Note: This article discusses sexual violence
All names have been changed to protect the identity of the individuals featured
Nora* had been interrailing with her friends when she was spiked on a night out. She remembers having a few drinks while getting ready and then two at the club: “that’s how I knew–it was only two drinks, I wasn’t drunk.” As the night went on she began feeling dizzy and like she needed to leave the club–the last thing she remembers is walking into her apartment. Everything else she knows about that night are accounts from friends. “They said it was like a switch… there was no life in my eyes.” Then she passed out for 17 hours. Nora’s breathing was shallow and her heart rate low; her friends were not sure if she was still alive. When she woke the next morning, she could not remember anything.
Nora suspects now that someone had put something in her drink, but at the time she had not been worried about spiking. According to official Irish government data, it would really seem as if spiking does not happen. The 2024 Garda Spiking Incidents Report indicates that there were only 52 spiking reports in 2023, a number that has decreased by 51% since 2022. These numbers are likely much lower than the true scale of spiking, as the majority of incidents go unreported or untreated by hospitals – and these numbers certainly do not capture the whole story.
Spiking occurs when drugs or alcohol are put into another person’s body without their knowledge, usually by adding a substance to their drink or via needle injection. Existing data seems to suggest that FLINTA*s are more likely to get spiked (the 2023 UK Government Report indicates that 74% spiking victims were women). Nevertheless, Dola Twomey from Safe Gigs Ireland (SGI) stresses that spiking can happen anywhere–festivals, weddings, corner pubs, and that “Everyone is in danger of being spiked.” Recently, she adds, “All over Europe, a new wave of spiking started, but it’s not accurate to call it a wave, because it did not decline. It came, and it stayed.”
SGI is a project started four years ago through the Sexual Violence Center Cork, fighting all kinds of harassment and aggression because “everybody deserves a safe night out.” They have recently launched an online Spiking Hub in response to the gaps in government data, and anyone is welcome to anonymously submit their experiences via a short form. So far, Twomey tells UT, what is coming out of the database “is every bit as bleak as we feared.” Alongside documenting spiking in Ireland, SGI is working to establish preventative measures for gigs and venues and to assist victims of spiking in medical and legal contexts.
In Ireland, spiking is treated as poisoning under the Non-Fatal Offenses Against the Person Act, but no stand-alone criminal category for spiking exists. The gap in government data may have to do with the gap in legislation. As of now, the true scale of spiking is unclear, as are the actual methods and substances being used. It seems that without a criminal category, the official response is to downplay the severity of spiking or even blame the victims.
The official narrative around spiking, voiced by government bodies, medical institutions and Gardaí, is that potential victims must protect themselves by watching their drinks and watching their friends. All three of the women who spoke to The University Times followed the advice so often given to FLINTA*s: “I would obviously never take a drink off of someone… Someone put it in mine,” Nora said.
This advice given to potential victims can be misleading or victim blaming, and there are industries that profit from the fear of spiking by selling products marketed towards FLINTA* safety (for instance drink covers). Twomey says that her work has led her to understand that spiking is not preventable from the potential victim’s side. SGI is working to flip the existing narrative, giving advice to potential perpetrators: “Don’t spike.” Still, perpetrators spike frequently.
The three anonymous interviewees who spoke to The University Times, Nora, Miriam and Aoife, were all spiked in different places and under different circumstances, but describe the experience similarly. They remember going into a club, walking up to a stage, or arriving at home. Then–nothing. Miriam, who was spiked at Trinity Ball, explains: “my last memories were completely clear. I was not super drunk, and suddenly hours are completely gone.” During this time, Miriam lost control of her body; she kept falling and was unable to walk. Videos show Miriam telling her friends: “I’m not that drunk, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” When Miriam began gurgling and producing small amounts of vomit, they alerted the paramedics. But they only “kept asking what I had taken even when my friends insisted I hadn’t taken any drugs.” They watched her breathing and called a cab for Miriam and her girlfriend once she was able to walk. The next morning, nearly 12 hours since Miriam had had a drink, the room was still spinning. It felt like “a comedown”–not a hangover.
