Category: Arts & Life

Six years after his near death experience in the hands of suspected Fulani herdsmen, Daniel Chuwang, in this highly revealing interview with Shola O’neil, (South-south Regional Editor) opened up on a very traumatic experience and how the Arm of Hope Foundation, has turned his life around.

DEATH AT DUSK

Even by the recent standard of reprehensible killings in the country, the gruesome murder of children, pregnant women, aged and able-bodied men and women on the night of March 6, 2010 as witnessed in Dogo-Nahawa, was, to say the least, barbaric. Dogo-Nahawa is a sleepy hitherto unknown rural community located in Plateau State. A midnight raid left 354 persons dead and scores others injured. Among the survivors was Daniel Chuwang, a teenager, whose father and two brothers were hacked to death on the mad night.

Daniel was barely 15 when the killings that shook the nation and reverberated throughout the world occurred.

“I was sleeping with my brothers when I heard the first gunshot. Nobody knew what it was because it was not unusual to hear gun shot in the night. But that one was different, because it was not just one single shot as we used to hear.”

When the gunfire died down hours later, over 350 bodies sprawled all over the length and breadth of the northern Nigerian town. Aside corpses, ashes were the only inkling to what used to be house of thousands of denizens of the community. The dead, Daniel recalled, included men, women; some of whom were pregnant, children, babies; some barely weeks old. Countless others were lucky to survive; howbeit with varying degrees of machete and gunshot wounds.

As his mind travelled six years back into that dark, horrific night; the pain was apparent in Daniel’s voice, although the angst of the nightmare-filled days after had receded. His situation is also starkly different. In place of the blood-drenched calico he came away with on the night, he wore a simple but neat pair of trousers and shirt in the comfortable home of his new father and best friend, Apostle Eugene Ogu in a suburb of Port Harcourt, Rivers State. His voice was mellow, in spite of the anguish; the anger and venom of vengeance were missing. He was calm and even smiled intermittently as he told our reporter, not just his encounter with ‘God’, but his transformation from a hopeless teenager to one filled with the ‘glory of Christ’ and hope of a very bright future.

“I was born and raised in Dogo-Nahawa, Plateau State. Everything was peaceful until the fateful night of March 6, 2010, when the crisis began. My father was among those killed and I was badly affected.

“The following morning people were crying and I didn’t know what was happening because I was covered in blood. I was also rushed to the hospital that Sunday.”

His fight for life was punctuated, he said, by images of butchered men and women, the face of a dying woman he couldn’t help and his last glimpse into the panic-stricken face of his brother and relatives. “It was driving me crazy any time I see everything afresh.”

“I was sleeping, myself and my brothers, when we heard the first gunshot. At first, I thought it was my father because he was in one of the armed forces. But then I heard it the second time and I heard noises from the neighbours. I was asking what was happening, but nobody was answering; everybody was running. It was even more difficult for us because my father didn’t sleep at home that night.

“I and my entire family began looking for where to hide and when we got to a particular compound, we didn’t know that those people were there and they all ran and left me. I saw a man with a long knife walking towards me. He tried to cut me, although he missed my throat, he cut my shoulder. That was when I began running without a destination in mind.

“After running for a while, I saw a lady who had been shot on the hand and laid on the ground, bleeding. I couldn’t leave her, so I stopped to help her. As I was doing that, I saw two men heading towards us. I thought they would help me get the woman to safety, but I was mistaken because I later realised that they were the killers.

“When they got to us, they said something, but I didn’t hear them. Before I knew it, one of them struck me on the mouth and I started bleeding. The last thing I could remember was that they began cutting me.”

Daniel apparently passed out at that moment, as he said he later woke up in a local hospital. He was covered in blood and his head, arm, shoulder and back hurt very badly. He had mysteriously survived, but he would later hear that his father, three brothers, countless uncles, aunts and other family members had been butchered to death on that mad Saturday night.

He was in the hospital for weeks, but it was obvious he needed better medical attention, which was not available in Dogo-Nahawa. “The doctor said I needed to do scans and other checks on the wounds in my head, shoulder, arm and back. Even if we had the hospital, I did not have the money and my mother was the only family I had left. So there was pretty much no hope for me.” He recalled.

After winning the fight against death, the young boy began to relieve the incidents of the painful night. His questions about the whereabouts of his father and older sibling brought no cheers, because “everybody I knew was either dead or maimed.” His father, along with three brothers and scores of other relatives, as well as friends and neighbours, were all dead and had been buried in one of the numerous burrowed pits that were their graves.

