An Early Acquaintance
My story with drink is long and
interesting, yet these days I do not have a ready palate for alcohol.
My first taste of alcohol came with
palm wine. My paternal grandfather had palm trees; though I do not think he was
ever a palm wine tapper, he had the kind of demeanour that suggests he might
have clambered up a tree at some point in his youth.
Traditional alcohol was offered to
children, but bottled alcohol was completely forbidden.
At ten, away from my parents, I did
drink Tennent's Light, a low-percentage lager in a can. None of the adults
frowned on my consumption, and I always drank in moderation; there was never a
second one, even when offered.
Lessons from the Brewery
My first job, at fifteen, was in a
brewery, where I worked in the laboratory; I doubt I would have been allowed
that opportunity outside Nigeria. My days were spent testing water quality,
peering at dead yeast cells drawn from the fermentation tanks, and running
quality-control checks at the end of the production line. There was enough in
all of that to put me off lager, and consequently beer, ale, and cider.
Strong drink was an acquired taste
that I eschewed rather than developed.
Yet in my family we have no history of
the abuse of drink or drunkenness; everyone held their drink with dignity, and
it would appear that more of the generations close to mine are teetotallers.
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A Discipline of My Own
In social settings, I drink wine,
preferably with meals, and never alone. It is a standard and a discipline I
have set for myself, and I find the loss of self-control brought on by drink
you have chosen to consume, rather than been forced to ingest, literally
contemptible. Even the wine I enjoy is rarely more than a single glass, and I
doubt I drink more than once in two months.
Once I had a sherry, from a bottle the
barman probably had to prise out from a mooring of cobwebs spun by spiders long
deceased, kept well out of sight, and then a glass of port, which does go well
with Stilton cheese. I was soon sick all over the place, at home.
At any sense of feeling tipsy, I never
wait for my legs to give way beneath me; one instance of apparent inebriation
was a lesson for a lifetime. I also refuse to lend my tongue to the looseness
that alcohol affords, as some people, who are no longer friends, once did to
break the friendship.
Carried in the Blood
I do, however, appreciate that people
have a drink problem for all sorts of reasons, including a congenital
predisposition, for which there might be a need for intervention if a person
has lost the levers of moderation.
There are those for whom the pull
towards drink is not merely habit but something carried in the blood. A
grandparent or great-grandparent who could not master it may leave a
predisposition that surfaces generations later, and I would not dismiss that as
fancy; the science of inheritance is real enough.
Yet a predisposition is a tendency,
not a sentence. It explains the steepness of the hill; it does not excuse
refusing to climb. Indeed, the one who knows such a weakness runs in the family
has all the more reason to be watchful, for he has been warned by his own
lineage.
Recognising a Problem
Even so, that warning is of little use
to the person who will not hear it, and denial remains the first obstacle. I
know people who will not admit they have a drink problem. You definitely have
one if you soon lapse into incoherence and find that the marshalling of your
faculties has deserted you.
In some cases, it is borderline; and
when at the border, we cannot assume it has not already been crossed.
Whether there are excuses that stand
the test of reason is debatable, but steeling yourself for any endeavour should
not be achieved through Dutch courage, for it is a prop that would soon
collapse under the pressure of application.
Wisdom from Proverbs
While my greater abstemiousness from
alcohol is not religious, you only have to visit the Book of Proverbs to read
the many admonitions regarding alcohol.
Proverbs 31:4-7
4
It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine; nor for
princes strong drink:
5 Lest they drink, and forget the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the
afflicted.
6 Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that
be of heavy hearts.
7 Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.
And yes, there are places where wine
is the bringer of joy and festivity, as in the ritual use of wine in religious
service; but in each case, one would expect controlled and measured use.
Elsewhere, in Proverbs 20:1
1
Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is
not wise.
These verses all suggest that the
abuse of alcohol leads to unfortunate consequences. The refuge of drink opens
the door to foolishness, destruction, and forgetfulness of the essence of
living; there is nothing productive in it.
A Final Word
Before I come across as preachy, I am
not advocating a temperance movement or a form of prohibition, but moderation that can still be moderated. For those who drink to excess, you leave those close to you,
who do not partake as much, all the more worried that you have already taken a
few too many.
And if, on reading this, you recognise
yourself in these words, do not take it as an accusation but as a hand held
out. If this is you, there is no shame in the recognition; there is only the
next, better step.
Most importantly, seek help, because
there is a great deal of help out there. Wherever you are, a first step is
often as near as your own doctor. Alcoholics Anonymous and Al-Anon operate in
most countries, and many nations run free, confidential helplines; a local
search, or a word with a trusted clinician, will point you to what exists near
you.
Alcoholics Anonymous
(AA) – Wikipedia
