Jacob's Story.*

Jacob is a whoonga user living on the streets of Scottburgh. This is his story.

I grew up in a small town called Illfracombe. staying with my granny. Basically I grew up not knowing my parents, my mother and my father. My mother was staying in KwaMashu, Section C. I was staying with my father for a time. My father was working at Sappi Saicor. I grew up as a baby with my mother, but my grandmother took me in and taught me the main values. So I grew up staying with my grandmother.

 I didn’t have any siblings. The only people I took for my brothers and sisters are my neighbours, because at that time I didn’t have any people around me to talk to. It was just me and my grandmother. She was a dentist at the time. Unfortunately now she has retired and stays at home. I must say I was better off financially than other children in my township. There was never a thing that I wanted that I never got. She also taught me the moral values and how you go about treating yourself in society. The main things she taught is respecting one another as citizens of the same community. The main thing was, on Sunday you had to go to church. That was the main priority at home. No matter what, you sick, you not sick, you have to go to church on Sunday. Also before eating supper or dinner you have  to pray; to be thankful for that small dinner you have because not all of us have that.

At the time I would say I didn’t have a male role model in my life. My father was there sometimes, but unfortunately he passed away while I was still young. That was in 2001 when I was 13. He used to come on the weekends just to see how I was doing and leave some small money for us. My granny needed some support especially as she was raising a child that was not hers. My father made it a priority to help out where he could. I didn’t really know my mother on a personal level.  I used to go their only during school holidays just to visit her and see how she’s doing you know. My grandmother was like my mother to me. My mother and my father they passed away in the same year-- 2001/2002.  I am still living with my grandmother, until she got sick of my nonsense, but unfortunately she is coming to the final stages of her life, she is very old.

My granny put me in a nice school. I went to one of these model C schools. That was a beginning of a new era whereby  all people were, as you know, all as one. The end of apartheid. Around 1994. When people were able to live together. This was my first experience of white people. I did pretty  good at school. I was always an open person willing to make friends. I was quite a friendly chap and had many friends at school, of different races, male, female. I went out of my way just to acquire friends. I felt like, the more you get to interact with different people the more you learn about different cultures you know? I felt like I fitted in quite well. I was there up until std 3 and then I moved on to the senior Warner Beach. Senior primary school. As I graduated on to higher schools I came to Kingsway. That’s when the peer pressure started kicking in. That’s also the time I lost my parents. I was like 13/14. I was pretty much young. It all came at once.  The peer pressure, trying to fit in. I was already starting to smoke cigarettes. Trying to be cool and hanging out with the cool kids,  you know. After that I graduated to stronger stuff. I started using marijuana. From marijuana I used mandrax. At first I did all my smoking during the holidays. I would smoke so much during the holidays that when I went back to school they would see a different me, like this guy has changed. It didn’t affect my school work at first, but eventually it ended up, you know, affecting my school work. I was such a bright chap, I was doing well. I even have certificates, you know, just to show how bright I was at school. I got an award for artist of the year in 2004. I also became a prefect. Class representative they called it, a person who they look up to in class. If the other students they got problems they can go to them. I was always the sort of guy you can come to. I was always open, willing to give advice. I was a caring chap you know, only to find that when I started using all that changed. I started becoming greedy and selfish.

I think  a lot about this kind of stuff. Why did I have the need to use, why couldn’t I stop when I had the chance, when I saw what it was doing to me.  Its not that I wanted to use, it’s just that I felt I needed to use. It started with the pain from my parents. For me as a youngster it was too much to cope with. Even though I was not close to them, they were around. And then they were gone. There was a need to try and remove the pain. Also the peer pressure, these all came together. Then it eventually became so much part of life, a habit, a need to get goefed. I couldn’t do it on my own. I needed a substance just to help me get through the day. I found condolences  by using these substances.

OK so we used to run from the school. Take a period break, jump the fences. I can’t nail it to one year but I was around std 8, std 9. I had started dagga around std 6… It wasn’t a big thing in my life, just now and again, but it progressed to such an extent whereby I couldn’t feel. I was immune to the dagga, so I started looking for something much stronger. I ended up smoking mandrax. I found that mandrax too can give me the goef I needed. But at school I was still a weekend smoker, maybe during Fridays we’d start, put together R50 with other guys. We wouldn’t go to school on Fridays. We’d meet by the rank. Buy some dope, alcohol. I was also too deeply into alcohol to think of my future.