“There was nobody to console anybody; everybody was mourning at least one or more loved ones. I was filled with rage and hatred for those who killed senselessly and took away the lives and hopes of my people. I raged at the government and all the people that stood by, watched and did nothing to save us.

“I hated life because of the pains it brought me and my family and the fact that prospect was bleak: No father, no brothers and no family. I wanted badly to take revenge for all the loss we suffered, for the blood that were shed that night and all the bodies that were later dumped in pit and covered with earth.  I was that angry and I felt that the only thing that could make me feel better was vengeance,” Daniel recalled with a rueful smile as he lounged on a black leather sofa in the expansive home of his benefactor.

An arm of hope for the hopeless

When the news of the bestial killings filtered out of the Plateau community, Apostle Ogu, a former Chairman of the Rivers State Chapter of the Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria (PFN) and President of Arm of Hope Foundation (then Arm of Hope World Outreach) mobilised members of the foundation for what was then a deadly mission to the heart of turbulence in the north.

Along with a few volunteers, including members of his congregation, he took relief materials and began a mission to the north. “It was a life-changing experience for me. I had never seen so much death, so much pains and agony. I witnessed the burial of all those killed and took records and names of all the 354 victims of the heartless killings,” Apostle Ogu told our reporter.

In Dogo-Nahawa, the Abundant Life Evangelic Mission founder went round the villages, collecting records of those killed,  they were mostly middle-aged men, women and the aged. He also took record of widows and indigent members of the community who were affected by the killing. That was when he met Daniel Chuwang.

Of his meeting with the ALEM founder, Daniel said, “Some days later, after leaving the hospital; they asked me to come back. That was when I saw Pastor and he was giving money, food and medicine to some persons: women, widows and others. I wanted to approach him but I remember those people who had disappointed me while I was in the hospital. They came with promises that I should not worry, that they would take care of me and would be training me in school, but after that I was always back to my sad world because they never came back.

“So, when I saw Pastor (Ogu), I thought he was the same. The next day, he came back to assist the needy. I did not approach him even when others were going to him. He saw me and came to me. He asked my name and I told him; he asked of my father and I told him that my father was killed. He did not stop there; he began asking me how I came about my injuries and I told him everything.”

Thereafter, the NGO members searched out relatives of the fatherless teenager and found his grandfather and mother. Daniel said he had no inkling of what Pastor was doing because, “He just told me that he was going to see my grandfather; he never mentioned anything to me.

“The same evening, he visited my grandfather and asked for permission that I be allowed to go with him to Port Harcourt. I thought it was a joke, but he seemed very serious and asked me to get ready for the journey. He also mentioned that it was his 50th birthday and he wanted me to celebrate it with him. He told all the widows the same thing and it felt unrealistic to me.”

As night fell, the AHF members got into their buses and drove out of Dogo-Nahawa, leaving the people with high hopes. But when morning came, the hope began to dissipate for Daniel and his kinsmen.

By midday, as the dust and sun intensified over the mourning town, their hopes further dissipated. For Daniel, it was ‘never hope so that you don’t get disappointed’. He said he reminded himself of his first meeting with the man he now calls ‘Daddy or Pastor’.

“I and over 50 widows that had prepared for their first trip out of the community waited that day, but we didn’t see any vehicle and we decided to forget about it. For me, I had expected it because of my past experience while I was in the hospital. The other people started talking and asking me to forget about it. But even though I tried to tell myself to forget it, I was still hopeful; a part of my hope refused to die.

“Then suddenly later in the evening, we saw three buses with police men. They asked for those going to Port Harcourt. Everybody was joyful. I was surprised to see almost all the widows in Dogo-Nahawa going to Port Harcourt. Most of us had not travelled out of our village before. Everybody trooped into the buses. It was late; so that evening, we slept in Jos and took off the next morning and that was how I came to Port Harcourt.”

The first priority for AHF team was to get Daniel to the hospital to get proper medical attention on his wound. He was taken to one of the best hospitals in the city for treatment and had three scans and several other tests.

The journey from Plateau to Rivers states for the teenager was filled with mixed feelings; he thought about what he had lost, what he was leaving behind and the life that was ahead of him. He kept on looking back as he left where he had called home all his life for a journey into the unknown in faraway Port Harcourt. Among the issues agitating his mind were: Where was he going to live? How was he going to fit into the new society without any loved one and what did the future hold for him?

