This must seem capricious, given the exigencies and the sheer volatility of the moment. Need I recite the litany that everyone knows so well?
Twenty-wetin’? I can almost hear the reader gasp in disbelief. Twenty-wetin’?
But those who are not too far gone in their cynicism, especially those among them who have also been paying close attention to what some of the best authorities have been saying, will have no difficulty apprehending that the year 2020 must now be the focus of the national policy dialogue.
To cite just two of the best authorities aforementioned: The World Bank Group said six weeks ago that the recession had bottomed out and would end soon. And only last week, the Minister of Information, Alhaji Lai Mohammed, drawing on a report from the Central Bank of Nigeria, said the recession was fast tapering off and would end by June.
Let nobody call this optimism unfounded. At the height of the recession, the government’s main problem was how to find the money to pay all the bills. Now the money has been pouring in from sources expected and unexpected in such abundance that the problem now is how to spend it. The wheel has turned full circle, from the oil-boom days of General Yakubu Gowon’s regime. The good old days are about to return, even if only slowly
Then, an acute shortage of foreign exchange, the U.S. dollar especially, virtually grounded manufacturing. Now, there is so much foreign exchange in supply that the banks which used to hoard them and sell to buyers at rates that it would be polite to call usurious, are literally begging customers to come buy. But takers are few and far between. They are stuck with a glut.
Only three years now stand between our exit from the one and our entry into the other; between a desultory 2017 and a 2020 full of the great expectations encapsulated in Vision 20:2020
Here is the first of several Vision Statements, formulated in 1999:
By 2020, Nigeria will have a large, strong diversified, sustainable and competitive economy that effectively harnesses the talents and energies of its people and responsibly exploits its natural endowments to guarantee a high standard of living and quality of life to its citizens, The Statement continued.
The whole thing had begun life as Vision 2010, in the time of the debauched dictator Sani Abacha. He inaugurated the Vision 2010 Committee in September 1996 and charged it to produce a report no later than September 1997. The Committee was chaired by Ernest Shonekan, whose tragi-comic pretence of being head of state Abacha had tolerated for 83 days before summarily kicking him out back in 1993.
Its remit was, first, to determine why, some 36 years after independence, national development lagged far behind Nigeria’s vast potential and, second, to envision where Nigeria should be in 2010, five decades after attaining sovereign rule.
In reality, the whole thing was to provide a setting for Abacha to transform himself into a civilian president, under a new Constitution that would grant him two six-year terms. He did not live to pursue his scheme
On taking office in 1999, President Olusegun Obasanjo exhumed the Vision 2010 document, dusted it up, breathed new life into it and projected it as the blueprint for catapulting Nigeria to the league of the 20 biggest economies in the world by the year 2020. His bid to amend the constitution to allow him a third term —to implement Vision 2020, among other projects — crashed on a procedural vote on the floor of the Senate.
On succeeding Obasanjo, President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua more or less embraced Vision 2020, renamed Vision 20: 2020, but his mantra was The Seven-Point Agenda. Until he died two years after taking office, it was hard to tell which was goal and which was mechanism: The Vision, or The Agenda
Among its specific targets: By 2020, a Gross Domestic Product (GDP) of not less than $900 billion and national per capita income of not less than $4,000 per year, and generation of 60,000megawatts (mw) of electricity by 2020. These targets, Vice President (as he then was) Goodluck Jonathan said while launching the Vision Document, might even be achieved earlier.
In fact, Jonathan could hardly wait until 2020 for Nigeria to be counted in the league of world’s 20 largest economies. His administration re-calibrated the economic data and came up with the finding that Nigeria, not South Africa as was generally supposed, had far and away the largest economy in Africa, and the 16th largest in the world. And as if the Vision was not sufficiently freighted already, he grafted an Industrial Revolution on it.
Given present realities, it seems clear that the targets set out so clearly and eloquently in all the Vision documents are unlikely to be achieved. When 2020 comes three years hence, will Paradise be postponed again?
That won’t be the first time.
