I struggled with alcoholism and won
Aug 20, 2005
“THE are thieves around the house!†I whispered fearfully to my younger brother. I had crawled to his room on my belly in the middle of the night. He sleepily said, “There are no thieves, you are just imagining things.â€
By Oscar Bamuhigire
“THE are thieves around the house!†I whispered fearfully to my younger brother. I had crawled to his room on my belly in the middle of the night. He sleepily said, “There are no thieves, you are just imagining things.â€
I realised that I was suffering hallucinations, as a result of my alcoholism. By then, I was drinking non-stop! The thought came: “Just drink a little bit, and you will sleep off soundly.†I fought this temptation, and chose to endure any degree of suffering rather than take another drink ever. I suffered greatly the next three days. That was October 1995. I have not had a drink, or taken drugs, since.
I started drinking and smoking marijuana at the age 13 in St Mary’s College Kisubi. We thought it was the cool thing to do. By the end of my S4, I had sat for some of my exams drunk; been arrested; been detained in Kabalagala Police Station at age 14; had poor grades; had runaway from home twice and had almost been gunned down by NRA soldiers who mistook me for a thug.
I was a senior officer in a school gang called The Red Brigade. Many of my gang mates were expelled for the attempted murder of a fellow gang member. I later went to Namasagali College, where I met many old ‘glass mates.’ Here, our drinking and drug use escalated.
By the end of my S6, I had been suspended. Some of my colleagues had been expelled and others had died.
I spent most of my vacation drinking and dancing. I felt this was the way to live. I enrolled in Namasagali University for a law degree. I began to go on three-week-long drinking binges. Fr Damien Grimes and the school administration threatened me with expulsion three times. My classmates advised me to stop drinking and began to shun me. I could see what alcohol was doing to me, and I resolved to quit drinking. I stayed sober for one month and was happy.
My classmates noticed the change in my life and were impressed. “Because you have become disciplined,†they said, “We have raised some money to buy you a few beers and some eats. Let’s celebrate today.†I drank a few beers that night, but quickly switched to ‘molasses’ (crude waragi). The next morning, I awoke feeling terrible. I drank a bit to calm my nerves, and that set off another binge.
While on a binge, I commanded several students to steal teachers’ chickens. Sixty chickens were eaten that night. I was subsequently expelled. On the day of my expulsion, I was sober. On the way home, on a bus full of students, all I could think of was committing suicide. I hated alcohol and what it did to me. I resolved not to drink for the next five years, if ever. In the months that followed, many of my colleagues in Namasagali University died of AIDS. I stayed home; sober for the next six months.
My parents were impressed by my newfound discipline. They offered to put me back in school. I enrolled in Makerere University in 1992. I was popular on campus. I met some of my old ‘glass mates’ and they offered to buy me booze in celebration of my ‘miraculous’ return into the ‘system.’ I resisted the temptation, but finally yielded to taking half a glass of booze at Kilometer 85, a dingy pub behind Lumumba Hall in those days.
After that half glass, my mood changed. I ordered another and another. We all drank until dawn. After that, I drank a lot and cut all contact with people at home. They thought I had died. When I next appeared home, in a sickly state, my father refused to pay for Makerere and sent me to pursue a diploma at Caltec Academy.
The plunge from a degree to a diploma pained me. I thought hard in the weeks prior to my admission to Caltec. I thought of my lost opportunities, scandals, soured relations at home; I thought of what I had become. I again resolved not to touch a drink until I had completed my diploma and a degree.
At Caltec, no one knew of my drinking history. It was therefore easy for me to start life afresh. I did not touch a drink for three months and was the best student in my class. Everyone loved me.
Relations at home were normalised, and my parents considered sending me for a degree. This began to change when i became friend with a noisy classmates called Ozidi. There was something about him I liked, but I did not know what it was. “Do you drink?†he asked me one day. I replied in the affirmative and we discovered a similarity in our drinking histories.
