The silent epidemic: The rise of KUSH in West Africa
From the slums of Monrovia to the ghettos in Agbogbloshie in Accra, through Freetown’s ghettos and Guinea’s border towns, a silent epidemic is tearing through the youth, an insidious synthetic drug called KUSH. It is cheap, potent, and deadly, yet it continues to spread across West Africa like wildfire.
During my travels in Ghana, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea, I encountered the horrifying realities of KUSH addiction, speaking to users, health professionals, drug peddlers, and government officials struggling to curb its rise.
KUSH is a synthetic substance often mixed with various toxic chemicals, including opioids, cannabis derivatives, and unknown laboratory made substances. Sold in crushed, dried leaves or powdered form, its effects range from extreme sedation to hallucinations and erratic behaviour. The drug’s affordability makes it highly accessible, particularly to unemployed youth in impoverished areas.
In Monrovia, I met Samuel Ellis, 23, a former university student who now lives under a dilapidated bridge in West Point. “I took KUSH to escape my problems, but now, I am the problem,” he muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open. His frail body was marked with burns a result of passing out with cigarettes in hand.
In Freetown, a young woman named Mariama Dukuly shared her ordeal: “I lost my baby because of KUSH,” she admitted, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I couldn’t stop using it even when I was pregnant.”
In Ghana, ghettos at the Art center, Tudu and Tamale neighbourhoods, KUSH has become the street drug of choice.
Kwesi, a 17-year-old addict, described the drug’s effect: “When I smoke KUSH, I feel like a god. But when it fades, I feel empty, cold, and angry. I need more just to feel normal,” he added.
Medical professionals across these four countries have raised alarm over KUSH’s devastating effects. A psychiatrist in Accra, describes it as a ticking time bomb: “The patients we see are barely recognisable. KUSH destroys the nervous system, leading to organ failure, psychosis, and often, death.”
Dr Aisha Kamara, a physician in Freetown, said it is difficult in treating KUSH addicts unlike heroin or cocaine, there’s no known antidote.
“We are dealing with a cocktail of poisons and every patient reacts differently,” she said.
In Guinea, Md Awa Diallo, whose son has been using KUSH for three years said her son was once a very bright student, but now, he steals to buy the drug.
Whiles shedding tears, she said she cannot recognize her own child anymore.
She also lamented that, the social fabric is breaking, as entire communities are left grappling with addiction-related crimes and family breakdowns, whiles families of addicts are also feeling the strain.
In Monrovia, I spoke to a former dealer, Alpha, who admitted said KUSH is smuggled through sophisticated street peddlers, local gangs, and cross-border networks.
He said they get KUSH from Nigeria and sometimes from Asian suppliers. It’s mixed with anything that will get people high pesticides, such as human bones from cemeteries, dried human feces, opioids, even embalming fluid.”
Despite police crackdowns, the trade flourishes. A drug enforcement officer in Liberia, speaking anonymously, revealed: “Arrests are made, but for every dealer we remove, five more take his place.”
A dealer in Freetown told me that the profit margins are high because of the low cost of production, saying the drug’s easy availability has made it a lucrative business.
He said, selling KUSH is not a choice but a necessity, because there are no jobs, and “this is how we survive.”
Authorities in all four nations have acknowledged KUSH as a national crisis. In Ghana, the Narcotics Control Commission has launched sensitisation campaigns, but with limited success. Liberia and Sierra Leone have established rehabilitation centres, yet funding remains inadequate. Guinea, battling weak enforcement mechanisms, has yet to roll out a comprehensive plan.
Despite these efforts, corruption, porous borders, and the sheer demand for the drug continue to hinder progress.
In Tamale, there is a task force who have taken the matter in their hands to save their brothers and sisters involved in this addiction.
One of the task force members said a more aggressive approach is needed in order to crack down the ghettos involved in this.
Mr Ahmed Yakubu, a social policy analyst, believes that governments must invest in alternative economic opportunities for young people. “We cannot fight KUSH with arrests alone. If people have no jobs, no education, and no hope, they will turn to drugs.”
Without a unified regional effort, West Africa risks losing an entire generation to this synthetic killer.
As I leave behind the addicts, health workers, and enforcers struggling against this wave, one thing remains clear: KUSH addiction is a crisis demanding urgent and sustained intervention.
- BY GEOFFREY BUTA