Most of the good things in Vision 20:2020 and its antecedents were supposed to bring should have become commonplace some 17 years ago, in 2000, the magical year that marked all at once the end and the beginning of a decade, a century and a millennium, a conflation that occurs only once in a thousand years.
That was the year Paradise was going to be regained.
There would be education for all, health for all, shelter for all, water for all, transportation for all, food for all, clothing for all, shelter for all, and money for all. There would be absolutely no need to worry about admissions into schools and universities, for there would be enough places for everyone. Hunger would vanish from the land, and so would homelessness and disease.
When they were peddling these nostrums in the 1980s, the target year of 2000 seemed quite safe. Almost like a thief in the night, it came and went. But the Paradise it promised never came. In Nigeria, it was postponed, until 2020. And now that 2020 is nigh upon, and with everything indicating that the targets are unlikely to be achieved, will Paradise have to be postponed again, perhaps to 2030, 2040, even 2050?
President Muhammadu Buhari’s Economic Recovery and Growth Plan (2017-2020) two years late in the making, treads basically the same paths and promises the same outcomes as the Vision Documents I have here examined, though couched in far less portentous tones. One can only hope that it will fare better than what came before.
A much earlier Paradise envisioned in the Second National Development Plan (1970-74) launched shortly after the end of the civil war, a time of giddy optimism when Nigerians thought all things possible and petrodollars poured at a rate that overwhelmed the national exchequer, should not pass unremarked.
The goals of the Plan were to establish Nigeria firmly as
a strong, self-reliant nation;
a great and dynamic economy;
a just and egalitarian society;
a land of bright and full opportunities for all citizens, and
a free and democratic society.
It hardly got off the drawing board. Less than a decade later, President Shehu Shagari was setting up a Presidential Task Force, supervised by one of the most influential members of his cabinet, to import rice.
Some five decades and several Vision Documents later, how to produce enough rice for Nigeria’s teeming population lies at the heart of the national policy dialogue, and the prospect of generating enough electricity recedes with each passing day. Toothpicks remain high on the import list.
They are beautiful, jovial and tough. SEUN AKIOYE, who was in Somalia, reports on the exploits of female security personnel who are at the frontline of the war against the terror group Al-Shabaab.
SERGEANT Uduak Johnson of the Nigeria Police (Mobile Division) had just received a rather frightening order, one that would send cold shivers down the spines of tough talking guys. But for Uduak, it was a usual order that made her “feel good”. It has been part of her daily life since January 2016 when she was deployed in Somalia.
The ‘feel good’ order had been issued by Superintendent of Police Theo Eze, who is the leader of the 140-strong mobile police unit from Nigeria also referred to as the Front Police Unit (FPU), which has the mandate to help Somalia Police Force clear out the remnants of insurgents from the federal capital Mogadishu and other yet-to-be-liberated regions of Somalia.
“This is normal for me,” Uduak began as she caressed the riot gunner on her laps. Across from her, Corporal Ajoyemi Sunday looked at her with admiration and readjusted his AK-47 rifle, which was placed between his legs.
Uduak and her colleagues were travelling in the Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV) and had been given an order to proceed on night patrol through some of the most dangerous streets in Mogadishu. On many nights, they are engaged in stop-and-search operations where on many occasions, weapons belonging to the dreaded terror group Al-Shabaab had been discovered, with deadly operations prevented and lives saved.
“I actually felt good when I was deployed here. Since it is a peace keeping mission, it is helping our African brothers and helping Somalia to find peace. That is why I was happy when I came here,” Uduak said with pride.
She is a beautiful, tough lady. But Uduak behaves like a girl, a teenager perhaps, as she giggles, laughs and plays like every other woman in spite of her position as a mobile policewoman.
Women have always been part of the fighting force of the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM), which has deployed thousands of troops since 2007 in the fight against Al-Shabaab. After fierce fighting, AMISOM was able to retake Mogadishu and other surrounding cities. This victory however came at a price: in coordinated attacks against AMISOM troops by Al-Shabaab, hundreds of soldiers and policemen from across Africa have paid the ultimate price.
