My Last Smoke – My Testimony

My biological father grew up in a village in the Eastern Region of Ghana and, according to him, picked up the habit of smoking marijuana at a very young age from friends in the village. This habit followed him into adulthood. Growing up in our household, I remember seeing him smoke on a few occasions, and in the very early mornings the smell of marijuana often lingered in the house. My mother spent much of our childhood complaining about it and, at one point, even brought her siblings to speak to my father about his habit, but nothing changed. As a result, from a young age, having seen my father smoke, it naturally became something I was curious about. Around the age of 13 or 14, my older brother and I experimented with smoking raw paper once or twice.

When I completed my Basic Education Certificate Examination (B.E.C.E), I was extremely excited and could not wait to get to Senior High School (SHS). I had heard stories about what went on there, including smoking, and that was secretly one of the reasons I wanted to make it into SHS. 

I gained admission to a senior high school in Accra to study Visual Arts. I had the option to change the course because I was not particularly artistic, but I decided to go ahead with it anyway. It did not seem as demanding as other courses like Science or Business.

Not long after school started, I became drawn to the bad boys in my class. Within the first few months, we began skipping classes and going into town just to gallivant. Whenever school was about to go on vacation, we would get invited to parties and nightclubs. We saved up money to buy new shoes and clothes just so we could attend these events.

One day, when we skipped school, a close friend of mine called J bought a pack of cigarettes. I asked him to give me one, and that was the first time I smoked. I did not really know how to smoke, but because I had watched others do it, I pretended it was not my first time. I wanted to cough badly, but I knew that if I did, they would immediately know I was new to it, so I tried my best to hold it in. After a few puffs, I felt fine. From then on, it became a habit. After school, we would go and buy cigarettes to smoke. Whenever we went to clubs and parties, we would also step outside just to smoke.

This habit continued until a young man joined my class in the second year. Apparently, he had been expelled from one of the prominent male-only Senior High Schools in Cape Coast for smoking marijuana. After a while, he joined our clique, and then introduced us to marijuana.

Our first experience with it came when he mixed it into some food we had bought. All hell broke loose for me. I had never experienced anything like that before. A few minutes after eating the food, my thoughts began to race uncontrollably. Nothing felt normal. When we got to class, I couldn’t concentrate. A teacher was teaching, and I asked for permission to go to the restroom. She refused. “Owusu, go and sit down,” she said. I obeyed for a short while, but I was feeling increasingly sick. My mind was racing, and I felt like something was seriously wrong with me. My friends who had eaten the food with me knew exactly what was happening. The kingpin of the group, whom we will call “P”, told me to sit quietly. I couldn’t. The next minute, I ran out of the classroom. Everyone laughed, thinking it was just my usual jovial nature or that I was being defiant to the teacher.

I eventually made my way to the sick bay and told them I wasn’t feeling well. They gave me some painkillers, and afterwards, whatever heavy weight had been on me seemed to lift. However, I became extremely tired, low in spirit, and my eyes were very red. For days after, I felt down. A few weeks later, I decided to try marijuana again, this time by smoking it. The experience was the same. I felt sick, overwhelmed with thoughts, and as though I was dying. After that, I decided marijuana wasn’t for me. I went back to smoking cigarettes instead, because they didn’t give me that experience.

Now I realised that I could not live without smoking cigarettes. I could smoke three or four sticks a day, and whenever I stepped out to a club, I would smoke between ten to fifteen sticks. This habit continued until I finished secondary school, and it followed me straight into my university years. Throughout my time at the university, after lectures, I would often go to a bar and smoke cigarettes. It was a terrible habit! Even when you buy cigarettes, the warning is written clearly on the pack that “smokers die young”, and that “smoking causes cancer and respiratory diseases”. Yet, for whatever reason, I did not care. Addiction has a way of blinding you to the side effects; you think only of the temporary pleasure.

The real truth is that smoking cigarettes also had its own effects on me. There were days I became very feverish after smoking, but afterwards I still went back to it. At times, I had serious stomach problems when I smoked, yet I did not want to quit. By this point, as you can tell, I had become addicted to cigarettes. Anytime I was stressed, I turned to smoking because it gave me a cool, relaxing effect. There were days I tried to quit, but I couldn’t. The habit grew worse when doors opened for me to travel abroad from Ghana. European and American societies were more liberal, and because of the cold weather, smoking there felt normal. So anytime I travelled, I smoked more than I did when I was in Ghana.

I remember that sometime in 2009, I tried to quit on my own and I succeeded. I went a whole year without smoking. All went well until I faced a personal challenge, which I cannot recall now, and then a thought crossed my mind: who told you to quit smoking? Immediately that thought came, I went back to smoking.

This continued until 2017, when I decided to take God seriously by going to church with my then girlfriend, who today is my wife. She invited me to church, and as time went on, I began taking services seriously. There were days I went to church and, immediately after the service, I drove a few metres away, bought cigarettes, and smoked. However, at this point, the frequency of my smoking had significantly reduced.

I personally drew closer to God by reading the Bible, listening to sermons, and attending church consistently. Gradually, I found myself smoking once every two weeks, and then it reduced to once a month. The Bible says in Matthew 4:16, “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death, Light has dawned.” I was sitting in the darkness of smoking, but when I began to draw closer to God, who is Light, the light began to extinguish the darkness. It may not happen in an instant, but it will definitely happen. Getting close to God and reading the Word of God, I admit that at the time I did not understand everything, but I knew that something was drawing me closer to the light.

Now to the last smoke. The last time I smoked was in December 2017. I woke up around 12am to go outside my house to catch a smoke. This time, when I smoked, there was something very off about the cigarette. I felt that something was missing. The cool, relaxing effect had completely vanished. I smoked just one stick and went back to sleep.

A few days later, I called my wife and told her I was ready to quit smoking, but I wanted her to pray for me. I gathered all the packs of cigarettes, lighters, and some tobacco I had bought. She prayed over them, and together we put everything in the trash bin. That was the last of it. The appetite for smoking vanished completely.

However, I also put many physical measures and intentional actions in place. For the first few years, I decided not to be around smokers. Anytime I went somewhere and someone began to smoke, I would leave the place entirely. I adopted a quieter, more disciplined lifestyle and avoided environments like pubs and clubs where temptation was high. Today, even if I find myself somewhere in Europe and people are smoking, I do not feel any urge; but it took time and discipline to get there.

We are in 2026, and it has been over eight years since I stopped smoking. I replaced that habit with going to church, reading the Bible, and engaging in other positive things. Even now, I still feel in my breathing the effects of over ten years of cigarette addiction. 

Jesus delivered me, but I had to give Him a chance. I admitted that I needed help, and I prayed. I also put certain measures in place, and to this day, I still pray for the grace never to go back. I am sure you may ask what happened to my father. He also quit smoking at some point in his life.

I pray for anyone suffering from a similar addiction. May God set you free right now in Jesus’ mighty name (John 8:36).