You know I never thought of alcohol as a drug , until I came into NA. All this time I was drinking too, it was so common to me, that is why I haven’t mentioned it. It was like water.  To tell the truth alcohol was the first thing that came upon my lips. I do not even remember when. It was always there. Before cigarettes, because when I started smoking cigarettes I was already drinking. Then came dagga …then mandrax… then heroin.

Lucky enough I was able to finish school. I matriculated, before I started smoking heroin.  Still in spite of all my nonsense I got a university pass: 3 distinctions. I know that with my matric I can study, get a good job. If only I can clear my mind and focus on what I really want , hopefully I will succeed in life.

When I left school I didn’t do very much. This was 2007. I was 19. I wanted to have a gap year. At that time I was smoking mandrax. I went to visit one of my relatives in the Eastern Cape. When I came back a friend of mine told me there was a new drug in town.. it was called whoonga.

I’d started smoking it at an earlier age but I didn’t know. After I’d used all these substances, it came as a disguise. I was always wary of these higher drugs. I knew about cocaine, crack, crystal meth.  I never thought I would do such a thing. I used to stick to the dagga, And occasionally mandrax. But it was to easy to start with whoonga, because they used to put it on top of the dagga in a joint and you wouldn’t know you smoking it.  Now they have changed, they put it on the foil. You burn it underneath, you chase it. But back then they used to smoke a zol. So you think you smoking dagga but you get whoonga also. So I started smoking as a disguise. It took me a while to realise I wasn’t smoking dagga. I was smoking whoonga now. It was actually the drug dealer. He was trying to spread the drug on the youth. He would sell rolled joints and not tell us there was whoonga in it. He knows the youth is wary of this thing, but they will use dagga. So he used the dagga as a disguise.  I only found out at a later stage this is what I was really smoking, only to find, hey this thing is not really that bad like they say. So I continued to smoke. Instead of stopping like I should have, I just continued. That was my downfall. I carried on. I found that it was helping me. It would lessen the pain I was having. Eventually I got to the point where I was using it openly. My friends started knowing that I was smoking it.  It’s a long while since I started. Ten years. Its too long.  That’s why I go to NA meetings because I want the help.

I am a person who can’t control my emotions. Even if I am wrong, I won’t admit I am wrong. I tend not to see I am wrong. I tend to start fighting with the person who tells me I am wrong. So that’s why I came to be on the streets. It’s not that my granny doesn’t love me, but the thing is we fought. We fought because of my addiction. Not wanting to listen to her, while she was telling me the truth about my addiction. Before that we used to get on fine, I would wake up, do my chores, sweep the yard, rake the leaves. It is something that was programmed in me, even when I was using, even if I had a hangover. I knew that when I woke up in the morning I had to do something. Just to make my granny happy. It was a daily thing, especially  during the weekend if I had nothing else to do. I’d do my laundry, sweep the yard. But it got to a point where I started lacking. I was so lazy, I didn’t do anything. The only thing that came to mind was I was going to get my next fix. And then I ended up stealing from her. That was another thing that started us fighting and not seeing eye to eye. We fought to a point where she threatened to get a restraining order. This is also when my life of crime started. I became regular in the cells, in the courts. For a long time I was in this life of crime, stealing, housebreaking, doing all of these crimes just to feed my bad habit. Not that I was doing it to enrich myself. I was doing it to support this habit.  So I ended up changing friends, not hanging out with the friends I grew up with. I started hanging out with other groups, people I met in prison. People who were gangsters. I started becoming very resistant to my granny’s words, very rebellious. she always taught me values, but know I was like, let me not listen to her, let me do it my own way and see if it works out. And sometimes, you know like 88%, I came out right, but only to find out the other times that what she was saying was really true. Eventually the road that you take, while you look at it, it looks like a nice road, but in the end it leads you to hell.