“Before I met the man of God, I had never been opportune to attend school and I couldn’t even speak good English. Even when he first met me, I couldn’t speak English; I was just looking at him while he spoke. I could understand him but I couldn’t speak English,” he said.

For Daniel, the changes that have occurred in his life have been tremendous. “It marvels me that I am in this city,” he said with a glint in his eyes.

He looked very relaxed; he has conquered his fears and he owned the environment like he had lived there all his life. “I still find it difficult to believe that I’m in Port Harcourt, but I have come to realise that this is true and dreams can come true.

“This first sign that my life has changed was the kind of treatment I received in the hospital. I knew how much money Pastor was paying for my scan and everything and I couldn’t believe it; I couldn’t believe that I am important enough to be treated like that. There were no complaints about the cost, but what everybody was talking about was what was best for me. I marvelled.”

Six years on, with the help of Apostle Ogu and AHF, a very dedicated team of teachers, Daniel is preparing for next year’s WAEC examination. He is attending a good school in Port Harcourt and is doing very well.

“My life has truly changed,” he enthused.  “But what surprises me most is that I and Pastor eat from the same plate, and everybody is surprised. That is the kind of man he is. Perhaps his greatest influence in me is how close he has taken me to God. By my just watching how he lives his life, I have improved mine.

“When I was in Dogo-Nahawa, I was an illiterate; I didn’t know things I know now. I have been exposed to another life, and it made me to know what God wants to do with me, and it made me understand that my story will be heard in every part of the world. It has also given me hope to see the bright future ahead of me.”

The new found joy and hope for the future has also helped him deal with the worse tragedy of his life. He said the nightmares of the incident have receded. His anger and burning desire for vengeance have also given way to pity for the perpetrators of the carnage.

“When the incident happened to me, I thought that I would never be able to forgive those people who did this to me.” But in his new environment and after several discussions with his pastor, his feelings towards the marauders have changed.

“The pastor sat me down and preached to me and I felt the impact of his words. He then asked me if I would be able to forgive those people. Initially the answer was difficult for me; but now it is easy. I decided to forgive. These words are in my mind, ‘to err is human and to forgive is divine.’

“I know I am now a better person; I am privileged to live with a true man of God, who has taught me well and given me hope for a brighter future, not just on earth but also beyond. I am too blessed to feel anger or hate.

“When I came here, we started doing morning devotions. I would read the Bible and also pray. I started growing in faith as it has been said that ‘faith cometh by hearing’. I began reading and listening to the Word more. I even went to the new converts’ class and decided to be baptised.

“I went to class with my jotter and I was eager to answer questions and learn. My spiritual life is getting stronger as the days go on. He has taught me so many things and I want to repay him by being good and following in his footsteps.

“He taught me about forgiveness and I have already forgiven them (my father’s killers); even if I see them now and I am able to identify the killers of siblings and my parents or even those who attacked me, I will welcome them with open arms and pray to God to forgive them and change their hearts to know that what they did was wrong and to teach them to know where to begin from.”

Looking ahead, he said although his “future is very bright”, he had concerns about thousands, possibly millions of orphans and fatherless children like himself, who are faced with difficulties due to their misfortunes.

While conceding that government alone could not cater for the needs of Internally Displaced Persons and victims of sectarian and other violence across the country, he appealed to government, individuals and public organisations to support genuine NGOs like the Arm of Hope Foundation.

“My appeal to government and everybody who cares about the suffering of others is to render support in whatever way to Arm of Hope. As an NGO, they should be supported to give hope to the hopeless, so that he (Pastor) can continue his good works.

“If the government renders their support, Pastor would do more but if they don’t, he might become weary in his service to mankind. So I’m pleading to the government to help us and help people who are critically in need of help.”

In this interview with Dorcas Egede, the Director General of the Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilisation (CBAAC), Dr Ferdinand Anikwe, talks about the Centre’s preparation to host other African countries and Africans in the Diaspora sometime in February to mark the 40th anniversary of the All BlackFestival of Arts And Culture (FESTAC), among other things. 

Why has it taken this long for a memorial of FESTAC to hold?

