October 29, 2013


As written by Sasky Doo
                                                                                PUFF PUFF PASS
Puff, Puff, Pass. That’s what we say when we're two or more and sharing a joint. But I don't think I will be puffing or passing anytime soon. I've smoked my last blunt man. Made a promise I fully intend to keep because it’s a sad day when a mother catches her first child using……

And I was caught in the worst way. July 22nd, 2011. I’m alone at home. My father has gone on the job. Mom is at the store where she sells provisions. With the house to myself, and no light (Power Holding was holding onto power again), I am quickly bored. I think about going out, but it’s still early. Then I remember I have some weed leftover from the previous day. So, I roll up a really fat one and lock myself up in my toilet with my iPod on full volume.

I'm blazing freely, singing along with Fela, when over the blaring of my headphones and off-key voice; I hear banging on the door and my mother’s voice telling me to come out
. Shit, Fuck! I swear about ten times, confused. Thinking, should I come out? Of course you have to come out, you dumb prick! You can't stay locked in there forever. What am I going to tell her? Can she smell the smoke? Cigarettes, Cigarettes. That’s what I'll say.

So I come out, higher than Bob Marley, looking sheepish and face my mother. The look on her face breaks my heart; and through my dilated pupils I can see she already knows. I can't lie anymore because she’s crying. I hate seeing my mother cry man; and it’s worse because I know I am the cause of it.

I try to explain to her on bended knees; I beg her to forgive me. I’m not an addict, I say. This is the third time I'm doing this. I only do it when I'm frustrated. It helps take my mind off things. She looks at me from behind her tears. She wants to believe, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. So she asks me questions. Where did you get it from? I remain silent. You better start talking, she says. She repeats her question. And so I tell her; a guy sells the stuff a couple of streets away. How much? 100 Naira. My God, 100 Naira!

She is getting hysterical now. You want to ruin your life for just 100 Naira. Can’t you see what you are doing to yourself? You know this thing is dangerous. You watched the film they showed in your school. And yet you choose to smoke igbo…..IGBO! My God, what will I say? Why are you doing this to me? Why should it be me whose child is smoking igbo? Do you want to destroy your life?

The crying resumes and at this point, I am truly sorry. She probably sees this, so she’s begging me now. Please don’t ruin your life. Please! Stop following all these boys that you’re following. Even if you’re not an addict now, before you know it, you'll become one and be the next naked man living under the bridge. Is that what you want?

No, I say. So she makes me promise. Never to smoke igbo again. And I do. She says I must stop this; that it must be the last time. Do you need help? No, I say. I can handle it.

She’s quiet now. Then, I don’t know what to do. If I should tell your father, he’ll be so heartbroken. I don’t know if he can handle this. I don’t know if I can handle this. She cries some more. And I go to her. Mum, I promise. It will never happen again. Then I repeat the same excuses. Please don’t tell Daddy. I’m not an addict. I can stop anytime I want. Stop, she says. Please stop. For your sake. I won’t tell him, but please stop.

She has to go back to the store and so she leaves me again.

After a while, the “highness” wears off and I wonder if I had been hallucinating the whole time. But I go back to the toilet and see the remaining half of the joint. I flush it down and watch it swirl away. No you sucker, no hallucination. But the experience was surreal man!

By the way, I mean to keep that promise. Never to put my mother through such pain again. Too hard. For the both of us……

Guy na puff puff pass nah. Na you dey always disturb the sequence. I pass the joint back to my friend. He drags, inhales and then exhales. Dude, that’s a fucked up story!

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