INIKPI

Ayisha continues

Maiduguri, 2006

Alhaji Sanni Musdaper was another governor who knew that his people were not happy with his performance as governor of Bornu State due to high rate of corruption, ineptitude and outright disregard for the Rule of Law in the dispensing of justice, law and order in the state. He also knew he would lose the forthcoming elections only a year away except he did something drastic. He made up his mind he would go the extra mile to ensure his victory since a free and fair election would be disastrous to him. Secret opinion polls conducted by his Chief of Staff and media men had revealed that much. The Nigerian constitution allowed one only two tenures and he was determined to complete his at any cost.

When he appointed Alhaji Sanni Zuru also known as Zorro as his Chief of Staff in 2003 disregarding the warning of those who knew him more intimately, it was for times like this. Zorro knew the good, the bad and the ugly in the state and entire region and could contact them at short notice for any job in very strict confidence.

He was, therefore, not surprised when his private phone number known to only three persons - his first wife, loveliest concubine and the Chief of Staff rang and Zorro told him Abdul Shekau - the Boko Haram leader, had been contacted and he had accepted to do the job. He heaved a sigh of relief and stopped lighting one cigarette after the other out of tension as he had been doing for days now. Many attribute his lanky frame to this habit inspite of the money he had made.

Zorro, naturally, was the middleman between Governor Musdaper and Shekau. He doubled the amount demanded by the Boko Haram leader for his service. Zorro knew the governor had secret mansions in Dubai and other countries of the world and was not willing to allow such an opportunity to own his, pass him by. He had stayed long enough in politics to know sheer desperation will make Musdaper pay any amount he demanded.

Shekau's brief was simple. He was to eliminate the popular candidate everyone knew would win the election in 2007.

The money was released in cash well arranged in dollar denomination in several Ghana-must-go bags late one night. The story of Alhaji Shehu Ankali had quickly made the rounds so nobody was willing to owe Shekau for one day. Zorro loaded them inside two Jeeps and left the premises of Government House.

As soon as they got to the junction near the major highway, he ordered the driver of the second Jeep - his most trusted aide, to drive straight to his compound and await further instructions. The police escort seated beside him in the Jeep, was admonished by Zorro to be vigilant all through the trip. His automatic rifle was brand new and he held it close to his chest, his index finger on the trigger.

The other Jeep headed in the direction of Sambisa Forest. Zorro chose to do the driving while his escort, also clutching an automatic rifle, sat beside him in the front seat.

Shekau was waiting personally when the Jeep arrived the designated spot at about 1 a.m. Zorro gave the agreed signal by flashing his headlight thrice. Two minutes later, Shekau, wielding his trade mark A.K 47 rifle, had taken possession of the Ghana-must-go bags containing millions of dollars. His men were stationed in strategic parts of the area and had seen the Jeep long before it arrived. In fact, two vehicles with their headlights off, had been trailing them for fifteen minutes before one of them put a call through to another number to announce the Jeep was alone, as instructed by Shekau. Disobedience would have meant instant death to the men.

Not a word escaped Shekau’s lips. He simply took the bags and disappeared into the forest along with his boys.

******

Alhaji Modu Khalifa knew he would win the forthcoming elections only months away. His party - the National Advanced People’s Party, NAPP, had decided no one should challenge him at the primaries based on his pedigree. He did not need to bribe anyone to get his or her loyalty. He was a Harvard trained business man, had held several political appointments in the past including serving as the Secretary to the State Government in the previous administration that was ousted by a military coup and, in-spite of his enormous wealth, he was considered a mutum kirki by all who came in contact with him. He was well behaved, generous almost to a fault and was not covetous of other people’s wives or daughters. He feared Allah and prayed five times a day. He never missed a day of fasting during the Ramaddan season and was selfless when dealing with others.

As was his custom, Khalifa worshipped at the Maiduguri Central Mosque every Friday afternoon after which he doled out cash to the several al majiri who thronged around him showering him with encomiums and prayers. They drummed and sang while accompanying him to his Jeep guarded by several security men with several escort vehicles behind them.

The mosque was shaped like the Dutse Central Mosque except that it was larger and easily dwarfed its Dutse counterpart in splendour.

The suicide bomber sent to snuff life out of Khalifa, found it easy mixing with the al majiri. He was dressed in a flowing gown popularly referred to as babariga making it easy for the bomb to be concealed around his waist securely held in place by a belt. He even swayed briefly to the drum beat of the al majiri before getting closer to the politician. As soon as he was close enough, he suddenly clutched him in an embrace and instantly detonated the bomb.

Twenty other persons including the bomber and the popular politician lost their lives in the ensuing explosion. Over fifty others were hospitalized for one injury or the other.

At the other side, Seidu Hassan - the suicide bomber, was received by the dwarfs.

Kano, 1972

Ayisha's son - Suleman, was handed over to Malam Zakzaky - a sixty year old Islamic cleric - when he was seven years old by his grand-father - Yakubu.

