When
The Pace Of Life Is Dictated By A Narcotic Leaf Djibouti
Story Filed: Tuesday, July 25, 2000 10:12 AM EST
Addis Ababa (The Monitor - Addis Ababa, July 25,
2000) - Every day, shortly after noon, hundreds of cars and mopeds
shatter the calm of this lazy port city as they race each other in
from the airport, horns blaring. For the next hour or so, they tear
along the city's main roads and down its narrow, dusty side-streets,
distributing thousands of parcels of bright green leaf to screaming
street traders in a burst of manic activity.
At the same time, government offices and private
businesses shut down and Djibouti's men make one last, vital purchase
before heading home or simply finding a tree to sit under. Then the
city goes quiet, dramatically quiet, for the rest of the day.
It is time to chew "qat". The leaf, which
comes from a plant of the same name, is a natural stimulant with the
qualities of a mild amphetamine and chewing it is a daily ritual for
almost all men in this tiny Moslem nation at the mouth of the Red Sea.
Sheltered from the afternoon sun and a hot wind that
blows across the city like a blast from a furnace, they sit in small
groups, methodically stripping the leaves from the stalks and chewing
them into a wad that bulges inside the cheek. Chewers take the edge
off qat's bitter taste with sweet tea, water or soda as they chat and
joke through long afternoons.
After an early surge of euphoria and energy, many
later feel lethargic and sleep badly, waking up with a
"hangover". But they see chewing qat as central to their
lives, the best way of maintaining friendships and keeping track of
the goings-on in their neighborhoods.
"We don't drink alcohol but this is like our
beer. It is our way of relaxing, of talking to each other," said
Abdi Said, a 47-year-old father of four who says he chews for three or
four hours most days.
He sits on a reed mat, leaning back against the wall
of a dilapidated building in one of downtown Djibouti's oldest neighborhoods. Around him are four friends, seated in a rough
semi-circle just yards from a street corner where eight women have set
up small market stalls, all of them selling qat.
As the qat begins to kick in, the five men become
more animated, trading jokes and boisterous claims about the positive
effect of the leaf on their sexual prowess. The eventual consensus was
that it boosts the libido for a while but, if you wait too long,
lethargy will take over and sleep seems like a much better idea than
sex.
Qat is also wildly popular in Yemen and Somalia and
pockets of Ethiopia, Kenya and Egypt. Everywhere it is chewed, it
tends to dominate life.
Once restricted to the affluent, it is now chewed by
men of all social classes. More and more women have started chewing in
recent years but most family budgets are barely able to sustain one
qat habit, let alone two.
"We can't afford to let our women take qat,"
said Omar, a government worker who hasn't been paid his salary in five
months but who still manages to scrape together enough cash to chew
most days. "It can only be for men.
If we all chew, what will we eat?" Advocates
describe qat as one of the most social, and least harmful, of drugs,
but critics say it creates a psychological dependency and has a
devastating effect on family incomes. In Djibouti, chewers will
typically spend between $5 and $10 a day on their qat habit.
It is by far the most important consumer item in the
country, accounting for anywhere between 25 per cent and 40 per cent
of household spending. And the leaf is not even produced in
Djibouti-it is all imported from Ethiopia, a further drain on the
resources of a country of just 600,000 people that has virtually no
agriculture or industry and lives off its port and service industries.
"Qat is a disease," said one man who is
among the small minority who does not chew and who says he is ostracized
because of it. "It takes money away from health and
education.
No one works in the afternoons so the economy cannot
grow." Government officials admit qat hits productivity but only
a brave man would call for a campaign against it. Even Djibouti's
economy minister, who does not chew, uses dubious logic to say it
helps people work longer hours.
"Qat is our beer, we use it for socializing. It
is embedded in our urban habits," Yacin Elmi Booh told Reuters.
"It does have some bad effects on health but at
the same time it helps people who need to work long hours, to keep up
with the pace." Although qat brings life to a virtual standstill,
the industry that surrounds it is a model of drive and efficiency. For
best effect, the leaf is chewed within 24 hours of being picked so
dozens of light planes fly it out of Ethiopia and Kenya into Djibouti
and Somalia every morning.
Once it hits the ground at Djibouti's airport,
taxis, private cars, jeeps and mopeds move it at breakneck speed to
every corner of the city. For the towns of Tadjourah and Obock to the
north, the qat lands in the capital and is then sent up the coast by
speedboat.
Those who move fastest make most money-a powerful
incentive in a country with heavy unemployment and a cost of living
much higher than anywhere else in the Horn of Africa. "You have
to be a fast driver and race through town," said Ali, a driver
waiting to pick up 60 kg (132 lbs) of qat at Djibouti's airport.
"The faster I can get the qat to downtown, the
better chance I have of selling it." A plane approaches to land
and the cry goes up that the qat is here. Ali and everyone else races
to the wire fence over which the precious bundles will be passed.
The rush is on.
Copyright © 2000 The Monitor -
Addis Ababa. Distributed via Africa News Online.