Category: Northern Reports

By Chuks Oluigbo

Benue State felt like home when I served there as a Corps Member. Peaceful. Safe. Comfortable. And a large dose of hospitality. The present Secretary to the Government of the Federation, George Akume, was the governor then. The current NYSC spokesman, Eddy Megwa, whom I remember as a handsome young man with a charming smile, was state NYSC Public Relations Officer before he was whisked away, midway into our service year, to Abuja. He used to wow us with talks about the information superhighway at a time when the internet was just taking root in Nigeria and many were yet to understand its full ramifications.

Though I served in Makurdi, the state capital, I felt the buzz of farming activities, especially because I had my PPA in the North Bank area where people still cultivated farmlands. But that was nothing compared to the rural areas. Hardworking folks! Great farmers, every one of them! The teachers in the school where I served always disappeared from town at weekends to tend to their farms in their villages. And at harvest time you would not just hear of their bounteous harvests of rice, yam and other food items, you would get a share.

Everywhere I turned, I could see where the state got the sobriquet ‘Food Basket of the Nation’. Yam was superabundant and cheap, as were other food items. Some business savvy corps members started transporting yam to the East. I chose to eat the yam instead – especially pounded yam. The school where I served paid N3,000 monthly as local allowance, and that amount was enough to stock up on foodstuff at the North Bank market till the next month, but you needed an occasional dash to the market for regular things like fresh vegetables. A bottle of More Lager, brewed by Benue Brewery Limited, sold for N100, and with another N100 you could get a sizeable chunk of roasted pork. Tito sold chilled fresh yoghurt in glasses at Tito Gate and its other outlets. It was a delight on a hot afternoon. I accumulated plenty of adipose tissue within a few months and had to place myself on a strict fitness regimen.

Benue was peaceful and safe. We traversed the land under the auspices of the state chapter of the National Association of Catholic Corps members, of which I was elected PRO. It was either a NACC state convention or a visit to NACC members out there. From Katsina-Ala to Vandeikya, Otukpo, Gboko, Aliade, Agatu, Obadigbo, Logo and many other places that I cannot readily remember their names, not once did we have a cause to fear for our lives. Not once did we hear of any killings.

The folks I related with – from neighbours in the corpers’ lodge to teachers in the school where I served, the students, and regular folks on the street – were friendly. I made quite a couple of friends, though I’ve lost touch with almost everyone of them. I fell in love with Benue that I longed to return there after service.

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But the Makurdi sun was not friendly. We used to debate whether it was hotter in Makurdi or in Maiduguri, until my Corper colleague, Habiba, who had lived all her life in Maiduguri, said the Maiduguri sun was a learner compared to Makurdi’s. So the Benue River became my place of succour. Just by the bridge that links Wurukum and North Bank on the Makurdi-Lafia Road, there is a descent that takes you to the mouth of the mighty Benue. In the dry season, the water level would recede, leaving not-so-deep ends that one could swim in. Tiny islands would form at different points on the river that you could paddle a canoe from the shallow end to any of the tiny islands. So I would go there after school hours and soak myself in the refreshing waters of the Benue till sundown.

That was before these demons of death besieged the land. Now all we hear from Benue are blood-curdling tales of death and destruction. Each time I hear these gory tales, my heart bleeds, and I never cease to offer a word of prayer for the peace-loving people of Benue. But even as I pray, I am saddened knowing for certain that prayer would not stop the murderous march. Only concrete action would. With hindsight, one could tell that the murderers are lurking in the shadows waiting to re-emerge to wreak more havoc as soon as the guard is let down. It’s painful, too, that they are not stopping at Benue. Virtually every state in the country has felt – or is feeling -the pangs. It’s even more calamitous that those who should be in charge seem not to know – or are pretending not to know – what lies in wait. Which is why they are prescribing Paracetamol for an ailment that is fast chipping away at the very heart of the country.