In Kajuru people died!
How many people died in Kajuru? When were they killed? Where is the pictorial evidence that such an atrocity took place? Why did the governor wait till the eve of the postponed elections before raising alarm? The questions trending on social media!
Cry if you have a conscience but while you’re sobbing, note that if even a video was provided, those asking these questions would say it was doctored. But let’s leave that for another day. Those casting doubts on the story allegedly called friends who confirmed from behind their phone screens while relaxed on their beds that nothing like that happened. Nasir Ahmad el-Rufai was at his mischievous best. He wants to burn down the state to help Mahmoud Yakubu’s INEC postpone the elections? Just remember, no ground is more fertile than the warped brains of a politically deluded Nigerian.
Politics has reduced us to our worst. Lives mean nothing to us except they are coloured in our clan or religion. We have made up our minds that some people are not worth nothing. We were raised on a mesh of two people died and four Fulani or any other nationality than ours. Our conscience is so numb that we would need the exhumation of dead bodies and the census bureau’s body counts to determine whether or not people have died. Bayo Onanuga just accused Ahmed Salkida of treason for tweeting about Boko Haram attacks. They want truth buried until after elections!
Reasons like this are why Canada should be careful how many of us it admits. Some of us are worse than ISIS returnees. Last year April, a ‘monumental’ tragedy befell the Canadian nation when a busload of hockey players died in an auto crash. The humans of Canada still mourn. Flags were flown at halfmast from the Thunder Bay to the North Bay. The driver has just been sentenced. Not even the relatives of the victims wish that he’d rot in hell. Canadians accepted his plea, they know what ‘accident’ means. They reached out into their own humanity. In that accident - it was people who died! People have no colour. People have no race. People have no creed - they are people it is called humanity.
A few weeks ago; a double-decker bus rammed into a station, killing at least three passengers and injuring about a dozen in Ottawa. You could hear the reports on the radio; feel the agonizing empathy of the reporters and news anchors, and the palpable air of sadness enveloping the nation’s capital. While the scene was cordoned off for accident investigators, people responded with flowers at the origin of that bus. The City of Ottawa opened a condolence register at City Hall. Nobody said ‘only’ three people died.
One woman showed up the next day with a dozen or more sympathizers at the bus’ terminal- they gave water, they gave hugs, they thanked the drivers still serving their community, they gave flowers - they wanted to tell Ottawans that the grief is mutual. Again, they touched on our humanity. All residents were not afflicted, but we were all affected. Professional counselors wanted to make sure that we were okay, that we did not lose hope in humanity or our interest in riding buses. #Gofundme campaigns began for the survivors - relatives knew that the nation is behind them in their moment of grief. Stress is relieved when grief is shared.
In Kajuru people died! People who’ll never be seen alive again! The numbers mean something to me but even one is already a tragedy too many. Their ethno-religious persuasion counts for nothing to me. I fell for the husbands who’ll never hug their wives again; for children who’ll never see their parents again; for friends who’ll never chat or interact with their friends again. That’s humanity. The humans of Kajuru did not bargain with sudden death, and it’s not Allah’s will. These people were failed by their nation, and our lack of empathy stripped them of their humanity.
If we couldn’t grieve, we could’ve kept our partisan mouths shut. We could have commiserated with the governor, even if he did not ‘communicate’ as we wanted in his moment of grief. Yes, he had made body bag comments; he had tweeted that anyone who killed a Fulani was living on borrowed time. Yes his politics is not always right. But this was not the time to flog him. This was the time to pity him. In Kajuru, humans died! Whether they died on Monday, Tuesday or Friday is immaterial to me - they died, needlessly. I don’t need the heart of a saint to be touched by the avoidable death of another human.
I cried when I saw the coffins in Benue. I die each time I read of what the people in Borno, Yobe, Katsina, Zamfara, Owerri, Lagos or anywhere else are subjected to because our state has failed. I feel diminished when I read your social media posts, politicizing someone else’s grief. I wonder if I’ve been away too long. I wonder if there are two humanities - one that is not openly religious but massively empathic and another that is ostentatiously religious but atrophied of the milk of human kindness. Wayyo, in Kajuru - people died and I am in grief!