No Water, No Thoroughfare

‘Behind XXXXX hotel’ I told the Okada man as I climbed on his motorbike, a laptop bag and another well stuffed carrier bag in hand.

We had moved a considerable distance before the realization dawned on the Okada man.

‘Front, front?’ he asked.

He would have communicated better in Hausa, his native language but I neither speak nor understand it, so we were left to grapple with a language similar to English.

‘Yes’ I replied, a bit irritated at the question. I thought I had made myself clear the first time.

‘We no go pass. Den don block road. Student’ he said, gesturing with his hands to make his point clearer.

Then I saw it for myself. The part of the Keffi-Akwanga road we now approached was a sea of disengaged Okada riders who had parked their motor bikes so as to watch protesting students. On both sides of the road, vehicles of different types and sizes, ranging from saloon cars to buses, and trucks were parked. Their occupants stood by and looked on. There was no thoroughfare. The students had ensured that. They blocked the road with drums, burning tires and themselves.

I could also see men of the Nigerian Military and Men of the Civil Defence Corps.

The Okada man parked and I alighted, curious, afraid and undecided. My destination was still quite a distance. This was not the plan when I left Abuja (where I had spent the weekend) that Monday morning. The plan was to drop my little luggage at my house located behind XXXXX hotel and then dash off to my place of work at the Nasarawa State University. But the students changed the plan. They chose the day to protest.

Protest over what? Water.

Water supply had been completely non-existent for weeks prior to that Monday. The student community had resorted to fetching from wells but those had equally gone dry. When students could not look ‘fresh’ to lecture halls any longer due to days without proper baths and laundering, it became a problem. Perhaps they told the University management about their problems, perhaps they did not, I cannot tell. What I can tell is that it got to the climax on Monday the 25th of February 2013, and the students of Nasarawa State University, Keffi, embarked on what was supposed to be a peaceful protest. I later heard on Channels Television that three students lost their lives.

Having disembarked from the Motor cycle, I asked directions about alternative routes I could take to my house, stressing to my listeners that it was behind XXXXX hotel.  They (Some Okada riders who had turned onlookers) unanimously agreed that there was a street ahead, off the road that I could take.

‘After the filling station, the next road, enter, go, straight, ask, dey wol show you’

I thanked them and took off, on foot.  I was trembling but the sight of other people walking about calmly gave me a sort of confidence. I walked past the Security officers, past the filling station, turned into the side street, walked on, asked directions and went on as directed, thinking in my mind that there were many ways to kill a rat. If the students thought they could debar me, they had better had a rethink. Then I heard the sounds. Yes, gun shots!  Then people running into the side street, towards their houses. They had come out to watch; now they were running back in. Where was I to run to? XXXXX hotel was not in view; talk of the house behind it!

More shots, more running and screaming, I began to panic. Then my legs moved in the direction the others were running to. Yes, in the direction of their houses. I ran into one of such houses and only got out about thirty minutes later.

Did you know bullets cannot penetrate mud houses? I will find out, but that was what one of the occupants of the mud house that I ran into said. At that time it was good news to my ears.

Who were those shooting? You might ask. That is still a mystery to me. I did not see them; I only heard the gunshots and scrambled to the safety of a mud house.  The very next day, on the radio, I heard that the Military and the Nigerian Police force denied killing anybody. Eyewitnesses argued but the forces still denied.
Much later in the day, when the incident had evolved into group arguments over the facts like how many people were killed (Some said seven, others said five, others three, a neighbor of mine maintained ten, even though she was huddled up in her room when it all happened); and into a decision by the University management that the school be shut down till further notice, I re-parked my carrier bag and took off to the Capital city.

Lessons to Learn:

1.       Water? Really? Shame. There is no need to talk much on this issue. Water is a basic need and its abundant supply in a University community should be ensured.

2.       A riot management arm of the Nigerian police force should be in charge of civil protests. The men of the Nigerian Military need not be disturbed unnecessarily. Tear gas and rubber bullets should be used on such occasions to prevent loss of life via stray bullets.