Morning in Baga

It is 9 am, Lagos, and the dust has settled from automobiles whose tyres grazed the road tar from the early seconds of the breaking day. It is 9am. Workers have settled into their seats and morning rote slowly beginning. The city moves on with an indifference to change and fear. Indifference. After all, 187 people, or so, mowed down to the brute rhythms of the state’s guns are forever going to be faceless. No national media is going to splash their names and faces on its front cover. There shall be no state funerals or flags at half mast. There shall be no presidential declaration to find the culprits and bring them to book, if only in rote satisfaction of some archaic government protocol. Government magic. Unknown soldier. Vagabonds in power. Collateral damage. Yesterday’s men in green jackboots and auto rifles.

It is 9pm, in Baga, sometime on Friday. Dozens of families woke up to rattles of the government guns pursuing faceless culprits in a shadow war. Forget Boston. Who cares if a city can find one terror suspect in 24 hours without a single collateral damage to innocent lives and properties. This is the giant of Africa! Forget a public information network to alert the public about who the enemy is. Heck, forget the idiotic law that mandates military action only in times of war. Boko Haram lives within you, the guns rattled, they die, as do you. A gun does not tell apart a somnolent villager and a terror suspect hiding within the leaves of a banana plant. Ratatatata, the rhythms of flesh and blood splattered to the beats of falling limbs and tree stems.

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The national news is silent. Reuben is waking up in the bosom of a dame in the Abuja Hilton. Mr. Jonathan had just composed his condolence message to the families of the three victims of the Boston blasts. The state governor in Borno plans his next foreign trip. Lagos wakes, early as it does, with the soft rhythms of dust and rubber tyres. Temperature: 87 degrees Fahrenheit. The dour morning promises rain, and welcome indifference. Across from us, thousands of miles away, pain, and the next planned carnage of the state. Miranda rights and collateral damage just went on an ill-fated date in the wilderness.

 

“Little Blood Flowed” – Presidency.

The dead of Baga sprawl with the leaves on loaves of lead.

Removed from us in mute indifference, we the living dead.

On the trigger that night were notes of “Them? Oh, who cares?

There was where evil hid. Let the living make repairs.”

______

NEWS:

President Jonathan Quiet more than 48 hours After Massacre in Borno” (Premium Times)

Pity Boston, Ignore Nigeria: The Limits of Compassion” (The Daily Beast)

“Massacre in Nigeria Spurs Outcry Over Military Tactics” (The New York Times)

Caught: Osama: Dead!

The first thoughts in my mind is that the family of victims of 9/11 may finally get some deserved closure. And then the thought of what may have happened if evil didn’t exist, if there was no need to blow up the US embassies in Nairobi, or the WTC in 1993, or the twin towers in 2001. I still remember where I was then – in the dormitories of the University campus in Ibadan – as friends scurried to bring me to the television. It was evening in Ibadan and CNN was breaking the news, along with footage, of planes hitting the world trade centre.

What would have happened if a rich Saudi son had used his strength, industry, leadership and organizational style to a more productive use, say, trade. Or entertainment. Or even just a normal spiritual or educational leadership. How different would the world have been? There is nothing extraordinary about living in caves. Men have done it for centuries. The idea intrigues, even. A set of men with deeply held beliefs living out of the box of their privileged upbringing in search of spiritual, or mainly normadic, experience. I know I would have loved to go on one of such expedition.

How did violence against innocent people on a large scale even become such a worthwhile venture? And how did the man supposedly smart enough to have evaded capture all this while not have been smart enough to see the big picture: that the world is bigger than the little thoughts in the mind of a handful of hateful nomads riding in the desert. As slowly as the wheel of justice grinds, it always catches up in the end, somehow. His death is not a victory for America as it is a victory for humanity, and justice for all. It is perhaps also a call to introspection, although the cynic in me still nags on the futility of such news as this – as significant as it is – to eradicate evil on the surface of the earth. I’m glad he got what he had coming to him, Osama. Can’t we all now just get along?

