I had just moved out of my parents' house and was sharing a room with my ‘friend’. I had no idea he smoked weed, despite his suspicious movements and signature weed scent (abi na ‘odour’?). Barely two weeks after moving in with him, my worst fears were confirmed as he started bringing home his weed-smoking buddies and they would occassionally roll a wrap and smoke it right there in the room or mix the weed with beans or spagehtti. Being a very curious person, I always wondered what made them happy after smoking, so I decided to find out for myself. Wrong move.
It was a very hot day in February (a Saturday, I think it was), my friend was out as usual. I searched everywhere for his stash but couldn't find it so I decided to go and get mine. I arrived the weed joint all sweaty and nervous, half expecting to get mugged but nobody seemed to be aware of my presence there, the people there were all on different planets save one person. I concluded that the only normal-looking fellow present had to be the seller so I approached him and the following conversation ensued.
Me: “How far?”
Weed seller: “I dey.”
Me: “I wan buy weed.”
Weed seller: “How many parcel?”
Me: “Parcel ke? No oo, na just small I need!”
Weed seller: *laughs really hard* “Bolo leleyi sha!”
Apparently, a parcel of weed is a small wrap. I didn't know that. I thought it was something very large. I gave him ?1000 and he gave me a tiny wrap of weed with a white paper, and I was suprised when he gave me ?950 change. I couldn't believe weed was that cheap.
On my way home, I decided not to smoke the weed but to mix it with beans because I thought that it will be better that way. Another wrong move. I cooked beans and added the entire parcel of weed, ate it and called my friend. I said to him, “Ogbeni, I just ate weed oo and nothing happened to me. This one that you people will eat and be feeling funky, I don chop am oo.” “Ehen, you be strong man oo,” he replied.
I decided to take a quick nap before doing laundry. I woke up after about 20 minutes on the floor. I began to hit my head on the floor, and I couldn't stop. My heartbeat was very loud and fast, everything was extra bright and extra loud. After a few minutes of head banging, I was able to get up from the floor.
I felt as if i had just gained access to a part of my mind that I never knew existed previously, it was scary and cool at the same time. I could feel the blood flowing in my veins. I felt so uncomfortable in the room, it felt like I was in an oven. Suddenly, a voice in my head whispered, “Ogbeni, bo aso e joo”. It was asking me to strip, so I took my clothes off. Again, the voice said, “Oya, sare!” A command to run. At this point, I realised that the weed had taken effect so I decided to take a bath to see if it would calm me down, but the water felt so hot on my skin, so hot that I ran out of the bathroom.
I called my friend to see if he could help me make sense of what was going on but he laughed at me. He asked me the quantity of weed I took and I told him I had eaten an entire parcel. He said, “Guyyyyy, you don eff up! If you no sleep in the next 30 mins, you go mad oo! Go chemist make you go explain yourself.”
By this time, things had escalated. I had a severe itch at the back of my head that wouldn't go away no matter how hard I scratched and I was convinced that the beating in my chest was an evil spirit that could only be killed with a punch. I went quickly to my neighbour, Champion, and asked him to punch my chest as hard as he could. He hissed and walked away. Apparently, he was sick of seeing the weed users in the neighbourhood act in similarly crazy ways.
The voice in my head returned, asking me to punch my own chest. I obliged several times but there was no difference. The house was getting hotter, the voice in my head was getting louder, the itch in my head was getting worse, and the evil spirit in my chest was getting louder. Once again, the voice ordered me to run and this time I actually took off. When I ran out into the sun, I was overcome by chills, but that didn't stop me from running like Usain Bolt.
I wound up at a pharmacy, barefooted. I told the attendant that I had a severe headache and needed something to make me sleep immediately. He gave me the drug which I chewed right there in his presence. Next, I asked him to give me a drug to deal with the evil spirit in my chest. That was when he realised something was wrong with me and chased me out.
I got back home and tried to sleep but my thumping heart wouldn't let me, so I ran out of the house again, this time to a nurse in the area. She asked me why I didn't have any shoes on and I told her that Jackie Chan had taken my shoes. When was I was finally able to explain my situation to her, She took me in, tied something around my elbow and gave me an injection. I passed out immediately. I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst kind of hunger I had ever felt in my life. I proceeded to eat a whole loaf of Butterfield bread in one sitting without butter or tea.
I came home to a hero's welcome, my friend told me that I may not be cut out for weed, but that I could use it again just to be sure. The following day, when I was finally alone in the house, I packed my bags and like the Biblical prodigal son, returned home to my parents. It's been a few years since that experience but the lesson I learnt is an unforgettable one. My curiosity hasn't gotten me in trouble again and I have since changed my circle of friends.