By Fatmata Binta Bah.

​The vibrant pulse of Freetown, Sierra Leone’s capital, is being muted by a devastating drug epidemic known simply as “Kush.” This synthetic drug—a cocktail of cannabis, potent synthetic cannabinoids, and, tragically, often ground-up human bones stolen from cemeteries—is carving a path of destruction through the nation’s youth, leaving a wake of despair, addiction, and shattered families. This is the story of Alhassan (not his real name), a 20-year-old former student whose life has been consumed by the drug, and the tireless community members fighting to reclaim their children.

​Alhassan was once a promising student with dreams of becoming an electrician, now, he spends his days shuffling through the back alleys of Kroo Bay, his eyes vacant, his body emaciated a ghost of his former self, his journey into Kush addiction began innocently enough, seeking a quick escape” from the crushing economic realities facing many young Sierra Leoneans.

​Kush is cheap and readily available, offering a fleeting, intense high that quickly morphs into a debilitating dependency. Its effects are often severe and visible: zombie-like catatonia, uncontrollable limb spasms, and dangerous disorientation that leave users vulnerable to accidents, violence, and exploitation. Alhassan has suffered broken bones from falling during a high and has been arrested multiple times for petty theft to feed his habit.

​“The first time, it felt like flying, but now… it’s just a sickness. My body hurts all the time. I know I am wasting away, but I can’t stop. The craving is a fire inside me.”

His mother, Fatmata, a market trader, speaks of the shame and anguish that have replaced hope in their small, crowded home. She has spent her meager savings on traditional healers, private clinics, and even police bribes, all in a desperate and often futile attempt to save her son, the emotional and financial toll on families is immense, transforming a public health crisis into a deep, personalized tragedy across thousands of households.

​While the crisis demands a massive, coordinated governmental response, the first and most sustained efforts are often seen at the grassroots level. community-based organizations and faith groups have stepped into the gaping void, providing basic care and advocacy where formal systems fall short.

​In neighborhoods like Wellington and Kissy, volunteer-run groups operate small, unsanctioned drop-in centers, they provide essentials like a warm meal, clean clothes, and a safe space off the streets, they engage in street outreach, where former users and dedicated counselors physically go into the notorious hotspots to engage with addicts, offering compassion and harm reduction strategies.

​One such hero is Ibrahim Kamara, a retired teacher who now runs a small counseling program out of his mosque’s annex, we cannot wait for the big international aid, he states firmly, these are our children, we are the ones who must pull them back from the grave.”

​These grassroots efforts face colossal challenges: a severe lack of funding, zero access to specialized psychiatric care, and the social stigma that isolates addicts and their families. Furthermore, the supply chain of Kush remains largely unaddressed, meaning that for every user they successfully detoxify, dozens more are falling into addiction.

​The gravity of the Kush crisis has finally forced a higher-level response, the drug’s devastating impact on productivity, public safety, and the long-term health of a generation has been recognized as a national health emergency.

There is a critical shortage of proper rehabilitation facilities, the few existing centers are overwhelmed and lack the necessary resources and trained staff (psychiatrists, counselors, and nurses) to manage the severe psychiatric symptoms and withdrawal effects associated with synthetic drug use.

The country’s primary psychiatric facility, the Sierra Leone Psychiatric Teaching Hospital (SLPTH), is struggling to cope, often having to chain highly agitated patients due to a lack of secure wards and appropriate medication.

Efforts are underway to roll out targeted public health campaigns in schools and community centers to warn young people about the drug’s lethal composition and irreversible effects.

​The hope for Alhassan, and the thousands like him, rests on the ability of the nation to transition from a reactive, crisis-management approach to a comprehensive, well-funded national strategy that encompasses prevention, treatment, and law enforcement. The silence of the streets, once filled with the laughter of youth, is now a chilling reminder of the urgency of the moment. The battle against Kush is not just a fight against a drug; it is a fight for the future soul and workforce of Sierra Leone.

Copyright –Published in Expo Times News on Wednesday, 10th December 2025 (ExpoTimes News – Expo Media Group (expomediasl.com)