Sometimes, spiking is a precursor to other crimes. Aoife was spiked at Coppers last December; she was helping a friend into a cab and went back into the club to find her friends. “The next thing I remember is becoming conscious again in an Uber with a man next to me. He was sexually assaulting me and I was incredibly confused.” She was able to tell the driver to stop and forced the man out of the car. Once they arrived at her home, he charged her 35€: “I was being charged for a journey in which I had been assaulted.” In the days that followed, Aoife was unable to receive medical attention, and was afraid that if she did, she would not be taken seriously. But she did find a bruise with a mark on her leg. She told The University Times: “I am still thinking about reporting my experience to Coppers, I found out from the Gardaí that it would be incredibly difficult to report it.”
Twomey sees in these experiences a threefold problem in the reaction to spiking: failure in the medical response, the police, and the venues themselves. From the medical side, victims are met with “disbelief from the profession that spiking actually exists,” and are suspected of lying or being unwilling to admit that they have taken something. Often, no toxicology test will be administered. Gardaí, without legal framing and proper training, turn people seeking help away and fail to record the true number of spiking incidents.
All three of the women who spoke to The University Times considered reporting their experience but ultimately decided not to do so. Even when spiking is reported and investigated, few perpetrators face consequences. During the 2025 Dáil Éireann Debate, Minister Jim O’Callaghan admitted that “there were fewer than 10 prosecutions initiated, relating to fewer than 5 of those incidents reported during the 2022 to 2024 period.” Venues themselves are in denial, and by failing to proactively protect their visitors and assist victims may be contributing to the problem.
One such venue is Trinity Ball. Miriam explained after her experience with spiking, Trinity did no more than put her in touch with a welfare officer. “No one checked in or updated me on the report, I never heard anything.” She felt abandoned by the university, and that they could have done more to protect her and other FLINTA*s from spiking through preventative measures: “I thought they might take an issue like this more seriously… I do not think Trinity does enough.”
When asked about the Student Union perspective on spiking occurring on campus, Welfare Officer Deirdre Leahy told The University Times that she and Ents Officer Orla Norton have publicised information on spiking in the lead up to Trinity Ball regarding the reporting of incidents and who to go to for support. The Student’s Union is also introducing “anti-spiking lids”, a first for the Ball, which are available for collection at House 6 until 5.30 pm on April 10th. In terms of needle spiking, Leahy explained that the HSE provided information also applies and that bags will be checked upon entry. She tells The University Times that “It is always important to me to emphasise that the onus should not be on the individuals to guard their drinks, which is why this year we wanted to highlight the serious disciplinary consequences for spiking.” While the focus on punishing perpetrators is important from a structural and social justice perspective, it fails to protect potential victims unless there is also a clear welfare infrastructure for them in place. This infrastructure does not seem to be entirely clear for Trinity Ball: “This event is run by MCD, and everything from a security standpoint is done by them. We can raise awareness and disseminate information but unfortunately a lot of the rest is out of our hands.”
Twomey believes Miriam’s experience to be “a mirror of student experience all around the country.” Universities have a duty of care for their students, and the resources to put protective systems in place. Here she stresses the importance of student agency, for instance in the form of purchasing power. Student unions can make demands from their universities and venues, and insist on adding a layer of personnel solely dedicated to welfare, monitoring the ground and responding to incidents immediately. Students, so Twomey, “are in a position to lead the way for the rest of the country.”
While Nora feels able to distance herself from her experience as it happened abroad, Miriam and Aoife say that they feel like their relationship to nightlife, as well as to themselves, has changed. Miriam explains that it has taken her a while to feel comfortable going out again: “If I’m with people I don’t know well I sometimes don’t drink because I don’t know if they would care for me in a situation like that or just leave me.” Aoife shares: “when I am on nights out I feel like my night is spent guarding my drinks and my friends and that I can’t fully enjoy a night out, I can’t go back to Coppers again and I genuinely do feel like it has changed who I am as a person.” Everyone deserves a safe night out–and this also means helping survivors feel safe again. Aoife puts it like this: “I hope people can understand how debilitating it can be once you’ve been spiked, you don’t want to go out because you feel like it could happen again, but you don’t want to not go out because it feels like they are somehow winning, and what really does matter is having the right friends to support you through it.”
Spiking in Ireland is a larger issue than official numbers suggest. If you experience spiking, please inform the Spiking Hub.
—- Updated April 10th 2026 at 1.26pm —
This article was updated to include a comment from Trinity College Dublin.
