Breaking free of nyaope’s clutches

Published Jun 18, 2016

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Johannesburg - If the Dr Fabian and Florence Ribeiro Treatment Centre in Cullinan were a city, then 27-year-old *Palesa Mokoena would be its mayor.

But instead of sporting a golden chain around her neck, as the city’s first citizen does, she would have gold nuggets of wisdom to share freely with residents.

Mokoena is at the treatment facility because she’s a recovering drug addict - her drug of choice was nyaope, the street drug mix of low-grade heroin, marijuana and whatever else it’s cut with - cocaine, too.

She became an addict in her teens and the downward spiral of a life of drugs took her on to the streets, selling sex in downtown Joburg, at 19.

She had to claw back from that abyss to find her light - and her life.

Today, Mokoena has her light back.

Her personality has survived the bruising and the battering. Hard-earned wisdom and charisma bubble out of her petite frame.

She’s the self-proclaimed mayor after spending nearly two months at the centre and her struggle has made her want to help others there.

She remembers how hard it was in the beginning and what led her to rehab.

The turning point came when she was thrown off a building.

“I stole these people’s drugs and, as punishment, they decided to throw me off the fifth floor of the building we were living in.

“I landed on a balcony, ending up with broken arms and legs. I stayed in hospital for about three months.”

This was the last straw. Mokoena decided that as soon as an opportunity arose, she would leave. If she didn’t, she would end up dead.

Through an NGO and the Department of Social Development, she was finally admitted to the treatment centre last month.

Even then the drugs had a hold on her.

“Cocaine is best - imoto etshontsha imali (it’s expensive) - on it, you can go all night. I would sniff it so I didn’t get tired while entertaining my clients,” she says, recalling its vice-like grip on her life.

According to Adrie Vermeulen, from the South African National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence (Sanca), nyaope is a white, powdery substance that is most commonly smoked.

It often contains low-grade heroin and dagga. It can also be mixed with other ingredients, such as baby powder, flour, stoctrine (an algaecide), and even antiretroviral drugs used to treat HIV/Aids.

It can cost as little as R30 for a small bag, but is cheaper bought as a single joint. It is considered highly addictive.

Figures from the South African Community Epidemiology Network on Drug Use show that nyaope use is most prevalent in KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng, and that most users are black South Africans.

“The heroin in nyaope can cause the same long-term effects as seen with chronic heroin use. This includes mental deterioration, impaired reflexes, lack of appetite, perspiration, general deterioration in health, and loss of hygiene,” says Vermeulen.

Mokoena says she experienced most of these side effects when she was on nyaope for those eight years.

But so far she is proof that there is a chance to break free from nyaope and drug addiction.

She is one of the 300 men, women and children at the Dr Fabian and Florence Ribeiro Treatment Centre who have similar stories to tell.

The centre is managed by the Department of Social Development and has on the property a school that is run by the Department of Education.

According to its head, Desiree de Vries, the centre is the biggest government rehabilitation facility in the country, and most of the people it helps are from underprivileged backgrounds.

“With the clean-ups of the streets, and the anti-substance abuse movement, we admit a lot of people who are addicted to nyaope,” De Vries says.

The centre has a comprehensive team of psychologists, social workers, medical staff and child and youth care workers.

It provides those in its care with toiletries, clean clothing and bedding, and three meals a day.

De Vries adds: “We have a good success rate. People who could not succeed at other facilities have come here and succeeded.

“The biggest thing is that you have to want to get better, you have to be motivated. Then you can get better.”

Mokoena has made herself quite at home during the six weeks she has been at the centre. She is giving a tour of the facilities, leading the way through the centre’s sickbay, where new arrivals are treated.

She recalls the withdrawal symptoms she went through.

“When the drug leaves your body, it’s extremely painful. There was a time when I was vomiting blood. And you can’t really eat because you have stomach cramps. It’s really bad,” she says.

Rehab begins with intensive detox, and there is individual and group therapy throughout the eight-week-long programme.

There are about eight young men in the sickbay, exhaustion etched on their faces. They are the newest patients and sit outside in the sun, some smoking cigarettes.

It is here that “Mayor Mokoena” resurfaces.

“You must not self-discharge, that is a stupid decision,” Mokoena says.

While she is explaining the dangers of bailing out of the programme, a man on a bed near the door to his ward rushes out to see the woman he can hear speaking.

“Palesa!” he exclaims. “I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, and grabs a laughing Mokoena in a bear hug.

This is Miguel Simes. He and Mokoena lived together for about four years at the Cape York building in Hillbrow.

When Mokoena first landed on the streets, it was Simes who looked out for her.

For the past six months they had lost contact. Simes, 25, says he is also at the centre to try to get his life back.

“My family wrote me off because of the drugs… I’ve been taking the drugs for nine years and after seeing my life go past me, I’ve realised I’ve missed out on so much,” Simes says.

“Two years ago, my nephews were born and I don’t even know their names.

“I’ve decided I don’t want to die. I want to pick up the pieces,” he says, standing with his hands in his pockets.

Another person on a mission is Earl Madeley, 32, from Graaff-Reinet in the Eastern Cape.

“I’m here because I fell into the trap of abusing crystal meth. Even though it’s hard, I am going to stay here because I want to get my business back and be able to take care of my children,” he explains.

“Mayor” Mokoena is happy to see her old friend. She tells Simes to find the willpower to keep going.

“You must stay strong, Miguel. You’ll see, we’ll be fine,” she says, holding his hand.

She has another fortnight in the centre to complete her eight-week treatment programme and is going to help her friend and the others. She also knows her reintegration into society will be challenging.

But she’s ready and has a purpose: “I want to use my experiences to go back and help the young men and women I left on the streets to find their way.”

Saturday Star

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