Meanderings

The task of making comparisons between states and towns along the roads to the North of Nigeria would soon inevitably fall on anyone undertaking a task of going around the country – Africa’s largest by population. Are there much differences in population, order, electricity, internet access, and a general sense of well-being? Are we that much different after all no matter where we choose to live, or do we differ only because we speak different languages or pray to a different invisible man than the other person? The answers are not that difficult if only we apply ourselves to discovering it.

The young man in whose house I slept for two days in Kaduna finished from the University in Zaria in 2005 and served in the same year in Edo State. I had never met or spoken with him until that night when I showed up at his door with another friend and asked to stay overnight for the period of my footloose tour of his state. The young man at the motor park who negotiated by bike ride with the hausa-speaking rider within my first five minutes of arriving in the state was of the same breed. Oblivious of the fact that we had indeed been in the same car through the ride from Abuja to Kaduna and never haven spoken even once, he gladly got me towards the right direction, all for a handshake, “thank you” and a goodbye smile. Human goodness, I say.

In countless meanderings around places around the world, I have encountered the same kind of optimism and open-heartedness even from random strangers, and it has never ceased to amaze, and to delight. If only we could all live together as one, all the days of the year. While eating lunch yesterday and getting prepared to head out, there was the news flash on television that nine (or ten, depending on who you ask) people have again been killed in a fresh case of violence in the city of Jos. Over what? Religion?

Of all the things that should cause violence, shouldn’t religion in a sane world be the least relevant, especially since none of us is really sure? But what do we have? Moslems pray to Allah to help them destroy their enemies, and sometimes even lend him a hand. Christians sometimes do the same, praying for God’s help to vanquish the unbelievers. To paraphrase George Carlin, one of these groups would be fucking disappointed. Could it be… everyone? Is love for neighbour so hard to conjur in a world where we have succeeded in dominating nature and pretty much everything else?

Forgive my rant, all I wanted to say was that I love what I see in most of everywhere I have been around the country. Kaduna reminds me of Ibadan, but not in every way. Ibadan is too rowdy, and so is Kaduna city, with rickety buses and loud bus conductors who speak only the local language. But as far as scerenity is concerned, Ibadan has much much less open land areas along the highways than Kaduna does, and politically, my city seems far less mature. End of rant.

Jos!

“I am Nigerian, not a terrorist. I do not kill people that are not from other parts of my country.” – from Politically Incorrect (January 1st 2010)

When I served the country Nigeria in the mandatory one-year National Youth Service in a little village close to the city of Jos in 2005, the state still had as its motto “The Home of Peace and Tourism” even though there was always a shadow of violence looming in the corner and in every conversation. In September 2001, four years before I arrived there, there was one of the bloodiest bouts of violence between the Hausa-Fulani “settlers” and “indigenes” of the state and when the smoke cleared, there were over a thousand people dead, home and businesses destroyed. In a few months, things always returned to normalcy but there was always the shadow of looming violence. Nobody knew when it would raise its ugly head or what its trigger would be. But it was always there.

Read Jos, a city torn apart a report by the Human Rights Watch in 2001

In May 2004, a few months before I got my deployment papers to travel over 800km from my base to Plateau State, there was another bout of killings in Yelwa, the southern part of the state in which over 700 people died. There is a report of it here. In all of these cases, the failure of government has been the biggest cause of that much carnage. In all cases, the violence has spread and caused irreparable havoc before the agents of state showed up. And in some cases, when they eventually showed up, they took sides and went beyond their call and did some extra-judicial killings of their own. Of all the ills of a badly run government, the biggest most disappointing crime is to be found guilty of taking sides and complicating the already messed up situation and not bringing to justice the perpetrators of previous crimes.

While I was in Riyom, a short distance from the state capital of Jos, I lived in relative shelter from the political realities of the town, but only to the extent of actual violence that eventually took place in some other parts of the state even while I was there. I was not sheltered from the conversations and the anger. For many who lived in my parts of the state, the problem of the state was not only fuelled by religion, but also by a political and economic undertone. Who were the indigenes and who were the settlers. To most who had an opinion, the Hausa-Fulani cattle herders had come from the North to take over the land from the Plateau indigenes of a different tribe and way of life. Plateau state is one of Nigeria’s most linguistically and ethnically pluralized state, yet Hausa is a language spoken by all in addition to local languages. In Riyom where I lived, the language was Berom. Yet, they never saw themselves as Hausa-Fulani and always seemed to be fighting against a perceived dominance of the language and culture of the “settlers”.

