Smoking Weed Made Me See Ghosts


So my mouth has been a virgin to anything smoking but that changed yesterday. I decided to forgo by non smoking ways and jump into the very deep end of smoking.

The question was not if I should smoke. I had passed that stage. The question lingering in my mind was what to smoke.

Do I smoke cigarettes?
I picked up a pack of Benson and Hedges and saw “SMOKERS ARE LIABLE TO DIE YOUNG” boldly written on the back of every pack I picked.

I am not even thirty yet and not even engaged talkless of married, why would I smoke something that would make me liable to die young.

Cigarettes are out of it.

The next option from my dubious research was weed aka indian hemp aka skunk aka SK aka marijuana.

I was informed that weed was “medicinal” and unlike cigarettes has no ill effects on the lung.

Long story short, smoking weed doesn’t make one liable to die young.


I will smoke weed then.

I bought a chunk of weed and bought a wrap called “riztler” or sth with that sound used to wrap the weed.

While strolling to my house, I decided to test the weed (biggest mistake of my life).

I branched into a bush, removed the seeds in the weed, placed it amateurishly into the riztler, wrapped it up and lit a match.

My first seven puffs were accompanied by long bouts of coughs. As the learner I am.

By the eighth puff, I was turning into a “professional” and the effect of the weed was taking over me.

Overwhelmingly so.

Then I stood up from the stone I had made my stool and decided to head home but no taxi on that route at that time of the night, so I started recalling old comedies and started laughing on my own.

The more I thought about them, the more I laughed.

It started to rain when I decided I had to hitch a ride home or the rain would spoil my fine boy swag.

Suddenly a Range Rover jeep stopped by my side. I quickly jumped into the passenger’s side and closed the door.

All of a sudden the car started moving, and just when I was about to say thank you to the driver, I discovered there was no one in the car.

I started to freak out but was too scared to jump out of a moving vehicle.

When the car got to a bend, a hand came in through the driver’s window and turned the steering wheel. This happened twice and on the third time I totally freaked out, jumped out of the car screaming and landed in a ditch full of rain water.

I got up and ran for my dear life and entered the nearest bar I found.

It was a Friday night so the bar was filled with people looking to catch their groove.

I enterer the bar, panting profusely.

“Waiter”, I screamed.

Bring me two bottles of Odeku.

“Yez Za”, she replied.

After downing like four bottles of Odeku (two others followed suit almost immediately after the first two) and narrating my ghost story to anyone who cared to listen, I started hearing voices.

The first voice said “Bros you know you are a fine boy?”

I replied smiling “Before nkoh”

Another voice sounding like a lady’s voice said “Fine boy remove your shirt, let us see your six packs”.

Before I could say Jack Robinson, I saw my shirt on the floor.

Till now, I don’t know if I removed the shirt myself or the shirt removed itself.

The same voice continued, “Fine boy, remove your jean trousers”.

Without questioning the rationale behind that command, I had removed my trousers.

While I was struggling with these inner voices, three guys walked into the same bar all drenched in rain water.

One of them pointed at me and said, “Isn’t that the mad man who entered the car while we were pushing it”?

As I am writing this, I am still high so I don’t know if this is a true story or the effect of the weed making me hallucinate.

But one thing is sure.

Anything that makes you do things unconsciously and out of character is evil.

Anything that makes you hear voices that is not the voice of God is evil.

Weed is evil.

Never again.




Story by Ayo
Edited by Kurtis Smith
Culled from

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