Malam Zakzaky’s school is noted for producing great Islamic scholars - radicals in their practice of the Muslim faith. Yakubu felt his grandson would be in good hands. The resource to train the young Suleman was not just available. The ten cows and ten pounds Alhaji Idris gave had long been consumed and all attempts to get more from him had failed. Alhaji Idris had almost asked him to be pushed out of his compound the last time Yakubu went to demand his involvement in the upbringing of the young lad and common sense told him not to return there again.

Zakzaky had a large hall where the scholars also known as al majiri were kept. They begged during the day to earn a living. All their proceeds were later handed over to Zakzaky who, in turn, ensured they were given two miserable meals a day - one in the morning and another at night.

A few hours were dedicated to learning the Koran, usually by reciting it, on a daily basis.

It was raining heavily the day Yakubu and his grandson arrived to see Zakzaky. Their discussion was short and straight to the point.

Suleman could not understand why he would not be returning home with his grandfather. He cried and cried only keeping quiet when the Malam asked him to be whipped by one of his aides. Twelve hot strokes of the whip also known as koboko did the magic. Suleman kept mute all through that day and as the days went by, learnt to accept his fate. He went out with other children - some older and some younger than himself, to beg for alms. Their best days were usually on Fridays when, wearing the most presentable of their rags, without any shoes, they went to the central mosque to beg the several Alhajis and wealthy malams that came to pray for alms.

Suleman knew his mother would never consent to a thing as leaving him in a place like this and he had no explanation for it.

Indeed, Ayisha had wept profusely when her father returned that fateful day without her son but she knew it was the only option since they were too poor to fend for him.

“He would grow up to be as great as Sheikh Uthman Dan Fodio,” her grandfather predicted managing to smile. It was a pained smile in a lame effort to justify his action. He knew, but for poverty, he would not have sent his grandson to such a school. Western education was preferable but where was the money going to come from to pay for it? It was totally out of the reach of the common folks. He attended a Koranic school himself but he never went beyond reciting the Koran, praying five times a day and managing to live a pious life as best as he could but he had no skill outside cattle rearing to earn a better living. Since his own father left him no cows, he could only manage to cater for those of others and this only afforded him the ability to keep body and soul together without any savings. None of his seven children went to school. The male among them followed him sometimes to feed the cattle of his master so as to learn the business. At a mere eleven years of age, Ayisha was the oldest of the lot. Family planning was alien to most folks in the North. Children were considered gifts from Allah and were to be accepted joyfully whenever they chose to come to the earth.

Ayisha never married despite her beauty. No man was willing to marry a woman with vesico vaginal fistula. It was all she could do to keep from stinking as urine trickled out of her on its own volition from time to time. She helped her mother by hawking fura da nono - the local delicacy, on a daily basis earning a few shillings for her family.

******

It took only a few days for Malam Zakzaky to realise Suleman would go places from his school. He hardly played with the other children preferring to keep to himself and observe events and was quick to memorize the Koranic verses he was taught daily. Whenever he went out to beg for alms with the other children, he usually returned with a larger sum of money than the others and never hid some away. This was a rare feat among al majiri scholars. Occasionally, when fight broke out among the lads, Suleman was always the last man standing. He fought with passion and dexterity.

As the years passed, he started to travel with Zakzaky whom he called Baba, to other states of the Northern Region and later to other African countries like Niger Republic, Chad, Mali, Libya, Somalia and Sudan. Later, countries like Yemen, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Syria were also visited.

Suleman soon learnt that Malam Zakzaky secretly kept an army of jihadists who were willing to die in the propagation of the Islamic faith among other reasons. They hated Western education with a passion. To them, it was an instrument for extending colonial rule and saw democracy as an appendage of it. These people took the name Boko Haram, which translates to “Western education is sin.”

The Boko Haram sect was secretly involved in determining who won elections at every level in the Northern Nigerian states usually preferring the candidate they felt would most likely replace Western education with its Islamic counterpart and institute the Sharia legal system in place of the existing one. In later years, however, these considerations changed as financial inducement became a major determinant of who the group supported to win elections.

The group occasionally clashed with the security agencies but Zakzaky was unrelenting in ensuring it grew to other states and later, to the neighbouring countries.

When Suleman became twenty five years old, Zakzaky gave him one of his daughters - Mariam, for a wife. The wedding ceremony was elaborate as Zakzaky spared no expenses in ensuring this. The high point of the event was when several able bodied men gathered with sticks to test Suleman’s masculinity by flogging him mercilessly on his bare back as the custom demanded. Suleman did not flinch. Mariam’s beauty was all the encouragement he needed. Not a few men had lost their bride's respect for showing pain or outrightly taking to their heels. Zakzaky nodded his head proudly at the feat.