“What we need to do,†he suggested, “is control our drinking. We can take a glass of booze on Saturdays only, to celebrate the week. Our problem in the past has been that we drank a lot.†I started drinking with Ozidi every Saturday at a dingy pub in Kikoni village. We became popular in that joint. For a month I controlled my drinking. Then, one Monday morning, on my way to school, I spotted Ozidi having a glass of booze in our joint! I was excited. We decided to break our rule only on that day, and we drank on a Monday. That sparked off our mid week drinking, and in time, I was off on another binge!
The Deputy head master, Br. Deogratius, gave me three warnings, and I narrowly survived expulsions. He began to counsel, convinced my problem was beyond my control. Relations at home soured. I would awake, full of guilt and resolve to stop drinking but never did.
Finally, my parents imposed financial sanctions on me. After every binge, I would stay sober for a month. I wanted to study, so, I would walk six kilometres to school and back. In my sober moments, I began to coach my classmates and lecture the whole class in the absence of a lecturer.
The students paid me a little money in return, enough to cover my lunch and transport for the week. Then, on one of my binges, I was arrested in Wandegeya at 3:00am, and was charged with being idle and disorderly. I will never forget the painful three days I spent in the Wandegeya Police cell. My cellmates advised me to stop drinking, though they were more of a mess than I was! The police at the station lectured me endlessly about my alcoholism.
I reflected deeply on my life and resolved to stop drinking forever. Br. Tadewo Mbabazi, our head of Business Studies department, went home and convinced my parents to bargain for my release. After a day of bargaining, my father secured my release. I stayed sober for three months after my release.
My reputation recovered and the scandals faded. I was happy again and successfully fought off the temptations to drink. Then, the school administration organised a farewell party for us, a few months before our mocks. I arrived for the party sober and smart.
But, somewhere in the corridors, someone had brought some whisky. Surely, I thought, and my friends agreed, a little whisky at the party wouldn’t hurt! I took a small swing of the whisky and felt tipsy.
The world brightened. I needed more booze. Everyone was high after all. I sneaked of with my colleagues to our old joint in Kikoni. That sparked off the binges. When I sobered up, I was full or remorse. My family imposed financial sanctions again. I couldn’t blame them.
My friend Ozidi swore never to drink with me. He couldn’t understand why I couldn’t drink like a gentleman! I began to walk to school and back, determined to graduate. I earned some money lecturing my classmates, and, following a friend’s suggestion, we staged dances for the class and raised a lot of money.
I went off on a binge again and this time round gave up on studies. I gave up on life. I didn’t care anymore what would happen to me. A week before our mock exams, Br. Tadewo dropped in to see my parents at home. Tears welled in his eyes as he begged my father all day to take me back to school and pay my fees. He pleaded with me to stop drinking, and I agreed. My father agreed to pay for my transport but not my fees. I sat for my mock exams, walking to school and back, and emerged among the best, but I was off on a binge after that.
Towards my final exams, I sobered up. I was allowed to sit for my exams on credit. I had been their best student and they felt it would be unfair if they denied me an opportunity to sit my exams. They were also of the opinion that my alcoholism was a disease.
After my exams, I was drunk for 24 hours a day, with a few weeks of sobriety, and was in bad health. “Do you want to stop drinking,†my mother asked me one morning. “Yes.†I replied. She took me to the parish priest of Nsambya Church, because my problem, as she saw it, appeared to be spiritual. I hated church, but consented to going. There, I was referred to the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), Fr. Maurice Gelinas (RIP), a recovered alcoholic. I joined AA and swore never to drink again.
In AA, I was told my alcoholism was a disease. I was not to take as much as one drink and I had to rely on the group’s advice for my recovery. They gave me many books on alcoholism. I read them all
For three months I didn’t touch a drink. One evening, I went to buy candles and a matchbox.
I met an old ‘glass mate’ having beer at the kiosk. He praised me for being sober and bragged about me to his fiends. He asked me how I had succeeded and I lectured him about AA and alcoholism as a disease, and my resolve never to drink again. He offered me a soda, and I sat down to drink it. Then, he offered me a beer! I refused to drink it. He repeatedly made that offer, until I finally accepted to take just one beer. The world changed. I wanted more and more alcohol. I was on another binge! I quit AA for a year.
