What does iboga do? A Norwegian article about iboga.

Written by Henrik Hays Nilsen and Dimitri (photo)

Can the root bark of an African plant eliminate all heroin cravings? Is iboga a miracle for drug addicts? Or is it a witch’s powder used outside of all medical control?

We are in an underground detox clinic in Valencia, Spain. The patient is completely awake, although he has not slept or eaten for more than 24 hours. Except for a gram of psychoactive alkaloids from the Tabernanthe iboga plant.

A handful of iboga root bark can evoke life-changing experiences for those who dare, but it is the bark’s effect on substance addiction that has attracted the most attention. It is not known exactly what this plant does or how, only that it reasonably and reliably reduces cravings for opiates such as heroin, as well as sending the user on a dissociative psychedelic trip that lasts up to a short week. This last aspect is a source of criticism and controversy. Supporters say it is precisely the challenging journey that gives the plant its life-changing potential.

In Gabon, Africa, the Bwiti have used iboga for several hundred years during ceremonies. Only in the 1960s did this gospel find its way to the northwest, when 19-year-old Howard Lotsof stumbled upon iboga. The opiate-addicted teenager found it a paradox that the root bark eliminated his craving for opiates. Since Lotsof’s discovery in 1962, its use has spread across the world, but it remains largely an underground phenomenon.

Iboga sends you into a dream state, says Bilal. This British-born Caribbean man has been treating himself with iboga extracts for the past 13 years, together with his wife Catherine. Today they run a detox clinic in Valencia and are two of the few therapists in the world offering this treatment. The couple uses ibogaine and other psychoactive iboga extracts, not the root bark itself.

In the 1960s, ibogaine was made illegal in the United States, and several countries have since followed suit, including our neighbors Sweden and Denmark. Ibogaine is not on Norway’s drug list, nor is it on Bilal and Catherine’s list in Spain. In some countries, such as New Zealand, ibogaine is available for medical use.

Several studies suggest that ibogaine can have a good effect, as long as you don’t mind travel headaches. However, a lack of research support and little interest among healthcare professionals indicate that the root bark will remain an underground phenomenon for the time being.

The general level of information is probably quite low, says Helge Waal, professor emeritus at Oslo University Hospital. He believes that we should demand more and better documentation if ibogaine is to be used. On the other hand, suppliers and users have sworn by the effectiveness of the root bark since its rediscovery in the 1960s, not to mention centuries of traditional use in Africa.

Out of curiosity I wanted to see the effect of the plant material with my own eyes. I contacted suppliers Bilal and Catherine, who invited me to visit their home and detox centre, Harambe, outside Valencia. It would be a trip I won’t soon forget…

You could say that my journey to Harambe began several years ago. When I studied anthropology at the University of Trondheim, I became interested in how people treat themselves by evoking non-ordinary mental states. Human history is full of examples of the use of bodily practices, such as yoga, meditation and repetitive movements, and certain psychoactive substances. Having experienced such a strange condition in my second year, I struggled to explain the experience to my friends, family and myself. I ended up writing a bachelor’s thesis on people’s use of metaphors to describe experiences that cannot be conveyed literally.

After my master’s studies, I began working as a social consultant at a treatment center for opiate addicts. There I saw the suffering of opiate addicts up close and wanted to learn more about the claims surrounding iboga.

I learned that European colonialization in Gabon in the 19th century led to a great loss of traditional native norms and practices. Particularly vulnerable were the Bantu tribe. The Bantu headed into the forest, where they came into contact with pygmies who shared a secret: Iboga. A mix of Christianity, Bantu animism, and the ceremonial use of iboga formed the basis of a new cultural practice: Bwiti. Through soul journeys to the realm of the dead, the living and the deceased were reunited. The Bwiti found their roots through the bark of the root. In the West, some have tried to recreate Bwiti, but as Bilal told me when I later arrived at his detox center:

– This is not the same as iboga in Africa. You can’t bring that here.

There I was, five years after planting the seed of my interest, on my way to see the use of ibogaine. In a place where Africa meets Europe, geographically and culturally. I was on my way to a place where you rely on substances to fight addiction to them, where you see light and colors in complete darkness, where you stay awake at night and sleep during the day, and where even atheists have spiritual experiences. A place you travel to in order to come home, literally and metaphorically.