Eternity

After what looked like years, the three suicide bombers - Danlami Goje, Isah Magaji and Samaila Dutse, were convinced their fate was sealed. They were not in Al Janna. If anything, this was the lake of fire.

Their experiences were harrowing. Each of the dwarfs seemed to have a unique form of torture for each of them.

The only time it looked like respite had come was when three of the dwarfs insisted each of the bombers made love to them.

After managing to force an erection, each of the men had plunged into the dwarfs.

The pain was unbearable. Ten scorpions stinging an individual on his manhood could not have produced such pain.

The three men suffered perpetual hunger and thirst. When one of them managed to demand for food, what they got were live worms in a bowl containing excreta. None ever demanded food again yet they would not die.

“Why…why…why… are we suffering like this? Have we not kept our own part of the bargain and killed infidels like our holy book demands?” Magaji demanded on one occasion with hot tears flowing from his eyes.

A hot slap on his face was the response he got from one of the dwarfs.

“We…we…we… sacrificed our lives in compliance with the demands of our holy book. We deserve better!” Dutse screamed.

He was whipped with koboko soaked in pepper till he almost collapsed.

Goje was too weak to speak. He wished he could die. Over time, which just stretched on and on, he had learnt not to ask questions. They had all lost sense of time. Day and night came and passed but each moment seemed to dwarf the previous in the volume of excruciating pain they suffered.

The dwarfs took turns to slap, beat, whip and scratch their faces.

This was hell. No other place could hold such torture

“You are all stupid!” screamed one of the dwarfs suddenly in the same cricket-like sound.

“That is what you all are - stupid! No one who kills or causes his neighbour pain deserves AlJanna.”

Another dwarf demanded, “How can you kill your neighbour and demand Al Janna?”

“We did it in support of Allah’s injunction,” Goje managed to say.

“Shut up!” a dwarf screamed. “Who are you to fight for Allah? If you must, is it by killing his children - the work of His hands? You will be here forever and ever! Forever and ever! Forever and ever!”

The echo from her screams reverberated all over the area.

Meanwhile, in another part of the place, Seidu Hassan - the suicide bomber who killed Alhaji Modu Khalifa was facing a similar fate.

Jos, 2006

The Church of the Living Star, Jos was full to capacity. It was no surprise. Today was December 25 - Christmas day. Over two thousand members were present.

Every activity - from praise and worship to testimony sharing and announcement time drew a lot of excitement from the congregation.

Soon it was time for the message of the day.

Pastor Solomon Bamidele, well dressed in a three-piece suit with a tie and shoes to match, mounted the pulpit and shouted “allelluia!”

It took over three minutes for the excitement generated to die and for him to be able to continue. Some members screamed, others jumped to their feet and ran around while some others just kept clapping.

That was when the first explosion was heard. At first, not a few thought it was part of the activities meant to spice up the day’s event. When it was accompanied by screams, however, the reality sank in.

Boko Haram had struck again!

Pandemonium set in. Bodies lay strewn all around the children’s section of the church and the fire from the blast was spreading.

As people rushed towards the gate, the second explosion from a bomb placed inside a car and parked near it went off.

At the end of the day, over forty corpses - some without heads, limbs etc, were taken to the mortuary while over one hundred worshippers were taken to the hospital for various degree of injuries.

Bad news spread fast and so radio and television stations, both locally and internationally, were soon broadcasting the event. It made the front page in almost all the major newspapers in the country the following day.

The actual number of casualties, however, varied from medium to medium. The spokesman of the security agencies - Major Saminu Musa, at a hastily convened press conference, was able to convince the journalists present that only five persons died. As soon as the usual brown envelopes were distributed, the figure suddenly looked accurate.

Only a few journalists who took time to visit the mortuary gave the actual figure.

Later that evening, a statement from the President’s spokesman explained that: “Mr. President is deeply saddened by this cowardly act by the evil Boko Haram sect,” and concluded with “we are on top of the situation.”

It was beginning to look like only a miracle would give the President Victor Abela a second tenure.

******

Shekau was in a video posted on You Tube the following day claiming responsibility for the attack. International television stations and their local counterparts interrupted scheduled programmes to broadcast the speech.

Shekau was dressed in camouflage Army uniform and was wielding an A.K 47 he used for gesticulating. An armoured tank and the Boko Haram flag with Islamic inscriptions written on its all black surface, was flying in the background. He warned of more attacks ahead.

“We the descendants of Sheikh Uthman Dan Fodio,” he said in the Hausa language, “will not relent until Islam is established all over Nigeria, Africa and the whole world. Western education is evil. It teaches nothing but immorality. Imagine children who should be married off to husbands wasting valuable time in the name of education learning nonsense!

“By Allah,” he swore, “our next attack will focus on schools!” he threatened with pure red eyes and laughed mirthlessly from time to time.

“Walahi talahi, this is just the beginning!”

He went on and on condemning Democracy, America, and the United Nations and so on concluding with “the Caliphate shall be established insha Allah”.