RECOVERY IS HARD; REGRET IS HARDER- A short story describing the effects of Drug Abuse.

The sun rose early that morning, and the birds seemed to chirp in happier and invigorated tones.
Michael or Mike, as he was fondly called, woke up just in time to turn off his bedside alarm before it
went off. There was a certain delectation and vigor in his demeanor that connoted his exuberant mood.
The reason was brought to light when, the previous night, he received an e-mail from one of the most
prestigious institutions in the country, where he had applied, that he had been offered an admission. He
wasn’t only delighted because of the offer of admission, but because he was also given an opportunity
to study the one course he had always dreamt of reading- Pharmacy.
His passion for Pharmacy wasn’t one that just came out of the blues, but had been carefully nurtured
and bred right from his moments of early childhood. A dream fueled by his passion to aid humanity in
the aspect of health and well-being, and funny enough, morphed by the desire to someday develop a
sweeter and more tolerable drug for malaria fever, for he resented the bitter and itchy Chloroquine
Phosphate which his mother always administered whenever he fell sick of malaria. He hastily said his
prayers that morning, said his thanks, and afterwards walked into the parlor to greet his parents who
responded with smiles. They were particularly happy because he was happy. The past two years of his
compulsory sit-at-home due to no offer of admission despite his towering JAMB scores had given them
cause to worry, particularly because he almost became a shadow of himself. They were happy even
more that his actual dreams were apparently falling in place. Michael returned back to his room and in
the next fifteen minutes, he was all ready, clutching a clear leather bag in his arms. His dad gave him the
keys to one of his cars and he thankfully accepted, kicked off the car engine and headed for the Café
where he printed all the required documents, made necessary parents, processed everything and amidst
his enthusiasm, made his way back home to prepare himself for resumption.
***************
Four years later, and Michael was doing well, holding on to a first class CGPA and indulging in various
competitions both local and international, winning several awards of excellence and gradually making
his way to the top. He had become a well- respected student, held in high esteem by both Lectures and
counterparts, cited as an eponym of good character and conduct by both parents and otherwise, but all
these were to fall apart sooner that anyone had expected. Two weeks before their 400L final exam, his
girlfriend, Dorcas, phoned to tell him that she was calling off their relationship. Mike was devastated, he
had been too optimistic about their union which had lasted two good years! He tried to no avail to
convince her to have a rethink, but she remained obstinate and unflinching.

He needed to clear off his head, for he was thinking too many things at the same time, he could feel the
pain surging through his veins and disrupting his peace of mind. Then, he remembered, his roommate
had once mentioned a “spot” where guys could clear their problems off their minds and leave feeling
better. He needed it, he thought, and without thinking any further to avoid a change of heart, he set off
without paying mind to the signs and analyzing possibilities. In no less than twenty minutes, he arrived
the venue, the “spot”, he almost pulled and ran back when he stepped his leg into the place, a large
untidy shack with a marshy ground. The entire place reeked of cigarettes, booze and other unpleasant
effluvia he could not clearly identify. There was white and red pills scattered about on rickety tables
positioned in each corner of the shack. He so badly wanted to move out but his head was too blurry to
think or make a stand. And finding a plastic chair by the side, he sat down and asked the tall, grisly-
looking guy who appeared to run the place for “something that will make me forget my pain.” The shack
owner gave out a knowing smirk, “I’ll be back.” He said. A few minutes later, he appeared with little blue
pills and a big brown paper wrapped around some dark-green plant. He then lit the brown paper and
gave it to Mike who had already swallowed four of the pills and was now almost numb. After puffing a
few of the smoke, he began to cough, the guys in the room began to laugh and make various
exclamations and comments.
“JJC!”
“Na now you be man!”
“My brother, now your eye go clearrr o, in fact eh, you go fit see the future now.”
But Mike could never see what was coming; his coughing grew and escalated, becoming more intense.
The expressions on the faces of the guys became frenzied and wild with fear. Some scampered off to
avoid possible implications while others offered him drink or blew his face with clothes and
handkerchiefs in a bid to placate the situation and restore normalcy, but all their efforts failed and soon
they all fled off, leaving him alone, choking in his own breath. An anonymous call was placed and soon,
Mike was on a stretcher in an ambulance heading for the hospital.
He lost the battle on the way, in tears of unspoken regret and remorse.
A latter autopsy confirmed he had suffered a brain damage and hemorrhage, it was also discovered that
there were traces of lethal unclassified drugs in his system which were suspected to be the primary
cause of the breakdown.
A call was placed to his home, his father, on hearing the news, slumped and suffered a stroke, one from
which he never recovered. His mother, on the other hand had to deal with the pain of losing an only
child and the new responsibility of tending to an incapacitated husband. Michael lost all windows to a
world filled with great possibilities for a bright young man, causing irreparable loss and grief to aged
parents, causing the many who looked up to him like a model to lose hope.
For a flimsy reason, and knowing the various effects an abuse of hard substances could produce, he still
went ahead to end a life in its prime- his life. He ignored all the signs and threw away a life so fertile and
desirable by many unprivileged youths. The entire years of development amounted to nothing but
memories buried beneath the dust.
There is no doubt, that many bright and productive people, just like Mike, young and studying, have
thrown away the possibilities of better lives just for short moments of ecstasy of varying forms. Drug
abuse, for one, has almost become normalized in society today. And as a result, the future remains
bleak.
Unless the right measures for curbing this menace are put in place, a world of disorganized adults and
young people, filled with wicked vices is imminent and unavoidable.
Drug abuse is an act of profligacy which speaks of impending doom, and must hence, be combated, for a
wise man once said, “Recovery is hard. Regret is harder.”