RECOVERING ADDICT AIMS TO 'DIE CLEAN'

Twenty-Six-Year-Old Josiah Rambally To Participate In The
Second-Annual Anti-Drug March In Lacombe On April 15

Lacombe Globe -- "I'm a riff-raff, a reject and a recycle that's been
reformed," says 26-year-old Josiah Rambally, in between mouthfuls of
his beverage at a Lacombe coffee shop.

Vibrant, articulate and bright, the third-year religious studies
student at Canadian University College (CUC) doesn't fit the mould of
how a drug addict should look or act.

Josiah's drug use is also inconsistent with his upbringing. Raised in
a strong Christian family amid luxurious surroundings on the island
of St. Lucia in the Caribbean, he's the namesake son of a respected
physician who, ironically, runs a drug treatment centre. His mother
is studying to obtain her PhD in psychology.

Josiah's life should've been an open road to success. But it wasn't,
and he's struggled with addiction half his life.

In The Beginning

"I was probably a full-blown alcoholic at 14," Josiah recalls of his
early teens, when he'd often consume a dozen rums in one afternoon.
But life wasn't always that way. Childhood was a wonderful time, with
wonderful memories.

The Ramballys lived in one of St. Lucia's nicest homes, overlooking
the ocean. Josiah enjoyed himself, using his spare time to play beach
volleyball or cruise around on a speedy cigarette boat in the
Caribbean sunshine.

In spite of this, Josiah describes his adolescent world as fractured,
mired in self-pity. While his parents were "hooked on doing good
deeds," for others, Josiah felt neglected.

Lonely and spiteful of an unjust world, Josiah felt controlled by his
parent's strict beliefs. A fight about attending a friend's birthday
led to something darker--rebellion--which took the shape of a bottle.

He sought to satisfy his legitimate needs with the most illegitimate
methods. He got drunk for the first time. It didn't end there.

"I did everything I shouldn't have been doing," he recalls.

'Everything' included lying, drinking heavily, sexual promiscuity,
smoking marijuana and getting kicked out of "lots of high schools."

Josiah's world spiraled downward. Soon he was hanging out with St.
Lucia's most well known drug lords, considered legitimate businessmen
by many, but feared at the same time.

The local police commissioner, a friend of Josiah Sr., recommended
the teen be sent away, both for his safety and the family's reputation.

Josiah found himself in Los Angeles, where he lived for two years.

"The first year was a mess," he says. Life improved the second year,
when Josiah discovered tennis and channeled his energy into sport. As
his game strengthened, he won a championship in Pasadena, Calif.

The Spiral Deepens

The good times didn't last. During a trip home to St. Lucia during
the summer of 1997, Josiah developed a full-fledged marijuana
addiction, buying pot by "the bucket full" with friends.

By the time Josiah arrived for university in Winnipeg later that
fall, addiction was in full control.

"My appetite was insatiable and I couldn't afford to maintain my
habit," he says.

At 17, Josiah was also smoking two packs of cigarettes a day, drank
heavily and was increasingly promiscuous.

"For the next two years it was mayhem. I was a full-blown addict,
robbing folks, jumping out of trees, beating guys for a case of beer."

Eventually the law caught up with Josiah, and he was sentenced to
three months community service.

That was when he encountered a new light in his life, a "crazy guy"
by the name of Pastor Ishmael Ali.

Love Is Universal

"He was real with me," says Josiah. "There was no fronting, no pie in the sky."

Ali, now a pastor at Garden Road Seventh-day Adventist Church in
Calgary, vividly recalls the first time he met Josiah in the foyer of
his church in Winnipeg.

"I don't think he knew where he was," says Ali, who's had experience
dealing with drug addicts and street people. "He was a character who
was deep into drugs. You wouldn't even want to talk to him."

It wasn't long before Ali tried to take the young man under his wing.
"I looked at him and saw a young man with potential." But Josiah
wasn't always willing to learn or be taught.

"He would hide from me as a deer hides from a hunter," says Ali. "He
lived a reckless life."

When using heavily, Josiah avoided Ali, who spent part of three weeks
searching for the youth. He'd knock on Josiah's door. No answer. He'd
return, again no answer. Finally, the pastor set a trap. He parked
his car underneath a tree, out of view of Josiah's apartment. The
trap was set for a confrontation.

The experience was a turning point in Josiah's life, particularly
when Ali asked, 'Why do you treat me so bad?'

"I felt like somebody cared," Josiah explained. "It was the beginning
of the (healing) process."

Ali credits Josiah's father, with whom he was in constant contact
during the troublesome years, for supporting his child "100 per
cent." To this day Josiah says his dad is the nicest person he knows.

By the time he enrolled at CUC in 1999, Josiah was determined to live
his life on the straight and arrow. But, it wasn't long before his
past caught up with him. With outstanding charges still pending from
his old lifestyle, Josiah spent semester break during his first year
in jail. It's information he didn't volunteer with most of his classmates.

After he returned, he struggled forward.

Second Disease Strikes

Disease controlled Josiah again during the summer of 2000, but this
time it wasn't addiction. He was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer.

"It just about killed me," he says of the radiation treatment that
bombarded the cancer cells in his body. "I was like a burned lizard."

Although now recovered and currently cancer free, it wasn't long
before he experienced another setback. Addiction.

This time the drug was much harder, with even stronger consequences.
Crack cocaine. Josiah began using after campus life soured in 2003.

Everything he'd gained was gone, sucked back through a pipe for
15-worry-free minutes.

Ready For Help

Josiah realized he needed treatment and quietly checked into rehab in
Vancouver, where he entered a self-esteem program he credits for
changing his world view.

"It really flipped the whole paradigm for me," he says. He learned
valuable tools and lessons to feel better about himself, the most
powerful being, "People's opinions of me will never change God's plans for me."

Josiah realized conflict isn't worth it.

"It's better to be happy than to be right."

Josiah spent much of last year performing missionary work in the
jungles of South America. Since his return he's relied on a regimen
of 12-step programs to maintain his sobriety.

"Alcohol or drugs is not the primary problem, it's a secondary
problem," he explains. Working through his feelings has helped him
find footing. It's much more difficult that 'just saying no.'

"People who don't know about addiction or compulsive behaviour can't
understand addiction," Josiah says. Telling an addict to stop is
pointless. The only language all addicts understand is love, he adds.

But, addicts must also be ready to quit. They can't fantasize about
being able to indulge for special occasions, or using casually.

"There is no middle ground," says Josiah. "If you want to get high,
you haven't seen enough."

The lessons Josiah's learned have been powerfully rewarding, but he
wishes they hadn't come with so much sacrifice.

When he's finished school, Josiah hopes to continue using his
experiences to teach others, hoping to preach in the Third World. His
old friend, Pastor Ali, believes he'll excel in such a role.

"He has a passion for the broken and downtrodden," Ali says.

"He accepts people for who they are and will work with anyone no
matter their background or religion. I'm extremely proud of that young man."

No matter what Josiah gains, he knows there is no way to beat
addiction. No cure waits around the corner.

"I will beat alcoholism when I die clean. That's the only way, when
you die clean."