20 hours after leaving the cold autumn of Oslo, my bones are thawing as I plant my feet on Spanish soil. I am linking up with my Chilean friend Felipe, who lives in Valencia. As a recently graduated psychologist with an interest in ibogaine, he is the obvious co-pilot on this journey.

Unlike the mushroom, which is abundant in the grasses of Norway, the South American psychedelic cactus peyote grows wild in Chile, Felipe’s homeland. Classic psychedelics have recently regained the interest of curious researchers and users. Some studies suggest that the confrontational effects of psychedelics may have a positive effect on a number of disorders. Including depression, anxiety, PTSD and substance addiction.

The word “psychedelics” comes from the Greek “psyche” meaning psyche or soul, and “deloun” meaning “to make something visible.” The word psychedelic means “to make the mind visible.” Claims that iboga causes self-reflection mean that many consider the root bark to be a psychedelic. But, as psychologist and researcher Pål-Ørjan Johansen and neuroscientist Teri Krebs tell us, ibogaine has different effects, mechanisms of action and a risk profile than classic psychedelics.

– Ibogaine has a completely different level of risk, as it can lower the heart rate and cause an irregular heart rhythm. Without medical treatment, this can cause death.

On our quest for the famous root bark, Felipe and I take the subway to the terminal, where Catherine picks us up. Cath, as she is called, speaks enthusiastically of the practice she and her husband Bilal have been practicing for more than ten years. Summers are busy, with weekly guests, and I understand why a cool breeze regulates the sun.

The price of the physical and mental trip varies. What dosage is needed, the time it takes, and personal finances are some variables. The couple prefers to talk to visitors before agreeing on a price.

I learn that I am not the first Norwegian to visit them, just the first without substance addiction. Of the thousands of substance-dependent Norwegians, some have left with Harambe’s ibogaine, looking for a new beginning. Cath says that Norwegians seem to be the most challenging users.

– Norwegians often take high doses of opiates and synthetic opiates like methadone. They’re like the Vikings of opiates!

Opiates and ibogaine are a deadly combination. Cath tells us that methadone can be particularly dangerous, as it stays in the body longer than heroin and can be dangerous to quit suddenly. For that reason, visitors recommend going back to heroin or other fast-acting opiates a month before detox.

The movie Trainspotting taught us that withdrawal is the worst part of quitting heroin. Of course that’s not true, but it can be brutal. Opiate addicts in the Norwegian LAR system are given methadone, precisely to satisfy the body’s physiological need for heroin. This is called substitution medication. Methadone is an opiate, just like heroin. One significant difference is that it takes much longer for the body to burn off methadone. It gives methadone users the advantage of having time to function between doses.

Chief physician Ola Jøsendal of Haukeland University Hospital in Bergen explains that ibogaine is the opposite of substitution treatment.

– When patients addicted to opioids are allowed to use ibogaine, the craving for opioids has been described to disappear. Medication-assisted rehabilitation (LAR) is the opposite: the patient is given opioids so that withdrawal does not occur.

After a half-hour walk through an orange grove, we reach the frontier of reality. The detox center is an idyllic house overlooking the dry citrus forest. The house’s amenities include a sunny rooftop terrace, a shaded porch, hammocks, and a latrine with a mattress for visitors who prefer this terminal for their journey, rather than the bedroom inside.

Bilal greets us at the entrance. His deep voice and Caribbean accent satisfy the stereotypes of a clandestine rehabilitation center. But he quickly defies them. We step out onto the covered porch, which at this moment looks like a nursery. Circling around the table, Bilal and Cath’s son flee. Like an aberration of nature, the nine-month-old baby is already able to gallop. Equally playful is their seven-year-old daughter, who seems to have mastered the art of always having fun. Every now and then a small, nervous creature appears seeking caresses – a dog, I think.

Across the table sit Ali, 35, his wife Anna and their daughter. The little boy is the main reason Ali is here to break his severe opioid addiction. He has been on heroin, methadone and subutex for a total of more than ten years. Now he is done for good, he says with a smile. He has just completed a week of detox with ibogaine.

Ali looks like any healthy young man. However, the treatment has not been a piece of cake for Ali. The first thing Bilal and Cath did was sign him up for a local marathon – a detox before the detox. Even crazier is that he actually finished the race.

Ali describes the subsequent marathon as the “journey” of his life. He is modest in his words, but says he was “sent out of his body, into space and eventually back to the beginning.” It is impossible to explain, he says himself.

– It was challenging, but beautiful. Now I feel like new.

