In Christ’s name, former addict uses chess to turn ‘drug pawns’ into ‘knights’

On a humid Thursday in February 2024, Aramiz Adigizey made his way through the streets of Mai Adiko, a suburb in Jos, Plateau State, clutching a clunky chessboard under his arm.

He turned into an abandoned building encircled by an old, grey-coloured fence overgrown with bushes. Inside, a group of young men huddled together, eyes glazed, lips chapped, their hollow stares betraying years of substance use.

The men’s eyes narrowed in suspicion the moment they sighted Adigizey. He must be one of the preachers who constantly reminded them that they were ‘sinners’ doomed to burn in hell if they didn’t quit drugs. But Adigizey hadn’t come to preach. He came to teach chess, his quiet rebellion against substance abuse. 

As he laid the chessboard on the floor, a few men edged closer, curious. Others continued toking on their blunt. 

A former addict himself, Adigizey had his personal Christian convictions through chess. Now inspired by a renewed belief in his Christian faith, the 32-year-old is leading a movement to wean young men from drugs through chess. 

A troubling prevalence

With an estimated 14.3 million drug abusers, Nigeria confronts a severe crisis, and Plateau State, with 240,000 drug abusers, holds a significant share of the prevalence. Efforts by the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) often end with the seizure of drugs and arrests, but little attempt at recovery.

In the last awareness and sensitisation walk held in June to curb drug abuse, various stakeholders decried the rise in drug abuse in the state; however, there was little to no emphasis on recovery models for addicts. 

Sometimes, seized drugs are released back to dealers, and those arrested are released through corrupt means.

Still, access to professional help is limited, as rehab centres charge an average cost of ₦135,000 (roughly $88)—well beyond the reach of most young users.

Alongside peer pressure, trauma and mental distress are among common factors that push many young people to turn to substances for comfort or escape. 

The power of chess

Adigizey had his first encounter with drugs at age 15. He would go on to spend nearly eight years of his life hooked on crack cocaine, marijuana, and methamphetamine—a stimulant with heavy potential for addiction. 

Then in 2013, amid a conversation, a friend introduced him to chess. What started as a casual way to pass time quickly became a bumpy road to recovery.

“I realised that I could play chess for hours and not even think about getting high,” he recalls. “It became part of my healing.”

Although he had several relapses—“the darkest phase in his journey,” he recalled—in 2017, he completely overcame addiction. Soon, he started an informal nonprofit, the Athena Chess Foundation, named after his late daughter, Athena, whose memory would become his deepest grief and source of inspiration. 

In November 2023, Adigizey’s daughter, Athena, died, reportedly from an accidental overdose of sedatives.

And in the wake of his recovery from addiction, Adigizey began to reflect deeply on purpose and faith. He knew he didn’t need a title or a pulpit to make a difference.

“Not all of us are called to be preachers, but I believed I could still do something for God without being on a pulpit.”

Photograph: Courtesy of Aramiz Adigizey 

Raised in a conservative Christian home, Adigizey says his faith never left him, even during years of addiction. “I think my faith has always been in the centre of the world; even in the well of addiction, there was always that guilt within me. I knew it was the Holy Spirit,” he said, describing the persistent inner voice that reminded him of right and wrong. 

Today, his work is grounded in the teachings of Christ, which guide how he helps others. Through its flagship programme, the “Chess with Christ,” the foundation leverages chess as a simple and effective rehabilitation model to help users cut back on dope. 

Arriving at a jungle with a chessboard, Adigizey persuades the fiends to play with him as a way to teach them. Halfway through the game, he launches into his past experiences in a bid to get the youngsters to open up about their struggles. This vulnerable front, Adigizey notes, is important for cultivating trust. 

“The idea is not to fix them overnight. It’s to spend time with them. Chess creates that space.”

This approach has resulted in honest discussions that lead to self-recovery for many former addicts. The case of 29-year-old Yohanna* is a prime example.

Yohanna had left Nigeria in 2015 for studies in the neighbouring Republic of Benin, where he sank into a lifestyle of drugs and wild partying. 

“The first time I took weed was the hardest,” he says, describing the coughing fit that seized him. “It was a big mistake.” 

Unable to keep pace with studies, Yohanna returned to Nigeria two years later, haggard and penniless, like “the prodigal son,” he says.  

Back home in Jos, he hung out with other drug fiends in Mai Aidiko. It was at one of such gatherings that he met Adigizey.

Initially, Yohanna watched from the sidelines until Adigizey’s seventh visit. Over the next five months, he committed endless hours to chess, becoming absorbed and slowly numbing his urges.

“It was the only thing that held my attention. It became my new high,” Yohanna says.

Like Yohanna, Gowok*, 32, had dropped out of the University of Jos following a tortuous battle with addiction that began when he was 17. On one of Adigizey’s earliest visits to the den, Gowok attempted to steal Adigizey’s iPad in a desperate bid to buy crack cocaine—an incident that brought the two together, leading to their first conversation about addiction.

It wasn’t long before Gowok became fixated on chess, playing the game day after day. 

“I sat down one day and realised that it had been a long time since I had taken a puff,” Gowok, now a volunteer with the foundation, says. “I was now spending most of my time playing chess.” 

Yohanna and Gowok are two of more than 40 former drug users that have overcome their addictions through the foundation’s Chess with Christ programme. Several more are still in recovery, Adigizey adds.

“You’d be surprised that most of the time we leave 2-3 guys playing chess, and when we go back the following week, we see about 10 people immersed in the game,” Adigizey said

Much of this growing success is because “almost everybody involved in this process has been there and has battled with some sort of addiction or the other,” he continues. “So it’s like their arms are open; they welcome you as one of theirs, and you’re not a stranger to them.”

Outside of chess, the foundation hosts weekly counselling sessions for those in recovery as part of its broader aim of transforming “these pawns into knights.”

The effectiveness of a game-based approach to curing addiction is globally confirmed and accepted, evidenced in the outcome of a 2022 study on alcohol-use disorder. The research indicates that chess-based training offers a powerful supplement to traditional therapy, enhancing memory, focus, and self-control in people battling addiction.

Jungle visits… not enough

Nevertheless, the Athena Chess Foundation lacks the formal structures of traditional rehabilitation. Left to themselves, Adigizey acknowledges, some recovering from drug use quickly relapse and are never seen again. 

That is why “we’re working on getting a space of our own to host them more frequently within the week,” he says. “This will enable us to spend more time together and reduce some of the environmental triggers around them.”

The expansion of his work is also limited by resource scarcity. “A single board costs an average of ₦20,000, and most times, I have to raise this money myself,” Adigizey bemoans. Occasionally, he receives donations from the Gift of Chess, a nonprofit based in New York City.

Notwithstanding the challenges, he said he remains unfazed as he takes a step further, organising weekly chess outreaches in schools to groom young pupils.

Photograph: Courtesy of Aramiz Adigizey 

 “This way, we are able to engage them from childhood and not leave them to chance.”

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the sources.

This report was completed with the support of the Centre for Religion and Civic Culture at the University of Southern California, through its global project on engaged spirituality.