One singular most important cultural event since the creation of man took place here inLagos, Nigeria in 1977. The then president Olusegun Obasanjo was futuristic. You can imagine the entire FESTAC town was erected just to accommodate our brothers in Africa and the Diaspora, so that they would be somewhere during the celebration. Beyond this, I want to say that this bothers first of all on political will, interest and the cost. After the 1977 celebration in Nigeria, Ethiopia was to host next, but the lion of Judah, Ethiopian Emperor, Haile Selassie, was killed. No other African country has been able to muster the courage to do this. The mere thought of it scares one. In fact, I’m daring the devil by venturing into hosting this event.

This time around, we are going to assemble the scholars of African descent and our brothers of blacks in the Diaspora. We are coming again to brainstorm on where we are today, not just culturally, but in the scheme of things in terms of global challenges, globalisation, climate change, and all sorts. The whole world appears to be coming to a stop;flood is taking over many places in Nigeria. What happened? There is no rain in Israel, and they use urine to fertilise their crops, and they are the largest food suppliers to the entire Europe. Then we have all kinds of rain almost all year round here, and we have not done anything with it, so God allowed flood to come and take over. What I am trying to say in essence is that as scholars, we’ll ask ourselves questions about our origin, existence and where we are going.

Let us develop what we have. If you grow from your culture, you will get every other thing. During one of my lectures in Ghana, I told them that on the Ghanaian soil, one of our great political fathers, Kwame Nkrumah, asked that we should first seek the political kingdom and every other thing will be added. We sought the political kingdom, got our independence and nothing else followed.Instead we have degradation, neglect, and impunity, in terms of management of national and natural resources. We are now seeing that if we had sought first the cultural kingdom, the white men would have been swallowed into our own culture. This is where we belong, and that is why it is important to bring together the blacks of African descent.

You know that someone who witnessed FESTAC 77 must be above the age of 50. So, it is not a thing anybody can joke about. FESTAC is great and we are getting ready for it.Another interesting aspect is that it’s going to be almost 90% private sector driven. Because the government says there is recession, so we are mobilising people from the private sector to come and participate. Therefore, we want all of you to be partners in this historic event.

In the light of the security challenges currently bedevilling the country, how does the centre hope to ensure the security of participants?

This is very important and it’s where the government must come in. We have written them that the issue of security should not be taken for granted, because if people are not secure, it will be a disaster. However, there is an assurance that there will be security. And the two venues are Lagos and Abuja. But because of the relics of FESTAC that are in our office the countries we’ve interacted with are eager to come to Lagos. However, the opening ceremony will be in Abuja while the main event will hold in Lagos.

How will this event help to boost tourism in the long run?

First of all, anybody that pays genuine attention to history will know that FESTAC is in Lagos. If you want to know anything about FESTAC, therefore, come to Lagos. Apart from that,Nigeria has many natural endowments, which promote tourism. So, when people converge here, there are tendencies for them to want to satisfy their curiosity. If they have heard about Rev. Fr. Mbaka for instance, you can fly them to the east to see him. For those who may have heard about Sango festival, you take them to Oyo. If they want to see the Obudu cattle ranch, we fly them to Calabar. There are many things they can see even in the North. There are many things we can show the world.

I have also said that God’s children have promoted tourism. The Bible and Jesus Christ in Israel; the Quaran and Mohammed in Saudi Arabia, then God Himself who created us and gave this authority to Jesus Christ and Mohammed was here in Nigeria. All we need to do is let the world know this.When we promoted this on the internet at the time I was the permanent secretary in the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, we had 5,500 scholars who said they must be taken to that cave. That’s why I’m saying these men of God should turn their camp grounds to beautiful pilgrimage centres. Nothing stops us from asking where David Oyedepo was born, for instance. He has already risen to stardom. What kind of primary school did he attend? What gave him the idea to set up this big city? We’ll do flyers and have people come around and hear the success story from the pastor himself. As far as I’m concerned, that is tourism.

Let’s talk about repatriation. What’s the Centre doing to repatriate artefacts that rightfully belong here?

There are two things; there are some of these issues directly handled by our Centre. There are some of them handled by National Commission for Museums and Monuments (NCMM). All we need to do is locate those artefacts and make sure they are returned. Let me tell you, this FESTAC logo is in London Museum, it is just the picture that we are using. I was in Portharcourt with one time president of FESTAC, Admiral, O. P Fingesi, and he was so excited. He told me that he was in London Museum and pleaded that they should release this FESTAC logo from Benin to him. And they told him it is fragile and all that. That is the one I will dive into. I will do my best to see that it is returned because it is very symbolic to FESTAC, and it is one of the best works of art ever seen in the history of man.

