Some two comments in that blog cracked me up…
Naomi
09.05.2017
My first (and only) puff made me laugh uncontrollably I thought I was going mad. The cloud nine they talk about, that puff took me there. But it wasn’t something I wanted to try again. Guess I wasn’t ready for that sort of happiness.
My brother used to tell us that it made him feel like Commando. Growing up he wanted to be a soldier (it never happened) and I think Cannabis made him feel like one. When high he would walk into a club and start stupid fights with anyone which of course he never won since he was a tiny man.
His opponents were always big men. I think the weed turned them into dwarfs in his eyes. One time he even walked into a police station to challenge the big boys into a fight. The rest is history.
Kevine
09.05.2017
My uncle smokes it. He started smoking it in his high school days and he’s still going strong on it.
During those days, he would take two of his friends and disappear into the orchard behind the home. What ensued was a series of incoherrent stories punctuated with bursts of laughter. He had planted so much weed in the banana plantation tha the cargo was never in short supply all the year round.
One day, my grandpa noticed that his son was growing weed. He went inside the banana farm and uprooted everything. Well, that is the day I noticed weed was not Vegetable.
My uncle got wind of what was happening at home and came back so fast. He seized his father (my grandpa) by the scruff and lifted him to the air. When he came back down, my uncle hit him hard on the balls and the old man screamed like a baby.
My grandma, who was weeding by then, heard the commotion and came running to help her husband. My uncle piled her together with grandpa and continued beating them. He was slapping them in turns as they wailed for help.
My cousins and I just stood there trasfixed, wondering what was happening. We were tiny kids who were still eating “slept ugali” at home while people went to school or work. I had not started going to school but the scene is still fresh in my memory.
My grandpa mourned his testicles for many years after that incident and continued to curse his son until the time of his demise.
My uncle still lives but his story can be told in episodes.
Even though weed produces hemp, I don’t think it is strong enough a fiber to weave social morals.