Living in fear

We ordered moi-moi (what our people love to call bean cakes for European reasons) and ate. It was the most absurd lunch I have ever had- who eats moi-moi in the afternoon? But we ate anyways and it turned out great in fact. Segun hinted to me while we had our lunch that he would stay back for a Masters degree in the University of Jos before coming down to Lagos.

This was scheduled immediately after his passing out parade. I was taken aback, I wondered why he considered the move but he reassured me that his reasons were for the best. Until October 1 2018 happened. That dream is over now because the last time we spoke, he has had a change of heart of staying back in Jos.

What happened two weeks ago

I was in Terminus that Wednesday. It was like people were there but their minds wasn’t. The streets were so clear of people, buses were driving around empty and everyone was just looking back, anticipating something worse. People looked me over severally with a look that I should be scared from confidently gracing the street in my shirt, trouser and shoes.

A child playing about ran into the street, and people became startled once again. Apparently, some people had been victims of unjust killings the Friday before. That same Friday (two weeks ago), I was just reclining in my room till Whatsapp brought me the gist. Later, everyone in my neighbourhood sat comfortably at home with eyes glued to the screen, one hand scrolling through Whatsapp (our newest means of serving panic messages), the other tightened to the remote control of a Star times TV set.

Oh, I jumped narration; I didn’t say what I observed on Monday. On Monday, I dashed out for a JayFM program and the roads were empty. You could stand for hours with no keke in sight. On my return journey, a truck laden with petrol fell at Plateau Hospitals. The few people around took the oil they could get and shared it in jerry cans.

Their saving grace from instant inferno was the bare streets. So they stole and got away with it. My keke rider panicked on the scene and dropped me across the trailer, choosing to go back. Immediately I tried to cross the road and approach Victoria Memorial Hospital to avoid any fire scare of magnitude proportion.

Security agencies coming from Farin Gada patrolled the scene. I was sure that the fallen trailer and its distributed contents were not what they were after. I tried to walk with confidence; peradventure there were the fake uniformed men that paraded UNIJOS.

Reliving the sordid details

When the testimonies of safety rolled in Church last Sunday, I heard more sordid details of what went down in Terminus and people moving from their households because of the late General’s vehicle recovered from a pond. Till date, everyone’s mind is still on that mind boggling event. “Be careful when you go out,” they say. “Watch body movement, watch sign language.”

For the Corps members like us who are lucky to be posted to Jos for the first and only time in our lives, we don’t want to settle here again. The grim reality had gripped us; so many people on our group chats laid bare their reservations on the city of Jos over the long scary weekend. On the path of my adventurous self, calls keep rolling in, every day, from my loved ones worried sick about my safety and well-being.

The recent episode that continued in Bassa after it held sway in Jos is called living in fear. Somehow that episode translated into an unhealthy dramatic bicker between husband and wife, successfully sowing a seed of discord amongst my married neighbours. So contagious was the fight, everyone was affected.

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For me, it was sad because even though I am a sojourner here, the city is quite good. Hospitable is what you call the people of Jos. You can’t get lost or hungry here; you will meet people who will rise to your aid.

A curfew to the rescue

Unfortunately, peace is a relative phenomenon in Jos. We live daily shrouded in the fear of past events. The fresh scenario of 2001 is permanently embalmed in our minds. Nobody can walk about after 9pm. Even West of Mines is a dead zone from 11pm. Stalls naturally close by 6pm to resume 9am. Everyone just seems to accept the insecure grim reality and live, pretending yesterday never happened.

For our Government at highest level, nothing is done about it. Only the recent Rayfield attack was what made Governor Simon Bako Lalong order soldiers to stop and search any vehicle returning from Rayfield. The best he has done in calming the crisis is order a curfew. Yet the Vice Chancellor of UNIJOS has ordered his students to resume by force, having little empathy for the beloved student that lost his life.

How long must we continue to live in fear? We must ask. I believe the Governor of this state can do more to quelling the ethno-religious conflict that has constantly bedevilled this state. Plateau used to know peace, until almost two decades ago. How long do Christians and Muslims continue this bloodbath, even though the common enemy are the blood thirsty Herdsmen seeking territory? To what end? We must again ask. To what end? Peace is the only path to progress. How long shall we live in fear?

Written by Joseph Olaoluwa.

Joseph Olaoluwa is an award-winning poet Journalist, script writer, and Social Media expert. He has a strong passion for arts, especially poetry. He currently writes Features for the Nigerian Standard Newspaper in Jos. He also freelances for the Nation newspapers and is a Pulse Blogger as well. He tweets not too frequently @theminentmuyiwa.