My drinking worsened. I had several blackouts. I was detained at Kabalagala Police Station for a week for being drunk at daytime. While there, I vowed not to touch booze ever again, no matter what! A friend from AA secured my release. But, on the day of my release, I succumbed to the temptation of taking just one drink to celebrate my release!
“You are going to die if you don’t stop drinking,†my doctor said several times. I was beginning to feel sick.
I hated alcohol and wanted to stop drinking, but could not. “God is the answer to your problem,†many told me. “You have been bewitched,†others said. In desperation, I sought God’s help in several Pentecostal churches, where the pastors cast out ‘demons’ from me, but this didn’t work. I was in and out of AA.
In time, I got to know the people in AA well. I realised they knew my problem better than anyone else. There were times they even predicted my relapses. I was beginning to understand my alcoholism through the books AA had given me and was genuinely getting tired of suffering because of booze. Humbled by repeated failure, I began to accept that I knew nothing.
I stayed sober for five months, rising to become the AA treasurer. In one AA meeting, it was emphasised that we alcoholics could not take even one drop of alcohol. I objected to such an absurd conclusion — no one can get high on one drop of booze, I thought. The group was worried about me that day. On my way home after the meeting, I met a former cellmate who suggested we take a drink; I refused and lectured him. He offered me a soda and I agreed. For several hours he pleaded with me to drink, till I agreed to take a beer.
That was my last binge. I blew the AA funds on booze! When I sobered up, I was brought to my knees by the humiliation of all the things I had done. I was willing to surrender my self to AA. Over the past months, I had grown so close to these people, who were mainly expatriates. They had invited me to their homes, introduced me to their friends, visited me at home, and invited me to parties. They had become brothers to me. This time I resolved to do exactly what the group told me, even if I died in the course of doing it.
I had no money and people at home had given up on me. I had grown accustomed to being locked out of the house at night and sleeping outside on the floor or under cars. I walked to town and back twice a week for AA meetings. “Don’t leave home for three months, except on the days you are coming for AA meetings,†they told me, and I agreed. “Each time you think of drinking, remind yourself of the terrible things that happened to you the last time you drank,†they suggested. That’s what I did. “When nothing else seems to be working, pray. It works.†I did and it worked.
“Keep way from your ‘glass mates’ and drinking places,†they added, and I did just that. I lost all my old friends. My AA sponsor, Michael, an African American lawyer, saw me twice a week. We made a list of all the people I had hurt, all the opportunities I had lost, all the bad things that had happened to me as a result of my drinking. It became clear to me that my life could only get worse each time I drank. “Remember these things each time you feel like drinking,†he said. I did and it helped.
In the months of counselling that followed, I did things I never dreamed I could ever do. I made up with people I had hurt; I came to believe in God (in my own way, not in a religious way); I surrendered my life to God; I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself, seeking to get rid of my worry, anger, self pity, depression, envy, pride and greed.
I admitted to God, my AA friends and myself, the exact nature of my wrongs and asked God to remove all these character defects. I sought, through daily prayer and meditation, to improve my contact with God, praying only for knowledge of his will and the power to carry it out. Since then I have never desired a drink.
I am convinced that God, the love of the AA group and my commitment to recover, saved my life.
Two years after sobering up, I enrolled for a Psychology degree at Makerere University and paid my own fees for the first semester. In my second semester, Philip Karugaba, my family, and the Rotary Club of Kampala South, helped me out. It was a very difficult year. I saved every penny for my studies and often had only one meal a day! I later applied for three dead years due to financial difficulties. With the help of my family, I completed my degree this year with an upper second honours degree.
Most of the people I once drank with have long since died. I always say that I cannot exchange my worst moments when sober, for my best moments when drunk.
Achievements
Founder member Youth Organisation For Alcohol Abuse.
Received a vocational award from the Rotary Club Of Kampala South.
Journalist for The Monitor counselling addicts through column Kick The Bottle and radio talk show on Monitor Radio Living Sober.