Therefore, we will do our best to ensure that all artefacts belonging to us are returned. You know colonialism has continued to reappear in various forms, which the academics call neo-colonialism. There is a course we read in the university called ‘contemporary imperialism,’ where imperialism has been replicated in various forms. We want our artefacts back and with proper structure and ideology, we’ll resume staying on our own. Granted, there should be interconnections with other people, but we must build our solid philosophy and political objectives.

You did say that this is the best time to host this event. How do you think this will help boost the economy, especially in this recession?

It will help in various ways, for instance, when people from other countries in Africa and around the world come, there will be all kinds of exchanges, economic and social. They will buy things from us and we will also buy from them. This will engender all kinds of vigorous activities in the economy. Another thing is that it will promote our relations outside these shores, because you will find out that when we say there is a recession, people out there will think we have all died, but necessary social interactions make them understand the real situation.

In fact, the only reason we should host the event now is because of the economic recession. There is going to be a capital inflow from other countries. You needed to see the enthusiasm expressed by other countries that participated during the last meeting we held in Abuja. Countries like Cameroon, Brazil, Ghana, Liberia, Uganda, and Guinea, five of them came, and we gave them certain things from FESTAC, one of which was the books from the colloquium. The Guinean ambassador came himself.

Apart from the colloquium, you know that creative economy is the centre of economic activities the world over. And we are so naturally endowed in Nigeria and Africa that the whole world will empty into this place. The white men have nearly everything they need. They now want to enjoy their money, and we have resources where they can come and do this. Can’t we just develop them, promote them and let the world know, provided we have security. It’s part of the creative economy. Look at these wonderful artists we have, D’Banj and the likes, they are very creative. We can let the world know them. What about Nollywood?

It is original, creative, and unique. And when people say that they do fetish things, I laugh at them. How can they be saying that? What about the Americans who kill? If America knows what to do to withdraw the guns from their citizens today, they will do it.

Let me tell you, there is nothing we don’t have in Nigeria. But lack of organisation makes us imitate others foolishly. The best brains are from Nigeria, yet we have not been able to build the synergy to get us to that economic height. And this is as a result of our inability to believe in ourselves. Part of what we are talking about is that we build a culture of believing that we can do it and from there we interact with those who have done it. But the economic revival must start from here.

A lot of people, Christians especially, believe that during the festival in 1977, a lot of demons were transported into Nigeria…

I can forgive their ignorance. In the first place, both Christians and Muslims should be guilty of any demon in this country, because most Nigerians are either Christians or Muslims. So, if you’re saying that FESTAC brought in demons, then Christians and Muslims are also guilty of that. Two, most of the people that participated in FESTAC prayed, so how can demons still come after all the prayers by Christians and Muslims? It means that both the Christians and Muslims are demonic themselves. Or is it the traditional rulers (Obas) that were also asked to pray at the event that brought the demons? They prayed in their local dialect which many people didn’t even understand and couldn’t tell in what name they prayed. Are they the ones that brought the demons? If the white men that brought Christianity did not accept the culture of the people they met, they would have failed. Today’s Pentecostalism in Nigeria employs all kinds of acculturation. People sing in different local dialects, and Jesus has been given several names. If the Christians didn’t accept this, those who brought Christianity would have as well gone with their religion. So, there is no demon.

Having won a grant to do a story on the demolished Artists’ Village in Lagos, the visit to Nigeria was going to be Maria Groot’s first, accompanied by her partner and photographer Frederik Buyckx. But the Belgians did have their fears, influenced more by what they had been reading and hearing, which she said turned out to be ‘largely misrepresented.’ They had a chat with Dorcas Egede.

Over visited a city or country for the first time? Then you should be familiar with the thrills and shocks that come with such adventure. Beginning from the time you conceive the idea, to the time you embark on it, the actual trip and your return trip; you sure would have a story to tell.

Freelance reporter, Maria Groot, 33, had a truck-load of concerns thrown at her when she first mooted the idea of visiting Nigeria, the famed giant of Africa.

“With all the insecurities bedevilling Nigeria, are you sure you really wanna do this?” Some asked, unable to understand the restlessness of a reporter.

Others counselled, “Why not visit Senegal or Ghana? These are relatively safer countries…”

At the embassy, authorities queried: “Have you ever been to Nigeria before? Do you have a host? Do you know him well enough? What if he’s a ritualist who just killed a woman last week? How about someone to take you around town? What if you are abducted?”  The questions were endless.