Eventually the law caught up to me.  You know you forget that every time you do a crime you leave your finger prints behind. They eventually traced me with my finger prints. So they locked me up for house breaking. We had stolen some flat screen TVs. Well I was sentenced for 8 years.  I spent 3 years and 6 months inside. That was 2013. Anyway in prison I had to go through the rosta. You can get it in prison but it is expensive and there’s not many ways you can acquire it because you are always locked up. I ended up joining one of the gang. It’s something you have to do to survive. But even outside, I was already moving with people who were in the gang, so I already had the experience, the knowledge. I knew the basics so it was easy. Also at the same time I was locked up I found I had TB, so I saw the doctor and I told him what substance I had been using, so she gave me some medicine and put me in the clinic. I don’t know what it was, it wasn’t methadone, but it did help me sleep. After 2 weeks of hell, the pains were all gone. I had quit completely. I had no more rosta, no more withdrawal symptoms. For the whole rest of my prison sentence, I wasn’t using and I came out clean. I thought I can live like this. But when I came out was when the trouble started, when I was truly tested, because I was back in society, back surrounded by drug users, back around people I had left behind, still using. I only came back to the same community I know. They don’t teach us in prison how to stay away from drugs. They should teach NA to the prisoners coming out. This is when I found I am not as strong as I thought I was. When I got out I tried to find some work. Unfortunately people are not willing to hire ex-convicts you know? So I ended up going back to square one, to using. If only I had just stayed there for longer, or had some kind of program when I came out. Or found Na. I would have stopped completely.

So I went to back stay with my granny. At first she was happy to see me, but when I started using, this time she had enough. She basically just kicked me out. Even now she’s willing to take me back, if I can just stop this stuff, say I’m sorry. So I been living on the streets from March, not a long time. I’ve been out on the street before, but it’s the first time I’ve really been living on the streets, you know, not able to go home, sleeping outside, having to struggle for food, having to struggle for everything, taking a shower. I even still have my room outside at home that is calling me back. You know the thing that surprises me the most, she had chucked me out of the house but when I went back she was always willing to make me a nice warm plate of food. It shows it’s not that she doesn’t want me, it’s just that what I was doing was against her morals. She even tried to send me to a rehab facility. That side, near Durban. Its like a mission, not a real rehab. it doesn’t really help drug addicts but you can go there if you got nowhere to stay. I stayed there for 2 weeks in 2011.

Anyway so one day I heard a group of guys who are drug addicts talking, telling me there is a group that helps addicts. I also used to see the guys, where they used to gather, in the churches, having their meeting. I always wondered, what is going on at these meetings. So I approached another guy and asked him what is going on at these meetings. So I find out they help people like me in this way and that way, and I wanted to experience it myself. So one day out of the blue I thought, you know what, maybe I’ll drop whatever I’m doing, just take the time and go to that group. I just went by myself. The first time I went I came late, they had already started the meeting. I apologised and sat down, and I listened to what they had to say. It took me a while but I came to see, I came to understand. It’s basically just other addicts expressing whatever is going on in their lives and how they have found a way to live without drugs. They call it the 12 steps. It’s all about sharing. One addict trying to help another addict by sharing their experiences.

I have wanted to stop this thing ever since I came out of jail.  its just that I haven’t had the courage,  just to tell myself, you know what, this time enough is enough. I attempted so many times just to relapse, go back , start again using. I don’t know how, but eventually I have to call an end to this. I want to learn the steps of NA so I can stay clean this time. I want to go back to school and finish my studies. I know it’s going to be a long journey for me. I can’t see myself living the rest of my  life as an addict. I have a vision, things I want to do in life. It can be an easy journey if only I can quit this habit and instead live a positive and healthy lifestyle. I know I can only do it with the help of NA and of others who are willing to help me out, because they can see that I really do need, do want to stop. But sometimes you do need to ask for help, you can’t do it on your own. I am lucky. I still have my granny, I have a matric, I have skills, I am a good artist. Other people in my position have nothing, Also with my story I can help other people in this position. I will keep trying, I have not lost faith. I also want to thank you, and the other guys for giving me this faith back, for helping me out where you can. All I ask is don’t lose faith in me. Thank you for letting me share my story. I hope it can help someone else who is suffering.

We are trying to raise money to send Jacob to rehab. He has been coming to our meetings regularly for about two months now and impressed us with his willingness. This will cost around R2200 for six weeks. Any contributions towards this, no matter how small, will be appreciated. If you are willing and able to help please contact me on my facebook page :( Addiction Recovery Movement South Africa )  and I will send banking details. Thank you.

*This is not his real name.