Later, journalist for The New Vision.
Helped establish Uganda’s first two residential treatment centres for addicts (Serenity Centre, and Kampala Recovery Centre).
Headed and designed the Alcohol program in Adjumani refugee camps.
Represented Africa at an International Symposium on addiction in Rome.
Interned in addiction counselling in Manhattan, New York.
In New York, I addressed the Rotary club of Pleasantville, NY.
Published a book on addiction counselling, titled, Discipline and Addiction available at: www.authorsonline.co.uk
“THE are thieves around the house!†I whispered fearfully to my younger brother. I had crawled to his room on my belly in the middle of the night. He sleepily said, “There are no thieves, you are just imagining things.â€
I realised that I was suffering hallucinations, as a result of my alcoholism. By then, I was drinking non-stop! The thought came: “Just drink a little bit, and you will sleep off soundly.†I fought this temptation, and chose to endure any degree of suffering rather than take another drink ever. I suffered greatly the next three days. That was October 1995. I have not had a drink, or taken drugs, since.
I started drinking and smoking marijuana at the age 13 in St Mary’s College Kisubi. We thought it was the cool thing to do. By the end of my S4, I had sat for some of my exams drunk; been arrested; been detained in Kabalagala Police Station at age 14; had poor grades; had runaway from home twice and had almost been gunned down by NRA soldiers who mistook me for a thug.
I was a senior officer in a school gang called The Red Brigade. Many of my gang mates were expelled for the attempted murder of a fellow gang member. I later went to Namasagali College, where I met many old ‘glass mates.’ Here, our drinking and drug use escalated.
By the end of my S6, I had been suspended. Some of my colleagues had been expelled and others had died.
I spent most of my vacation drinking and dancing. I felt this was the way to live. I enrolled in Namasagali University for a law degree. I began to go on three-week-long drinking binges. Fr Damien Grimes and the school administration threatened me with expulsion three times. My classmates advised me to stop drinking and began to shun me. I could see what alcohol was doing to me, and I resolved to quit drinking. I stayed sober for one month and was happy.
My classmates noticed the change in my life and were impressed. “Because you have become disciplined,†they said, “We have raised some money to buy you a few beers and some eats. Let’s celebrate today.†I drank a few beers that night, but quickly switched to ‘molasses’ (crude waragi). The next morning, I awoke feeling terrible. I drank a bit to calm my nerves, and that set off another binge.
While on a binge, I commanded several students to steal teachers’ chickens. Sixty chickens were eaten that night. I was subsequently expelled. On the day of my expulsion, I was sober. On the way home, on a bus full of students, all I could think of was committing suicide. I hated alcohol and what it did to me. I resolved not to drink for the next five years, if ever. In the months that followed, many of my colleagues in Namasagali University died of AIDS. I stayed home; sober for the next six months.
My parents were impressed by my newfound discipline. They offered to put me back in school. I enrolled in Makerere University in 1992. I was popular on campus. I met some of my old ‘glass mates’ and they offered to buy me booze in celebration of my ‘miraculous’ return into the ‘system.’ I resisted the temptation, but finally yielded to taking half a glass of booze at Kilometer 85, a dingy pub behind Lumumba Hall in those days.
After that half glass, my mood changed. I ordered another and another. We all drank until dawn. After that, I drank a lot and cut all contact with people at home. They thought I had died. When I next appeared home, in a sickly state, my father refused to pay for Makerere and sent me to pursue a diploma at Caltec Academy.
The plunge from a degree to a diploma pained me. I thought hard in the weeks prior to my admission to Caltec. I thought of my lost opportunities, scandals, soured relations at home; I thought of what I had become. I again resolved not to touch a drink until I had completed my diploma and a degree.
At Caltec, no one knew of my drinking history. It was therefore easy for me to start life afresh. I did not touch a drink for three months and was the best student in my class. Everyone loved me.
Relations at home were normalised, and my parents considered sending me for a degree. This began to change when i became friend with a noisy classmates called Ozidi. There was something about him I liked, but I did not know what it was. “Do you drink?†he asked me one day. I replied in the affirmative and we discovered a similarity in our drinking histories.
