The month of January usually finds university campus grounds eerily empty. It’s a time of the year when first semester exams are just around the corner. Sometimes referred to as Ye’Genna Maebel (Christmas Storm), this time of year is feared because the outcome of the exams can decide whether a student stays in school or has to leave. So there is no time for conversation, relaxation or socialization; it’s time for all students to button down and study like there’s no tomorrow to ensure their survival on campus for another year.

Even the campus cafeteria – normally the scene where the hottest campus news and gossip (also known as PD or ‘Personal Data’) is freely dispensed – is unusually empty. The joteni (foosball) and ping-pong tables have fallen silent and the dama (checkers) gurus have also taken leave of their stands. When you do see the occasional student on a campus pathway, it is quite likely that he may be heading back to his dorm with a zurba (roll of khat) hidden under a shirt.

There are those students who are normally referred to as sekayochu (those who achieve high grades on their exams), some of whom are thought to rely heavily on khat (a narcotic stimulant) to help keep them awake during long nights of studying. This is especially true for the procrastinators who feel like they need every bit of advantage that the alertness and increased ability to concentrate that are known to be effects of chewing khat, can bestow. But its use on college campuses, goes far beyond just a select group amongst those who achieve the best results on campus.

The attraction of the habit may be due in part to the perception that it helps keep students awake and alert so that they can gain the upper hands over those who don’t use khat – the so called ‘oxygen students’. Of course there are those who bring the habit with them when they come to campus in the first place but the majority of users on a campus tend to pick up the habit on campus especially in the recent past in which usage by students seems to have skyrocketed.

For khat vendors, exam time is the best time for lucrative business. Anecdotal data from vendors suggests that especially during this time, a substantial portion of their daily sales is due to college students. At Debub University near Hawassa, it probably wouldn’t be a stretch to say that khat usage touched over 50% of its students in the early 2000’s, probably more today.

Of course, there are the other students who use khat just for pleasure. These are probably students that have come from regions known for high khat production and consumption. Furthermore, there are also regions where khat is sometimes used for religious purposes. The propensity for this habit to propagate itself throughout the student body is due to several factors. Beyond the expected benefits of alertness and forced insomnia, the close setting of dormitory life on Ethiopian campuses plays a role as well. Dormitories are often shared between 6-8 students and in some cases many more. The communal and sometimes elaborate nature of how khat is chewed may also encourage students to join in so they don’t feel left out.

Usually, half a dozen students gather at someone’s dormitory and prepare their mats for a good session of bercha (the act of chewing khat). The temptation to join in isn’t just about the khat either. After all, these sessions are where PD’s are exchanged, analyzed and even invented. Beyond personal data, there is a concept known as ‘Tibs Ye’Mirkina Wore’ – basically translating into ‘hot conversation brought about by a khat high’. Gossip, politics, philosophy and jokes are all a part of this steamy mix and a common staple for recreational khat use on campus.

It is in fact illegal to bring khat on campus. But even if someone is apprehended with the goods, an easy excuse is to say “Ye’Harar lij negne.” (I’m from Harar) and somehow that seems to make everything ok since this is an activity which is very common in that area. Speaking of getting apprehended, the number of ways in which students try to evade detection when smuggling khat onto campus, seems to be growing every year.

The typical approach which has worked for the past few years is cutting the khat into small pieces, preparing it in a chewable form known as atrira and packing it in a handy, easy to hide plastic bag. The bag is then placed in some untouchable part of the body or in a book or inside shoes to help it pass through the mandatory pat down at the campus gate. If methods like this don’t work, then the best bet may be to recruit a girl who will carry it through the main entrance for a friend since their searches tend to be much less thorough than their male counterparts.

But in recent years, the girls haven’t just been smuggling the khat in, an increasing number are becoming users themselves. As a matter of fact, enforcement of no-khat rules could be a lot stronger than it is today. Not much monitoring of dormitories is conducted and even the guards at campus gates may let a zurba in after stripping off a few stalks for themselves. In some ways, it seems to mirror the love/hate relationship this country seems to have with khat – at once increasingly popular domestically (not to mention one of the nation’s top exports) but surrounded by a confusing array of laws that seem to want to restrict its use.

Written by Mina Yirga - Horizon Ethiopia Staff Writer