The journey can last from two days to a short week, Bilal claims, in any case for a “complete reset.” In the process, it is not uncommon for users to experience their own death and rebirth, he adds. Then you are probably lucky.

The metaphors remind me of the Bwiti, who describe iboga as a journey back to the underworld. In the wake of colonialisation, iboga became a way of reconnecting with the past, through physical ceremonies and metaphysical journeys to deceased relatives. It makes sense that spiritual metaphors are partly replaced by mechanical metaphors, where the body is a machine that can be reset. But no matter what you call it, it’s probably about inner visions. Marianne Kaspersen, a specialist in clinical psychology, and biochemist Halvard Hårklau have studied and published a specialist article on iboga. They say that, as they see it, it’s not about “hallucinations” with iboga.

– Hallucinations are when you see something outside of yourself, which is not real. Rather, we use “visions”, as we speak of a kind of inner journey or dream state.

The two researchers point out that not everyone experiences such a transformative effect. Apparently, Ali can confirm this, as this is his second attempt with ibogaine. Last time he fell back into old habits. The reason, he says, is that he was not as motivated as he is now. Ibogaine is not a miracle cure, Bilal replies. Cath nods and adds that the real challenge begins when they have to return home.

By email I got in touch with Helge Waal, who has been studying substance addiction all his life. He writes that although there are interesting individual cases of ibogaine treatment, there is little documentation of their long-term course.

– One limitation is that ibogaine is most often used as an agent in the treatment of withdrawal. However, withdrawal treatment is not our biggest problem. The problem is that many relapse without maintenance treatment.

Is ibogaine only for motivated people? Bilal counters this thinking. He claims that many are motivated to change with the help of ibogaine precisely because the substance provokes self-reflection. Marianne Kaspersen and Halvard Hårklau say that the psychological insight that can be gained can be long-lasting under the right circumstances.

– Certain mental states, such as that induced by ibogaine, can enable people to find new meaning in life. Therapy comes from within. But during and after such an experience, it is important to have therapeutic support in order to integrate the experience and have a lasting effect. Iboga is not a miracle cure, but an addiction-breaker.

At the same time, they point out that there must be strict medical control and specially trained therapists with special skills to deal with strongly altered states of consciousness.

I want to know more, as the paradoxes pile up. Can a substance really erase the desire for other substances? And can a temporary condition bring about lasting change? Besides, I have yet to see anyone under the influence of ibogaine. I say yes when the couple invites me back. Then they get a visit again, this time from a Brit with a long-standing heroin addiction.

Felipe and I meet Jimmy, a 36-year-old Englishman, as he sunbathes outside the national detox centre. He tells us about his ten-year love of heroin.

– When you smoke heroin, like me, or snort and inject it, something draws you in and gives you a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure that life no longer gives you.

Jimmy apologizes for the romantic words about heroin, but again he has to admit his love-hate relationship with the fast-acting opiate.

– It becomes part of everyday life. A life partner. Heroin becomes the first priority and everything else comes after. And I mean EVERYTHING.

And he adds firmly: – That must change now.

Jimmy and his fiancée are expecting a child. Not long ago, he heard that ibogaine can give people a new outlook on life, as well as eliminate withdrawal symptoms. So he decided to give it a try.

It’s been over a day since his last dose of heroin. Jimmy looks tired and cold, despite the Mediterranean climate the rest of us enjoy, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. He’s shivering. Eyes and nose are running. He yawns continuously. Eventually he gets cramps in his legs. Fever, you might think, but not so. Jimmy is abstinent. He seems to be getting worse. I’m impressed with his ability to remain pleasant and engaged.

– I know this won’t be a miracle cure. It’s just up to me.

Bilal pulls aside the pearl curtain and sits with us on the terrace. He warns Jimmy, who is about to receive his first dose of ibogaine.

– You often see things you don’t like or don’t want to see. You only get what you need. The experience can be terrifying, but try not to defend yourself.

It’s been half an hour since Jimmy received the test dose that’s meant to reveal any allergic reaction. Bilal looks sternly at his visiting patient before asking how Jimmy is feeling. Jimmy simply nods and stands up. Without exchanging a word, they seem to agree that it is time for Jimmy to go to bed.

After ten minutes in his own room, in complete darkness, Bilal visits Jimmy. I can hear them talking, before Bilal quickly comes out to find me. He wants me to see what has happened. Before he closes the door on his way in, the lamp in the living room manages to shed a little light on Jimmy. He is lying comfortably in bed, his hand behind his head. He smiles. The cramps are gone, he says.