In Nigeria today, this issue is sadly one of the biggest threats to survival. Not just religion, but a politics of ethnic domination, mistrust and well, ignorance/arrogance. And because of that, a lush area of the nation that could as well have laid claim to being the best place to live in the country because of its climate, history and people is entangled in a burning fire with over three hundred people dead, mostly women and children in a reprisal attack. In an ideal federation, there should never be a limit on where one wants to live, as long as one can respect the rules of the land which are fair and just. The religious dimension to this crises is just as unfortunate as it is saddening. Yet, THERE IS NO GOD IN THAT VIOLENCE! If He is, then it is high time we removed him from all affairs of state because this is not one of his best public statements of eternal goodness. The case in Plateau state as well as many other volatile regions in the country – including many in the south as well -is the distrust that comes from ethnic affiliations. When it becomes tied to economic and political survival, hell is let loose – especially in the absence of a moderating influence of a trusted agent of state.

Today, I am enraged like everyone else wondering how we got here and wondering where we go from this cycle of violence. More than prayers for the family of victims, we need a more responsible and responsive government just as much as we need better education for all. And as deterrent, all culprits in the killings must be brought to book, and to justice. If international intervention is needed, let us have it. Those who kill fellow citizens do not deserve to live among us if they deserve to live at all. There is nothing that should stop Hausa-Fulani cattle herders from living and prospering in Jos or in any part of Plateau State, and neither should there be a threat to the practice of Christianity, Islam or any religion by any indigene of the state. What we should fight against is the threat of domination or force. The sky is big enough for birds to fly, as the proverb says. For years religions have lived alongside each other without any threat of violence. What has changed? Yes, politicians and the elite have exploited the differences to their own advantages even at the expense of lives and property of innocent women and children. Well, enough is enough!

On March 16, there will be a rally of Nigerian youths to remind the government why it matters that things are done properly. I cannot attend, but will be there in spirit. For once, I wish I could suggest that the rally takes place in Jos Plateau rather than in Abuja, at least in solidarity with the forces of good. In my case, I do intend to go back to the state when I’m back in Nigeria. I still have friends there, many of whom I’m still in touch with. I will be going with a big camera and I intend to visit new places that I didn’t get to see in my first visit. It is not just a huge sense of loss and sadness that moves me so, it is also a sense of disappointment, and such a wasted chance of nationhood as exemplified by Jos, formerly “the home of peace and tourism.” What’s more, there are hundreds of Youths deployed to the state now on the mandatory National Youth Service whose life is being put on the line without adequate security. The last time there was a crisis of this proportion, at least one member of the Youth Corp was killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shame! Shame! Well, that too has to change!

My last bout of this much outrage was at the Nigerian terrorist Umar Farouk, and it produced some deprecating politically-incorrect writings in which I had joked darkly: “I am a Nigerian, not a terrorist. I don’t kill people who are not from my part of the country.” Well, here is exactly what I meant at that time. And this is why the world at large needs to respond and direct attention to Jos, Nigeria NOW before it gets even more out of hand and we produce another international terrorist. The culture of impunity must stop and the killers be brought to book.

Read more on the news story on the BBC.

PS: Please never stop praying. And if you can, please send money to the Red Cross which is still organizing relief efforts for survivors and the wounded. It is a sad day for humanity. One more thing – for Nigerians in the United States, please badger the Western Union on Facebook and on Twitter until they make it free to send money from the United States to Jos during this trying period. They need to know how grave it is. They did it for Haiti, they did it for Chile. Now is the time to demand same for Jos which is as well a terrible humanitarian crisis situation. You can make requests by writing on the wall of their Facebook page, and sending a tweetline to make said request. Western Union has been known to respond to humanitarian needs around the world.

(Photos from the website of the Human Rights Watch and the Anglican Diocese of Jos. Warning: gruesome images!)