Groot, who hails from the Netherlands, but moved to Belgium 11 years ago said the people’s worries were tiresome; their concerns disconcerting. And she nearly got sucked-up in the fears and concerns, which worsened when securing a visa became an uphill task. Maria had secured a grant to do a report on the demolition of the Artists’ Village in Lagos, Nigeria and she had very limited time working out the travel arrangement to fit into the grant’s budget.

“I applied for a tourism visa two months before this trip. I had to go to the embassy four different times, and it’s not in my home-town; so I had to travel by train,” said Groot. Admitting that her repeated visit to the embassy was partly her fault, she said, “I’d actually thought I only had to fill out the online application forms because there had been many questions, including physical attributes for easy identification. But there were other things I ought to have done; like get an invitation letter from someone in Nigeria, which I didn’t take note of.”

Groot however wasn’t discouraged by the trepidations, although she admitted to feeling a little flustered when the visa process was ongoing. “For the first time, I wondered if the trip to Nigeria would turn out right.”

Having had a first-hand experience of Nigeria and her people, would she say the things she had heard and read about Nigeria were true? Groot’s honest answer was, “I think Nigeria has a rather bad reputation. She is largely misrepresented. Coming has made me know better. The most interesting part of my experience has been with the people. I have met really warm people… Nigerians are very interesting and intelligent people. They warm up to you very easily. The first reaction when you meet someone for the first time is that of uncertainty, then in the next five minutes we are already laughing and having discussions. They ask questions about Belgium and tell you many things about Europe. They are very informed about global matters. That struck me.”

However, there was something Groot found both unsettling and comforting. “There seemed to be many security men around. I have never seen so much security in my life. Every single building has like 10 people taking care of security. I honestly don’t know how that makes me feel. Safe and unsafe all at once. First, it sets off an alarm of danger; then again you feel people are there to protect you, should anything go wrong.”

Being a graduate of Arts, Groot who is a freelance reporter in Belgium, writes about everything from security issues to immigration. She albeit has a soft spot for matters relating to arts. So, apart from going to see things for herself at the demolished Artists’ Village, she and her partner, a freelance photo journalist, Frederik Buyckx, visited a number of arts arena in Lagos.

“We visited Mr Shilon, the arts collector. He had a whole lot of artworks in his collection. We spent about an hour going round, and we didn’t even see half of his collections. He allowed us take a few photos, but there were restrictions, I think depending on the artwork. We also visited Nike’s Art Gallery, the University of Lagos’ Arts Studio, Jelili Atiku, Terra Kulture, Bruce Onagbhakpaye, Freedom Park…. We received a lot of presents, bracelets, t-shirts, dolls, a whole lot of fanciful stuff.”

What is that one thing that will for a long time be etched in their memory? Buyckx, speaking for the first time, said, “I visited Makoko and it was very impressive. It wasn’t the most beautiful sight. And even though it’s an obviously impoverished area, it looked very idyllic. While I was there, a dead girl was found. It was a very intense moment. The villagers gathered together with their leaders. It was a moving sight to behold.”

Groot had a hard time putting a finger to that one thing. Too many happenings had left very strong impressions on her. Finally she exhaled: “Sounds of Lagos is a Friday evening event in a little theatre in the Artists’ Village. We were invited to watch them perform. It was a really wonderful experience. There was this mixture of amateur and professional stage artists, dancers and rappers; practising and performing. During the performances, there were electricity cuts and people just kept doing their thing without light and music. That, for me was remarkable. Even though there are lots of challenges, people just find a way of creating something out of nothing. We felt very welcome, had a very wonderful dinner and even red wine.”

They also had a fair share of the long waits in the city traffic. Buyckx said, “First of all, there is so much traffic jams, which we experienced right from day one and still experience. We have a private chauffer who carries us from one point to another. This gave me a kind of strange feeling because in our country, we move around freely. Being driven from gate to gate almost, we didn’t get the chance of connecting with the streets and people walking on them. Sometimes, I ask if we could stop somewhere, maybe the market. And the driver says, ‘No, no, no! The market is too dangerous. There may be area boys…’ We were always kept in our safe car and that felt very strange.”

The Belgians definitely enjoyed food the Nigerian way, Buyckx in particular. He especially loved suya (spicy grilled beef). “I had pepper soup. I tried swallow once (semo); but I preferred the rice. I asked for jollof rice, but it wasn’t available.” Said Buyckx. Groot who seemed the less enthusiastic, having found the meals “really spicy, like crying spicy.” She however enjoyed one particular meal prepared by their private cook. “Yesterday she prepared some kind of sauce from beans with which we ate fried plantain (dodo). We had a lot of vegetables too.”