Bilal tells Jimmy that even if the withdrawal symptoms go away, he might feel restless.

– Then you just have to rest, with your arms and legs stretched out.

Iboga is sometimes described as a strict father. At the moment, Bilal seems to be the personification of the metaphor. Before he leaves the room, he asks if Jimmy can see anything. I barely have time to think about how illogical that question is, as the room is completely dark, before Jimmy answers.

– Yes, I see some colors and light.

– It’s okay, Bilal replies.

– This has only just begun!

In the living room, Cath sits at the computer. She points to the screen and asks me, “Have you seen this?” I notice the VG logo and immediately understand what it is. Avisa recently published an article about a Norwegian woman who died after receiving ibogaine treatment. The article has spread across the Internet. It has caused controversy around the use of ibogaine. I have an unpleasant feeling, as Jimmy is about to receive a full dose in the next room.

Stories of ibogaine deaths have been around for centuries. Among the Bwiti, there are traveling stories about people who did not return from the “other side,” but remained among the dead. Anthropologists who have studied the Bwiti have not documented actual deaths. In the West, between 10 and 20 deaths related to ibogaine use have been reported.

Dr. Uwe Maas is one of the few researchers who have studied ibogaine deaths. I will get in touch with him. He writes that you are particularly susceptible to injury or death if you mix ibogaine with certain other substances, such as opiates, or if you have had heart problems before. Some believe that ibogaine alone can cause death, he continues, but such claims are controversial. He seems to agree with Dr. Ola Jøsendal, who believes more research is needed to say anything for sure about the dangers of ibogaine.

Harambe requires that a doctor check the heart and liver function of visitors before receiving ibogaine. They have a heart monitor and defibrillator available, they add. The treatment is not yet for everyone, Bilal notes.

– Many addicts live chaotic lives. Not everyone listens or reads the protocol carefully. Therefore, we follow a strict order. If someone does not fit the profile, we must reject their request for treatment.

Brain researcher Teri Krebs is generally skeptical about using ibogaine outside of medical supervision. She believes that one should not assume that a foreign ibogaine center or a “shaman” can offer this. She writes to me in an email that if patients want ibogaine treatment, they should do so at a certified clinic that can offer proper medical follow-up: there must be continuous cardiac monitoring during treatment and for at least three days afterwards.

Jimmy managed well, even though his comfortable existence gradually fell apart when Bilal tried to hit the reset button with a full dose.

– Iboga kicked my butt.

Jimmy compares the experience to the movie Matrix, where the main character Neo is offered a red pill and a blue one. When he takes the red one, reality changes dramatically, before being brought back to reality. The physical senses were the first to change.

– Sound was suppressed but amplified, and the visual effects were like an optical illusion.

The audible and visible effects grew louder and louder, he says, before “disappearing with angels and demons.” Suddenly Jimmy found himself in a dark, gloomy world, “full of war.”

– Literally World War II. The visions were so vivid, extreme and cold. I jumped from stage to stage and passed by starving Jews in concentration camps. I had to watch them being killed like dogs.

The dark existence was occasionally illuminated by Bilal and Cath, who brought warm light, cold water and freshly cut orange juice.

– I swear, oranges kept me alive.

What used to be Jimmy’s comfortable bunk is now filled with the putrefaction of his own urine, feces and vomit. Bathroom visits eventually become manageable when he is finally able to walk on his own.

Jimmy’s experience does not seem positive. But he himself claims that it was. He says he is not sure whether the challenging impressions were a reflection of his personality or whether they were an expression of the body’s handling of physical and psychological withdrawal. Regardless, he continues, the experience was a fair price for avoiding the withdrawals that would otherwise have occurred to him.

– I am not at all proud of my past with drugs, but I am proud of having had the guts to throw myself into the world of ibogaine to discover it.

Because that is precisely what Jimmy has done, he himself claims: discovered by something. He describes a feeling of having been “reset to factory settings” and that the experience gave him a clarity he had not experienced before.

– At least not during my 22 years of drug use.

But now is when the challenge begins for Jimmy: when he returns home, to the place that benevolently serves heroin. No one knows what the future holds for the psychonauts I met in Harambe. In an attempt to travel back in time, I come into contact with Marius. Marius was previously addicted to heroin, but that was before iboga.

