The perils of puffing persist

That smoking nicotine or inhaling so-called flavoured vapours are killers is common knowledge. There’s enough evidence around to justify the killer connotation. In my circle, at last count, I’ve attended funerals of 15 folk, including my elder sister, as a direct consequence of the filthy habit.

And presently I’m rubbing shoulders with friends and family who suffer from chronic emphysema, also as a result of sucking burning leaves and nicotine. The one guy, my favourite person, had one lung removed, and is now on oxygen 24/7.

All these victims have been good people. Kind people. Intelligent people. That’s what I fail to understand. How come brainy individuals who must know, and who have witnessed, the disastrous effects of what is at best a stinking habit, still fell into a trap from which escape became more and more difficult. What particularly saddens me is to see how many young girls take to the habit. No matter how much perfume they use, they stink from afar. Hey? What were at first ruby lips become withered leaves left by burning ones.

Do smokers not feel embarrassed standing in so-called smoking zones, virtually ostracised from offices, shops, airplanes, restaurants, et el. And that to suck on burning poison. At Paddington Station in the UK a wall leading to the entrance has been earmarked for smokers. They look a sorry sight, sucking and then blowing fumes at each other. Passers-by are forced to become passive smokers with its attendant dangers. How fair is that? Talk about unfairness, what of the relatives who have to care for suffering smokers, often for a long time. Sadly, smokers are unaware of, or don’t care about, smoking’s ripple effects on others.

How is it that humans born with a miracle body can stoop so low as to ruin vital parts that keep them alive? It proves the power of nicotine cannot be underestimated. It’s an evil ingredient, its sole aim to maim and kill.

This is not sermonising. Smokers don’t need sanctimonious utterings by non-smokers. What they do need is a rude reminder of the negative results of smoking, and they’re reminders from folk who love and care for them, and who wish in their heart of hearts that they resolve to give it up. Or not to start the habit in the first place. Please!

Cliff Buchler.

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