made him hallucinatory. The court considered manslaughter instead of murder. Aja was sentenced to many years in prison. His mother visits him and weeps. He regrets deeply that in trying to survive addiction and debt, he took someone else’s life. The memories haunt him each night. Sometimes he wonders: if I had never taken that first pill, if I had asked for help sooner, maybe none of this would have happened.