MY DATE WITH MR MURUNGI

With a smile, Ali told me that it would be the trip of a lifetime.
Unforgettable. The room fell silent as he spoke, the men at the tables
watched as he spelled out the details of the deal. All I had to do was
travel to New York with two suitcases, check into a first-class hotel and
wait for the pick-up. I was to be paid a fee and expenses to cover airfares
and the hotel. As soon as the consignment was collected, I could do as I
liked. "Enjoy yourself," Ali said, smiling again.

We were in a shabby room overlooking a London high street. Around 20 men
were sitting on sofas and at tables - watching and, it seemed, willing me
to accept Ali's illegal proposal. They all knew what the suitcases would
contain.

The stuff was all around us, and I could see what it was doing to the men
who were chewing it. Their eyes were glazed, bloodshot. Some were animated,
others seemed stupefied. These are the visible effects of the drug they
call murungi. The hidden effects can be terrifying.

Murungi is a potent form of khat, or qat - a leaf which, when chewed and
absorbed into the bloodstream, produces a sense of well-being and boundless
energy. In high doses it can cause hallucinations, paranoia and madness.
Ali, who wanted me to smuggle two cases of it into America - where it is
banned as a dangerous narcotic - is London's Mr Murungi. He operates from a
place they call Cafe Buz in Old Southall. It is one of several murungi dens
in this area, where men come to buy the drug and sit around for hours,
chewing and getting high.

Some well-intentioned community workers say the leaf is part of the culture
of certain ethnic minorities, especially those from eastern Africa and
Yemen. Muslims use it as a substitute for alcohol, they say. According to
the benign view of murungi, it is relatively harmless and it is not banned
in Britain. But there is a growing body of opinion that says murungi is a
pernicious drug that takes an appalling toll on those who use it. The World
Health Organisation has ordered a study of its effects after worrying
reports from medical authorities.

London has become the hub of an illicit international trade. The leaves are
grown in Kenya and Ethiopia and flown into Heathrow daily.

One of the biggest importers was Amarjit Chohan, the Asian businessman
whose body was found floating off Bournemouth pier last month. He had been
murdered. His wife Nancy, mother-in-law Charanjit Kaur and two infant sons
are still missing, presumed dead.

Chohan brought large quantities of murungi into Britain through his
company, and there are suspicions that his murder and the disappearance of
his family are connected to drug dealing. One man has been charged with his
murder and two others are being hunted by police.

Smuggling murungi into the United States is a major growth area among
narcotics dealers. In 1992 US customs seized 800kg. In 2001 they seized an
astonishing 37 tonnes - a 5,000 per cent increase. In America, where its
use is spreading beyond minority ethnic groups to college kids and the
ghettos, it commands a street price that makes it a highly lucrative
commodity for smugglers - men like Ali.

Ali was described to me as the man who knew everything about importing and
exporting murungi. When we met he was relaxed and friendly and keen to
recruit me into what he said was his team of couriers. We talked at Cafe
Buz, where he is a respected figure; around 25 years old, well-dressed and
charming, he stands out among the sad-looking characters chewing themselves
into a stupor.

Ali claimed he made regular murungi deliveries all over the United States.
In Britain it is prized for its affordability - around £10 for a handful of
leafy stalks, enough for a 24-hour "buzz" - but in America its illegality
makes it more expensive. The Drugs Enforcement Agency estimates the street
price at up to $50 - around £30 for a bunch.

"I use four to five different airlines to fly the stuff to the United
States," Ali said. "I want you to go to New York. How would you like to
spend two nights in Manhattan?"

He laughed expansively. He said he sends five people a week across the
Atlantic, and he outlined the type of person he requires for the job. "You
have to be British with a British passport," he said. "I like using young
people like yourself because they look confident and innocent. You must
dress well, wear a suit and do not be afraid. You will not be stopped. I
have many people doing this for me. You can meet them if you wish."

It was obvious from his relaxed manner that Ali felt secure in the fastness
of Cafe Buz, surrounded by his friends. Some suck on shisha pipes and a
sign, hung among the African tapestries on the wall, reads: "VIP Lounge.
Minimum charge £7". At £5 a bunch for the best Ethiopian murungi, flown in
fresh to Heathrow, VIP status comes cheap at Cafe Buz. This is one of the
reasons the drug is causing such concern.

One of Ali's associates joins the discussion, saying: "You will fly to New
York tomorrow. You will stay two nights or more if you wish. Then you will
fly home. If you like it, you can tell your friends and they can go too."

But what about the risk? "We lose maybe only one per cent of the suitcases
that we send to America," Ali said smoothly. "And even then, they will not
arrest you. If they find what is in the cases they will take the cases and
throw them away and they will send you back to England. But you will not be
arrested."

Really? Are the notoriously stringent US customs officers so relaxed in
their attitude to murungi?