“What we need to do,†he suggested, “is control our drinking. We can take a glass of booze on Saturdays only, to celebrate the week. Our problem in the past has been that we drank a lot.†I started drinking with Ozidi every Saturday at a dingy pub in Kikoni village. We became popular in that joint. For a month I controlled my drinking. Then, one Monday morning, on my way to school, I spotted Ozidi having a glass of booze in our joint! I was excited. We decided to break our rule only on that day, and we drank on a Monday. That sparked off our mid week drinking, and in time, I was off on another binge!
The Deputy head master, Br. Deogratius, gave me three warnings, and I narrowly survived expulsions. He began to counsel, convinced my problem was beyond my control. Relations at home soured. I would awake, full of guilt and resolve to stop drinking but never did.
Finally, my parents imposed financial sanctions on me. After every binge, I would stay sober for a month. I wanted to study, so, I would walk six kilometres to school and back. In my sober moments, I began to coach my classmates and lecture the whole class in the absence of a lecturer.
The students paid me a little money in return, enough to cover my lunch and transport for the week. Then, on one of my binges, I was arrested in Wandegeya at 3:00am, and was charged with being idle and disorderly. I will never forget the painful three days I spent in the Wandegeya Police cell. My cellmates advised me to stop drinking, though they were more of a mess than I was! The police at the station lectured me endlessly about my alcoholism.
I reflected deeply on my life and resolved to stop drinking forever. Br. Tadewo Mbabazi, our head of Business Studies department, went home and convinced my parents to bargain for my release. After a day of bargaining, my father secured my release. I stayed sober for three months after my release.
My reputation recovered and the scandals faded. I was happy again and successfully fought off the temptations to drink. Then, the school administration organised a farewell party for us, a few months before our mocks. I arrived for the party sober and smart.
But, somewhere in the corridors, someone had brought some whisky. Surely, I thought, and my friends agreed, a little whisky at the party wouldn’t hurt! I took a small swing of the whisky and felt tipsy.
The world brightened. I needed more booze. Everyone was high after all. I sneaked of with my colleagues to our old joint in Kikoni. That sparked off the binges. When I sobered up, I was full or remorse. My family imposed financial sanctions again. I couldn’t blame them.
My friend Ozidi swore never to drink with me. He couldn’t understand why I couldn’t drink like a gentleman! I began to walk to school and back, determined to graduate. I earned some money lecturing my classmates, and, following a friend’s suggestion, we staged dances for the class and raised a lot of money.
I went off on a binge again and this time round gave up on studies. I gave up on life. I didn’t care anymore what would happen to me. A week before our mock exams, Br. Tadewo dropped in to see my parents at home. Tears welled in his eyes as he begged my father all day to take me back to school and pay my fees. He pleaded with me to stop drinking, and I agreed. My father agreed to pay for my transport but not my fees. I sat for my mock exams, walking to school and back, and emerged among the best, but I was off on a binge after that.
Towards my final exams, I sobered up. I was allowed to sit for my exams on credit. I had been their best student and they felt it would be unfair if they denied me an opportunity to sit my exams. They were also of the opinion that my alcoholism was a disease.
After my exams, I was drunk for 24 hours a day, with a few weeks of sobriety, and was in bad health. “Do you want to stop drinking,†my mother asked me one morning. “Yes.†I replied. She took me to the parish priest of Nsambya Church, because my problem, as she saw it, appeared to be spiritual. I hated church, but consented to going. There, I was referred to the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), Fr. Maurice Gelinas (RIP), a recovered alcoholic. I joined AA and swore never to drink again.
In AA, I was told my alcoholism was a disease. I was not to take as much as one drink and I had to rely on the group’s advice for my recovery. They gave me many books on alcoholism. I read them all
For three months I didn’t touch a drink. One evening, I went to buy candles and a matchbox.
