I WAS 7 AND USING DRUGS
Now clean, Nathan Rakuraku will share his story as part of a Sallies’ fundraiser
Most 7-year-olds can tie their shoes. They can brush their teeth on their own and catch a ball pretty well. They can balance on one foot, but might still need some food cut up for them. They get dirty and they’re usually just busy being kids.
At 7, Nathan Rakuraku started smoking marijuana. Between his two dysfunctional homes and the people who frequented them, he was surrounded by substances from year dot.
“I had no father. The males around me were using, and I wanted to be like them. I picked up on the bad things because I thought they were good things at that age.”
The use of methamphetamine — a mainstay at his primary house — was an inevitability for him. He left high school at 15 after getting caught stealing cash from the office. The floodgates opened. He had time, money and meth to use and sell. Meth was novel and thrilling, and he was flying higher than ever.
“When days were good, they were good,” Rakuraku said. “But when they were bad, they were really bad, like it was the end of the world.”
His own and others’ demand didn’t slow, and it quickly became vital in order to even function. He was living day to day, hit to hit.
“People talked about it like it was food . . . We called it kai. We didn’t care about food — we needed meth.”
How to help
Surprisingly he managed to hold down jobs — working at a bakery, on an assembly line and in construction — in part because he had a symbiotic relationship supplying some of his managers who used as well.
Rakuraku had a daughter in 2008 with his partner Ayla. Outside of his job, he’d almost operate like a shift worker at a mine — two weeks at the coalface selling every day in his home suburb of Manurewa, then taking a week off to stay with Ayla and their daughter in another part of Auckland. He was using constantly.
In his on weeks, he’d cruise around his regulars, offering a heavier bag to stay with clients and friends.
In 2011, his living nightmare was jolted awake by a fate that often comes with the territory. Rakuraku was sentenced to three and a half years in prison on numerous firearm and aggravated burglary charges. He made the tough decision to try not to use meth in prison, even though everything was available with the right contacts. The only way he stayed stable inside was by smoking marijuana and cigarettes.
After jail, things gradually descended back to his old normal — using and dealing — until one day last year he had a revelation.
He calls it a spiritual experience. Someway, somehow, without any prior brushes, he saw something brighter.
“I blurted out loud, ‘I’m ready to serve God’, and as I said that I was able to be myself again.”
He stopped using meth, and hasn’t used it since — cold pipe.
“My whole life I’d never known God until that experience. I’ve only known him since I’ve been off the drug, and it’s given me more than I’ve received my whole life.”
It’s been 11 months now since Rakuraku stopped using drugs. He’s 28, is still with Ayla, and between them the couple have four children. Their daughter is now 8. A fifth, another daughter girl, is expected in June — marking a year being off meth for her parents.
The Salvation Army took them in and offered their growing family support and a place to stay, food to eat, counselling, and most importantly for Rakuraku, clarity of purpose.
“I look at it like God’s given me the opportunity ... to do the right thing over the wrong thing. I want [my kids] to have the start they deserve, because I didn’t have too much of that.”
And how, after a sudden aboutface from the pipe, does he see life now?
“Bright. The world’s bright these days. Back then there was no world.”
He now has a day job driving for the Sallies, picking up people and delivering food. In early May, Rakuraku is speaking at the Salvation Army’s Red Shield Breakfast in Wellington, sharing his story and representing all of the clients the church has worked with over the past year.
His talk is part of the Red Shield Appeal from May 1 to 7, which raises funds to support the Army’s work fighting poverty.
“I’m going on a plane for the first time, but I’m only going to Wellington,” he laughed. “I never ever thought I’d get to go on a plane.”
It’ll be the highest high he’s ever had, and he couldn’t be more satisfied.