While most communities rely on law enforcement agents or vigilance groups for their protection, Ode-Erinje community in Okitipupa Local Government Area of Ondo State relies on nature’s defence, a swarm of bees. TAIWO ADEBULU who recently visited the bereaved town which just lost its monarch, reports.

HE radiated a remarkable confidence as he carefully meandered through the neatly-tarred lonely road, traversing it with theatrical manoeuvring as though he was competing at the Olympics. Bordered on both sides by a long stretch of acres of palm trees, Akinloye had no need for accurate focus on this road, which he plied at least twenty times a day to make ends meet. Occasionally, he slowed down in a well-choreographed pause to exchange pleasantries with farmers returning home from nearby villages, who were congratulating him on his newly acquired motorcycle. Overtly flattered, he gave a wolfish grin and sped his way into the heart of the community.

Akinloye snickered proudly as he welcomed this reporter to the ancient town. The fifteen-minute journey could have been less frightening were the community plied by commercial vehicles. In the absence of this, the likes of Akinloye, a young secondary school leaver, have found a stable source of income, shuttling between his hometown and nearby Okitipupa township.

“I finished from that school,” the young man said pointing to a signboard at the entrance of the town with the inscription: Erinje Grammar School. “So, don’t think that I am unlearned because I rode quite roughly. I am just too familiar with this road on which I was born on a market day,” he declared as his brow furrowed with pride. His English, although partially fluent, was inflected by his Ikale dialect. The motorcycle snaked its way through the clouds of smoke drifting out from surrounding palm-oil mills that litter Ode-Erinje community in Okitipupa Local Government Area of Ondo State.

On entry, an unusual calmness enveloped the community, as some people were seen reclining and seemingly gazing into nothingness. Some stood staring gloomily while some others tread about with mournful gait; all in eerie silence, except for a few audible whispers and the sounds of motorcycles ferrying passengers in and out of the grieving community. The palace wore a mournful look, just as domestic animals roamed about in hostile silence. Even the blind could feel it. Erinje has lost its Crown. The widely acclaimed oldest and longest reigning monarch in Yoruba land has joined his ancestors.

The late Orungberuwa of Ode-Erinje, His Royal Highness, Oba Simeon Akinlalu II, born in January 16, 1914 ascended the throne in December 1949 and passed away on July 3, 2016; ending a 67-year rule. According to the first child of the deceased monarch, Prince Orimisan Akinlalu, Orungberuwa was one of the children of Oduduwa, who left Ile-Ife thousands of years ago. He left as a prince and settled awhile in the waterside area of Ogun State. Then, he and his people moved to Aluma in the riverrine area of Ilaje Local Government Area before crossing the Ofara River and settling finally in his present location in Okitipupa Local Government. This was contained in an official document like a sacred papal bull.

Above all, the late monarch was famed for his great powers, with which he protected his people. While he held sway, legend has it that no one committed a crime in Ode-Erinje and got away with it. In this regard, the demise of the great patriarch has dealt his people a devastating blow. For the people of Erinje, the king has joined his ancestors, but the ancestors still watch over them. They have found solace in their age-long defence mechanism. As the legend goes, no act of external aggression has ever invaded Ode-Erinje without the spiralling counter attack from killer-bees.

Next to the hornet, they say, is a sanctuary and whosoever dares to stir it must be prepared for a bout of painful stings. To incur the wrath of the bees in Ode-Erinje, all you have to do as a stranger, is to exhibit the slightest act of assault against the community. Besides, Ode-Erinje used to be an elephant hunters’ enclave until the activities of poachers forced the animals into extinction. Erinje means a land where elephants graze.

Meanwhile, bees are economic insects that are profitable when tamed to produce honey. Honey itself is one of the oldest sweeteners on earth with a myriad of benefits. Aside being consumed as a food supplement in Ode-Erinje, the honeybee is a weapon of warfare. No one in the community is involved in the business of beekeeping, yet the mysterious bees are always ready for combat. Where they normally emerge from, none of the natives could explain.