I met an old ‘glass mate’ having beer at the kiosk. He praised me for being sober and bragged about me to his fiends. He asked me how I had succeeded and I lectured him about AA and alcoholism as a disease, and my resolve never to drink again. He offered me a soda, and I sat down to drink it. Then, he offered me a beer! I refused to drink it. He repeatedly made that offer, until I finally accepted to take just one beer. The world changed. I wanted more and more alcohol. I was on another binge! I quit AA for a year.
My drinking worsened. I had several blackouts. I was detained at Kabalagala Police Station for a week for being drunk at daytime. While there, I vowed not to touch booze ever again, no matter what! A friend from AA secured my release. But, on the day of my release, I succumbed to the temptation of taking just one drink to celebrate my release!
“You are going to die if you don’t stop drinking,†my doctor said several times. I was beginning to feel sick.
I hated alcohol and wanted to stop drinking, but could not. “God is the answer to your problem,†many told me. “You have been bewitched,†others said. In desperation, I sought God’s help in several Pentecostal churches, where the pastors cast out ‘demons’ from me, but this didn’t work. I was in and out of AA.
In time, I got to know the people in AA well. I realised they knew my problem better than anyone else. There were times they even predicted my relapses. I was beginning to understand my alcoholism through the books AA had given me and was genuinely getting tired of suffering because of booze. Humbled by repeated failure, I began to accept that I knew nothing.
I stayed sober for five months, rising to become the AA treasurer. In one AA meeting, it was emphasised that we alcoholics could not take even one drop of alcohol. I objected to such an absurd conclusion — no one can get high on one drop of booze, I thought. The group was worried about me that day. On my way home after the meeting, I met a former cellmate who suggested we take a drink; I refused and lectured him. He offered me a soda and I agreed. For several hours he pleaded with me to drink, till I agreed to take a beer.
That was my last binge. I blew the AA funds on booze! When I sobered up, I was brought to my knees by the humiliation of all the things I had done. I was willing to surrender my self to AA. Over the past months, I had grown so close to these people, who were mainly expatriates. They had invited me to their homes, introduced me to their friends, visited me at home, and invited me to parties. They had become brothers to me. This time I resolved to do exactly what the group told me, even if I died in the course of doing it.
I had no money and people at home had given up on me. I had grown accustomed to being locked out of the house at night and sleeping outside on the floor or under cars. I walked to town and back twice a week for AA meetings. “Don’t leave home for three months, except on the days you are coming for AA meetings,†they told me, and I agreed. “Each time you think of drinking, remind yourself of the terrible things that happened to you the last time you drank,†they suggested. That’s what I did. “When nothing else seems to be working, pray. It works.†I did and it worked.
“Keep way from your ‘glass mates’ and drinking places,†they added, and I did just that. I lost all my old friends. My AA sponsor, Michael, an African American lawyer, saw me twice a week. We made a list of all the people I had hurt, all the opportunities I had lost, all the bad things that had happened to me as a result of my drinking. It became clear to me that my life could only get worse each time I drank. “Remember these things each time you feel like drinking,†he said. I did and it helped.
In the months of counselling that followed, I did things I never dreamed I could ever do. I made up with people I had hurt; I came to believe in God (in my own way, not in a religious way); I surrendered my life to God; I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself, seeking to get rid of my worry, anger, self pity, depression, envy, pride and greed.
I admitted to God, my AA friends and myself, the exact nature of my wrongs and asked God to remove all these character defects. I sought, through daily prayer and meditation, to improve my contact with God, praying only for knowledge of his will and the power to carry it out. Since then I have never desired a drink.
I am convinced that God, the love of the AA group and my commitment to recover, saved my life.
Two years after sobering up, I enrolled for a Psychology degree at Makerere University and paid my own fees for the first semester. In my second semester, Philip Karugaba, my family, and the Rotary Club of Kampala South, helped me out. It was a very difficult year. I saved every penny for my studies and often had only one meal a day! I later applied for three dead years due to financial difficulties. With the help of my family, I completed my degree this year with an upper second honours degree.
Most of the people I once drank with have long since died. I always say that I cannot exchange my worst moments when sober, for my best moments when drunk.
Achievements