Photographer Dimitri and I meet Marius at a local café in Oslo. He seems like a normal 40-year-old man. At times, life has been anything but ordinary. It’s been more than 20 years since Marius first tried heroin, he tells us. He first experimented with alcohol and cannabis. The dealers had it all, so one thing led to another. This was the time before social exclusion because of heroin, Marius explains.

– Heroin was just another drug that people were curious about.

The experimentation ended and his search for excitement eventually took a new form. Marius joined the army. Within two years he was part of the special forces. Heroin became an increasingly distant memory, but the past would haunt him.

Before his military service, Marius was on a trip with some friends. In the car there were more than 50 grams of heroin. It was meant to be transported, not used. The friends were later arrested for this, while Marius was in the army. The police believed that Marius had been involved and he was found guilty of complicity.

– I knew they had brought something, but not exactly what or how much. There was no personal benefit for me there.

Anyway, the result was 12 months in prison. And even worse: the end of his potential military career.

– I did well there, so it was depressing to go back home. In the end I ended up back in the old environment.

Marius took and stopped heroin for 15 years, until he and his wife moved to Iceland. Since heroin was virtually non-existent there, he was able to stay away. However, he still felt dependent, he tells us. So it was no surprise that he started taking heroin again when they moved to Norway. Marius realized where this was going and decided to try iboga.

It’s been three years since he ate the root bark as a heroin addict. Since then he hasn’t touched heroin again, he tells us.

– Better yet, I haven’t craved it either. What I remember best is when I woke up after the treatment and didn’t want heroin anymore. It was the relief of my life.

In contrast to Jimmy’s dark experience with ibogaine, Marius was “full of happiness”, of bliss.

– I felt like an embryo, before it finally started to grow. It sounds weird, but it felt so real. At one point I was floating in space, looking at the globe from the outside. And you don’t just see this, you feel like you’re there.

The root bark made Marius feel like a child again, he says. He faced fears that he had as a child, but had completely forgotten.

– Iboga brightens things up, even if not everything makes sense. Afterwards it’s like you’re back to the beginning. You smell and taste as if it were the first time and you stop worrying about unimportant things.

After deprogramming, as he calls it, he returned home to Norway. Marius smiles when he tells us that his wife could hardly recognize him.

– I even walked differently. The glow of the first week was one of absolute happiness. Almost too much. But: I enjoyed everyday life again.

Iboga detox is something in itself, Marius continues, as the depression that comes with a normal detox is avoided. However, the most important thing is the long-term effects, he says.

– I haven’t wanted opiates even once since iboga. Can you believe it?

Marius has sympathy for those who seek out underground detox clinics. He hopes that ibogaine will become a common medicine in the future. He wants those who want to try iboga to be able to do so with a professional healthcare team around them. Many need support after the treatment itself, he adds. There is little support available today.

Psychoactive substances are often seen as a way to escape from reality. Some argue that psychedelics are the opposite. Over the phone, psychologist Marianne Kaspersen and biochemist Halvard Hårklau explain that psychedelics can confront a person with themselves, as part of an intense and potentially long-lasting transformation. I can sympathize with opiate addicts and others who want to, but should, for example, a healthy, functioning person who is predisposed to schizophrenia undertake such a journey?

Perhaps we will know more later, as researchers are again on the case. All research in the area ended abruptly 50 years ago, partly due to naive hippies and paranoid lawmakers. Today, the young hippies of the 1960s have returned in the form of middle-aged doctors with conventional attitudes. The famous psychedelics quote from the 1960s: “Turn on, tune in, drop out” has been replaced by a call to “Turn on, tune in, study.”

Still, iboga is an outsider compared to classic psychedelics. When I was writing my thesis on descriptions of the indescribable, I noticed that psychedelics are often depicted using feminine metaphors, such as “mother” or “goddess.” Iboga, on the other hand, is described as a strict father. It might tell you to stop doing silly things and maybe even discipline you. However, if you seek it out under the wrong circumstances, it can be deadly. Ironically, that last point makes iboga sound more like an alcoholic father than anything else, and that sparks controversy, as it should.

But what do those of us who haven’t tried iboga really know? Perhaps less than we think. So I’ll give Jimmy the last word:

– Ibogaine has the power to turn a grown man into a vulnerable child. It’s then up to that person to embrace the visions and the madness, or retreat into a corner and scream like a child.