In the Sparkbrook area of Birmingham, the heart of the 35,000-strong Somali community, residents are generally religious, polite but fiercely secretive to outsiders.
This is generally a prosperous middle-class community with relatively big shops on every road and like Eastleigh suburb of Nairobi, cars parked in every available space and children running around joyfully.
Ali, a middle-aged Somali, agreed to talk to The Standard On Sunday on condition that he is not photographed. “I chew five bunches daily,” he says. “Britain is wrong to ban it because for the people from Somalia and Ethiopia it is a very important part of our tradition.”
“Our faith does not allow consumption of alcohol, so we use khat widely. Why should they ban it in the UK?” he asks.
Ali does not mince his words: “I can only think that the ban will drive the trade underground. Until the ban, we were receiving our supplies openly through the UK borders, but people now bring supplies hidden in baggage and other goods.”
His friend, Farah, joins in: “If the Government sees it fit to ban khat, what about tobacco? It also injures health and millions of Britons die due to smoking? And alcohol, so many more die from imbibing in drink. What about them?”
At Southall, near Heathrow Airport in West London, the hub of miraa sales and home of 20,000 strong-Somali community, a large number of Somalis own small shops, forex bureaux and eateries in The Green suburb of Old Southall. It is here that young Somalis congregate each evening openly chewing khat.
As in Birmingham, they refuse to be photographed, arguing that it is “haram” and “against Islam” for any Somali “even to look into a camera”.
Ahmed, a young educated Somali who speaks impeccable English and Kiswahili opens up.
“Khat is still available in Southall and one can get it anywhere here. But I am totally against the lifting of the ban. It has ruined many families and men from our community have committed suicide. It has deeply hurt our community. “Khat still comes from Kenya, collected from the airport and sold here for £5 a box.”
But why are Somalis so petrified of being photographed?
“It’s got nothing to do with religion. They are hiding their faces because they do not want to be recognised. They are on social security benefits, want to chew khat all day and do not want to work,” I am told.
Their children go to the mosque and the parents do nothing but just enjoy khat. Luckily, the younger generation does not take khat. They turn to other stimulants.”
A regular market dealing solely in khat is held at an industrial area in Southall. It is frequented largely by consumers from as far away as Cardiff, Wales, buying the leaf for personal use or to resell. Many UK Somalis have become millionaires dealing in khat. Traffickers have also been actively involved in the trade.
“There are between 50 and 60 clubs in Southall area selling khat. These clubs where our community members go are very filthy,” Ahmed said. A house in Southall – Number 15 – or the “Marfash” is the best-known centre for khat users who meet from midday to the early hours of the morning just to chew the leaf. It is one of the khat houses around Southall and consumers from neighbouring Hillingdon borough also enjoy the twig.
“Another place where you see them is near the Southall library,” says Ahmed. Abdi, a jobless man in his mid-30s, speaking to The Standard on Sunday at a social club in Southall, says: “We are largely a marginalised and victimised community in Southall, deprived of social facilities.
We are voiceless and receive little or no funding from the local council. This is one of the reasons why our people turn to khat to drown their sorrows.”
In between chewing the green leaf and spitting on the floor, his friend Hussein doubts if the ban will wipe away its usage in the UK. “If anything, I think there will be an increase. Our young people are jobless here and lack of work here is creating a much-stressed out society of youngsters. We have no future here. There is racism and our boys are accused of committing crime here.”
Generally young Somalis in the UK have made up their minds.
They say demand for khat is growing and they will consume it – legally or otherwise.
Their children go to the mosque and the parents do nothing but just enjoy khat. Luckily, the younger generation does not take khat. They turn to other stimulants.”
A regular market dealing solely in khat is held at an industrial area in Southall. It is frequented largely by consumers from as far away as Cardiff, Wales, buying the leaf for personal use or to resell. Many UK Somalis have become millionaires dealing in khat. Traffickers have also been actively involved in the trade.
“There are between 50 and 60 clubs in Southall area selling khat. These clubs where our community members go are very filthy,” Ahmed said. A house in Southall – Number 15 – or the “Marfash” is the best-known centre for khat users who meet from midday to the early hours of the morning just to chew the leaf. It is one of the khat houses around Southall and consumers from neighbouring Hillingdon borough also enjoy the twig.
“Another place where you see them is near the Southall library,” says Ahmed. Abdi, a jobless man in his mid-30s, speaking to The Standard on Sunday at a social club in Southall, says: “We are largely a marginalised and victimised community in Southall, deprived of social facilities.
We are voiceless and receive little or no funding from the local council. This is one of the reasons why our people turn to khat to drown their sorrows.”
In between chewing the green leaf and spitting on the floor, his friend Hussein doubts if the ban will wipe away its usage in the UK. “If anything, I think there will be an increase. Our young people are jobless here and lack of work here is creating a much-stressed out society of youngsters. We have no future here. There is racism and our boys are accused of committing crime here.”
Generally young Somalis in the UK have made up their minds.
They say demand for khat is growing and they will consume it – legally or otherwise.
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