Maybe We Are All on Drugs and Don’t Know It

I had just finished working for the day when I felt a sharp pain in my back. I am not a doctor, but I immediately knew what it was – back pain is a popular pain around this part of the world, and its best counter is the popular “Agbo Jedi”.

Iya Basira, my faithful herbal doctor, had mixed a concoction for me in a cup. I sat by the small court in front of her shop sipping slowly on the herb, taking it as a relief and relaxation from the long day’s work.

‘Get the fuck’ for far for real’, I saw those tiny fluids rain down from an open pit I later found out to be a mouth. The body staggered nonchalantly and continued in a sluggish, non-consistent speech for the next two minutes. I sat there, watching people laugh and snuggle, then engage him in an argument that later turned into a fight, and I was lost to the point where I could no longer figure out who was high and who wasn’t.

In the 21st century, the idea that we may all be on drugs—both literally and metaphorically—has become more relevant than ever. Beyond the conventional abuse of substances like heroin, methamphetamine, and codeine, societies, particularly in Nigeria, are grappling with metaphorical “drugs” that are just as destructive: the pervasive influence of the internet, systemic poverty, and unchecked environmental degradation. These are the narcotics of our age, silently seeping into every facet of life, distorting reality, and driving society into chaos.

Also Read: Drug Abuse: What the Nigerian law says and how you might have been breaking it

Nigeria has witnessed an alarming rise in drug abuse over the past two decades. The 2018 National Drug Use Survey revealed that nearly 14.3 million Nigerians aged 15–64 use drugs, with substances like codeine, tramadol, and methamphetamine becoming alarmingly popular. The Nigerian Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA in a BBC post also claims that over 10 million Nigerians smoke indian hemp. In impoverished communities, these substances often serve as an escape—a means to dull the pain of hunger, unemployment, and despair. For many, it’s a vicious cycle: poverty drives drug use, and drug use entrenches poverty, robbing young people of the will and ability to forge better futures.

Yet, these numbers only scratch the surface of a deeper malaise. Many Nigerians are addicted to something far subtler but no less insidious: the allure of escape. Whether through drugs, social media, or the promise of a better life elsewhere, the act of disconnecting from a harsh reality has become a coping mechanism.

Poverty, perhaps the most destructive drug of all, is the root cause of many societal issues in Nigeria. With over 129 million Nigerians living below the poverty line, desperation drives people to unimaginable extremes. Children sniff glue to stave off hunger; adults turn to alcohol and drugs to escape their struggles. The systemic failure to address poverty perpetuates cycles of addiction, crime, and environmental neglect.

Iya Basira was already in the middle of the two clawing pawls, clubbing at them. She is strong, I concluded, as she wrestles one of the men to the ground. She quickly found a stool on his chest, a self-made prison I assumed no one could escape from. 

The internet, with its infinite scrolls of dopamine hits, has become a digital drug. If drugs are the scourge of the body, the internet is the scourge of the mind. Nigeria’s youth, like their counterparts globally, are increasingly glued to their screens, scrolling endlessly through social media feeds. It creates an illusion of connectivity while fostering isolation, depression, and anxiety. According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), 1 in 10 adolescents, those between the age of 10 to 19 years, showed signs of social media addiction. Worse still, it perpetuates harmful ideals, from unattainable beauty standards to get-rich-quick schemes, fueling feelings of inadequacy and discontent. 

In Nigeria, where internet penetration is growing rapidly, the dark side of this connectivity is evident in the rise of cybercrime, misinformation, and online fraud, colloquially known as ‘Yahoo Yahoo’. For many young Nigerians, the pressure to succeed at all costs is a direct result of their daily diet of curated online perfection.

As I downed my cup of the Jedi, I could feel the bitter remnant swimming between my gums, paddling my tongue across the ocean of my mouth. I retrieved and spat them out. Iya Basira, proud of her recent achievement, walked the boys separately to the side of the bench, one of them still cursing, “No be your fault, na me fvck up way I no japa commot Nigeria”. He staggered away from Iya Basira’s guidance, and gbim! In seconds, he was already on the floor, curled up by the side of the gutter. Iya Basira dragged a long hiss at him and walked to me, I gestured to her that I needed water, she withdrew a bottled water from her storage just by the chair and handed it over to me, I cut the cap open and poured a bit of it on the floor, I am not sure why, it’s just something I am used to doing. It was then I noticed the heap of dirt by the side of the store. For the first time since sitting here, I noticed the environment, from the dirt by the store to the sachet and styrofoams filled gutter with murky waters and the smell of expired locusts beans. 

As we drown in the metaphorical drugs of escapism, we are blind to the literal toxins poisoning our environment. In the Niger Delta, decades of oil exploration have rendered the land barren and the waters undrinkable. Air pollution in Lagos and other major cities poses a silent but deadly threat to public health, yet it is barely acknowledged.

This environmental destruction is itself a form of addiction—an addiction to profit, progress, and convenience at the expense of sustainability. Just as drug abuse erodes the body, environmental neglect erodes the fabric of communities, leaving future generations with a planet that is inhospitable and unlivable.

To combat these challenges, Nigeria must confront its addictions head-on. This means tackling drug abuse with robust rehabilitation programs and education campaigns while addressing the poverty that drives it. It means regulating the internet to mitigate its harmful effects while fostering digital literacy. This means enforcing environmental laws and investing in renewable energy to safeguard the planet for future generations.

Above all, it requires a cultural shift—a recognition that escapism, in all its forms, is not the solution. The “drugs” of the 21st century, both literal and metaphorical, thrive on despair and disconnection. To break free, Nigerians must embrace hope, community, and resilience.

Perhaps we are all on drugs, but recognising this is the first step toward recovery. For Nigeria to thrive, it must confront its addictions, heal its wounds, and build a future that is both sustainable and inclusive.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position of Neusroom.