In ancient times, the people of Ode-Erinje fought so many wars with neighbouring villages, which they allegedly won with the help of the furious bees. They usually swoop on their enemies like American fighter jets, sting them to death (or until they took to their heels). In one noted incident in 1993, after the cancellation of the presidential election that was popularly believed to have been won by the late Chief Moshood Abiola, there was wide-scale unrest in the South-West. The members of the Oodua People’s Congress (OPC) were said to have gone on rampage in the Old Okitipupa Division in protest. Law enforcement agents reportedly pursued the fleeing OPC members from Okitipupa to Ode-Erinje. But at the entrance of the community, close to the Iye-Eri River, a swarm of bees was said to have surfaced from nowhere, bombarding them until they retreated. It is no wonder that in the Okitipupa metropolis, Ode-Erinje is known as the city of refuge, a haven for the persecuted.

According to Chief Stephen Arowojolu, the bees attack is not a myth. The one-time Director of Ondo State Asphalt Company (OSAC) said: “It is a fact known all over the state. In 2001, when the road from Okitipupa to Ode-Erinje was being constructed, the bees pounced on the contractors handling the road when the construction got to the entry of the community. The bees saw that as an invasion on Erinje, seeing the way the bulldozers were clearing the way noisily while approaching the community. Also, the contractors were strangers. They had no choice but to flee, leaving their machine and tools behind, until certain traditional rites were performed.”

Omosekeji Olomosakin, a tailor in the community, buttressed Chief Arowojolu’s claim. He retorted: “War doesn’t infiltrate Ode-Erinje. Never! The bees have been our saviours from time immemorial. We don’t have to call on them in times of distress. They will just appear from nowhere to defend us against any attack.” Omosekeji recounted how a popular politician in the community had visited his parents recently with a host of military escorts. The escorts moved to a beer joint near his shop to unwind. After gulping some bottles of beer, one of them who had become tipsy was said to have shot in the air. “Within a few minutes, the bees started appearing one after the other. When we sensed the looming danger, we told them to leave immediately if they valued their lives. They fled instantly. Still, the bees trooped out like bats out of hell and spiralled above the beer joint for three days.”

It was 7pm; the misty rays of streaming sunlight had begun to recede into the horizon while the gathering darkness subtly invaded the community. The beer joint opposite St. Joseph RCM Primary School that hosted the army of bees stood aloof from the thatched roof mud houses surrounding it. A handful of young men were busy plugging their mobile gadgets and chargeable lamps with one hand, while brandishing bottles of beer or glasses in the other.

The noise of the rickety generator overwhelmed the voice of this reporter, as he tried calling the bartender to place an order. The men sat in a disorderly circle grumbling about how things have changed for the worse in the agrarian community in the face of the current economic challenges. These days, they can only afford one or two bottles of beer, compared to the immediate past years. Worse still, the last time the community had power supply was close to three years ago, when their senatorial district was disconnected from the national grid. They were unmoved by this reporter’s assurance that better days were ahead, hissing in chorus as though they had rehearsed it.

The only police station in Ode-Erinje is undersized and weather-beaten with only a couple of officers. When asked how the community manages to protect itself, the young men stared at one another as though they had heard a forbidden question. One of them who had engrossed himself with figures from a roughly folded piece of lottery papers raised his head. “We don’t have to worry about that here. God has provided the bees to watch over us. We should be talking about this economic recession that is biting so hard.”

The most vocal of them who gave his name as Iseoluwa confirmed the commando-like, three-day invasion of the bees at the beer joint. For confirmation, he challenged this reporter to bring armed men to the community the next day under the guise of fomenting trouble and experience first-hand the fury of the bees.

Chief Ayeniyi Olayeye said the role of bees in protecting his community is not a mere fallacy. “That has been our heritage from time immemorial. My father told me that if Erinje was invaded by enemies, the bees will come out to defend the community. You may not survive it. Ode-Erinje is undoubtedly a powerful community, but it’s quite unfortunate that our fathers have gone with some of the powers because this younger generation may misuse them,” he expressed.

For a community endowed with a large deposit of silica sand for glass production and bitumen, it ought to be a tourism hub for investors. But this is not the case for Ode-Erinje. Most of its youth like Akinloye have downed their farming tools for motorcycling and lottery. The aged walk to their cassava farms on glowing silica sands; the bush path to their palm plantation, flowing with bitumen. Different governmental agencies have come to raise their hope to high heavens, promising industrialisation, only to dash it.

With the Ondo State gubernatorial election around the corner, the campaigners have started invading Erinje with banners and promises; meanwhile the mysterious bees look on from their sacred abode.