Of course they are not. DEA spokesman Will Glaspy tells me: "There are two
substances in khat which are classified as controlled substances in the
United States. These are cathinone and cathine. If we were to find someone
bringing two cases of khat into the country they would almost certainly be
arrested.

"There is no maximum sentence for this offence. For some drug offences here
you can be sentenced to life imprisonment."

While it is unlikely that a young person, offending for the first time,
would receive such a penalty, smuggling murungi into the United States
could still be disastrous for such a "mule", as couriers of banned
substances are known.

There was a whiff of the underworld about the enterprise when Ali gave me
my instructions: "I will call you tomorrow and tell you where to meet me.
You will not come here again - I do not want your face to be known. When
you get the call you will put on a suit, take some nice clothes for your
holiday and come to meet me. We will then take you to Heathrow. When you
get to America someone will collect the bags. They will pay for the hotel -
two days - and take the bags from you.

"They will also give you £250 spending money. Don't worry about it. You
won't get caught. I have been sending people to America like this for ten
years." He smiled again and put his hand on my arm. "You can trust me," he
said.

Despite claims in some quarters that murungi is little more than a mild
stimulant, it is illegal not just in the US but most of Europe. And
community leaders among the ethnic groups that use it say it is dangerous.

Dr Iain Murray-Lyon, a gastroenterologist at London's Charing Cross
Hospital, has studied the effects of the generic leaf, khat, on long-term
users. He says: "There are some reports of people becoming psychotic with
heavy use, although that's rare. I had one patient who was a Yemeni student
and a heavy user, and was in a schizophrenic state. He was paranoid and
quite illogical and had all sorts of delusional ideas. He was immediately
committed under the Mental Health Act."

A spokesperson for the drugs charity Drugscope describes khat as "a
stimulant drug with effects similar to amphetamine. Chewing it makes people
feel more alert and talkative and suppresses the appetite, although users
describe an ensuing calming effect when used over a few hours.

"Regular use may lead to insomnia, anorexia and anxiety. In some cases it
may make people feel more irritable and angry and possibly violent.
Psychological dependence can result from regular use, so that users feel
depressed and low unless they keep taking it."

This is what makes murungi so dangerous, according to Hassan Isse of the
Somali Khat Project - set up to try to protect users from the ill-effects
of the drug. In Somalia, he says, khat leaves are chewed as a recreational
and social stimulant. But in Britain expatriates abuse it and end up
mentally ill.

"In some parts of London five or six out of every ten people in mental
health units are Somalis," he says. "Most of their problems are linked to
khat. And the trouble is that when they come out of the units there is no
programme to help them. So, a year later, they are straight back in."

The worrying trend is that murungi use is beginning to spread beyond the
ethnic groups to young people, for whom it provides a cheap fix. One
19-year-old tells me: "You start chewing at three in the afternoon and
you're still going 24 hours later."

Drug workers estimate there are around 1,000 shops selling khat leaves,
including murungi and the less potent hereri, in London. Tonnes of it
arrive fresh at Heathrow every day. As Ali explained to me, there is no
shortage of supply. I said I would consider his offer and we parted at Cafe
Buz. In the street, a group of men lounged listlessly, their eyes
bloodshot, telltale green flecks at the corner of their mouths. Here, and
on the other side of the Atlantic, people like this are making Ali rich -
certainly rich enough to tempt young women into risking their liberty to
undertake a "trip of a lifetime".

Khat Facts

Origins

Khat, from the Catha Edulis tree, originated in Ethiopia and spread to
Kenya, Malawi, Uganda, Tanzania, Arabia, the Congo, Zimbabwe, Zambia,
Madagascar, South Africa and Yemen. Much of the khat consumed in Britain
comes from Kenya and Ethiopia.

Cultivation

Khat is harvested in small quantities throughout the year - it loses
potency if stored for any great length of time. It requires no fertiliser
and thrives when interplanted. Khat's dependence on water has actually
facilitated technological advancements in the areas where it is grown,
especially Yemen.

Usage

The first recorded usage of khat comes in 13th-century literature from the
Arabian Penisular. It was prescribed by physicians to treat depression and
general lack of energy, and also for malaria and chest infections. Khat was
utilised by peasants and soldiers to increase their working or fighting
capacity through its stimulant effects. After the US Army's 1993 debacle in
Mogadishu, some military sources commented on the usage of Khat by
militiamen fighting for Somalian warlords, saying it increased their
bravery and pliability.

Economics

Khat has been cited as a major problem for the economies of Ethiopia,
Yemen, Djibouti and other countries, partly because, it is suggested,
nearly every family spends one third of its disposable income on the drug.
A further problem with khat is the "Mafia-like" control over production and
distribution. For example, in 1983, then-Somali president Siad Barre banned
khat and called for food crops. However, the ban was repealed in 1990,
apparently after the khat trade had been placed in the hands of his
administration, triggering accusations that such a transfer of control had
been the intent of the ban in the first place.