Uduak is one of those one can refer to as an old coaster. Somalia was not the first mission she had been to. Two years ago, she spent eight months in South Sudan as part of the rebuilding process for the war-torn country. In Somalia, she has had her low moments too, when the pressure got too hard and she felt like quitting.
“Somalia is more terrible than Sudan because we didn’t have the issues of bomb blast and other attacks. Here in Somalia, everything is unpredictable. We have bomb blasts and serious attacks. But God is in control, so we are fine,” Uduak said.
‘If you don’t kill them, they will kill you’
Corporal Jane Naigogo leaned against the wall of Liido Seafood Restaurant and stood at attention. Behind her, the Indian Ocean surged angrily against the walls of the restaurant as Somali children threw themselves into the blue waves.
Liido Seafood Restaurant was quiet with only a few Somalis sitting at the lounge to enjoy the much advertised menu. Between 2012 and January 2016, Liido was the most popular restaurant in Mogadishu, a rendezvous for middle and upper class Somalis. There were seafood and exotic array of dishes on order. With choice wine and beautiful women, the Indian Ocean completes the luxury.
The peace of Liido beach was broken on January 22, 2016. Instead of seafoods and choice wines, blood flowed in the restaurant and the Indian Ocean changed its blue rays for blood.
As dinners gathered for the evening choice dishes, a van laden with explosives rammed into the lobby, detonating its deadly content. Al-Shabaab militants raced into the building, shooting everyone on sight. In the end, more than 20 diners and about eight of the attackers lay dead. Four months later, nothing remained of the deadly attack which claimed so many lives. The walls were washed and painted and the whole building had undergone complete makeover, with water-tight security.
“It was hard when I first arrived in Somalia. I was deployed to the front and immediately, we came under Al-Shabaab attack. It was a terrible battle and many people died on that day,” Jane said in a voice that carried no emotion.
Jane had spent one year on the killing fields of Somalia but did not feel that it was a sacrifice too much to bear. “We are fighting for peace in this place. Africa has to be one, and whatever we can do to make it peaceful, we must do it,” she responded to a question from the reporter with philosophical calmness.
But preaching peace has no place on the battle field. Living with death on every deployment to the war front is a reality that can stretch the faith of an obstinate believer like Jane. “There are many times I am afraid and I think I am going to die. But then, I realise it is either you kill them or they kill you. The decision is made for you naturally.”
Jane joined the Ugandan army in 2005 after her secondary education. According to her, she was driven by the need to help contribute to peace in the war that was ongoing in the northern region of Uganda. But her quest for peace didn’t end in her country; it would take her to anywhere her passion can meet with service.
As one of the women at the front seat of the fight against Al-Shabaab in Somalia, Jane believes women can contribute more to global peace by taking active role in battle grounds even at the risk of their lives. “We risk everything—our family and life—to bring peace to troubled regions. It is not a small sacrifice,” she said.
The women who have taken up arms against Al-Shabaab face numerous dangers, especially because of their gender. Working in a strict Muslim country requires them to be modestly dressed with headscarf whenever they appear in public. The women are also not immune to the various asymmetric attacks launched by the terrorists, particularly on AMISOM targets.
The women in the war in Somalia, who are constantly in harm’s way, can be found in various fields in the country. There are those in the Front Police Unit and some are individual police experts (IPEs). In the military, there are women who are gunners and tank drivers as well as those who have risen to positions of leadership as platoon or sector commanders.
‘I’ve no fear of Al-Shabaab’
When you see Captain Flavia Terimulungi Muhindwa of the Ugandan Army, your mind would imagine her not being in an army uniform but in a matron’s robe, quietly working among sick people, spreading hope and healing. Not deceiving yourself however, Flavia is a tough, battle-tested, tough talking Public Information Officer of the Ugandan Army in Somalia. She has been in the army for 15 years, seen action in Northern Uganda and the Congo before deployment to Mogadishu.
The captain has been in Somalia for six months, and it is her duty to counter the propaganda which has been the major non-violent weapon of Al-Shabaab.
”We have the major challenge of propaganda from the terrorists. They harass the people and spread malicious propaganda against us and even harass the people who are supposed to be giving us information. We had to think out strategies to counter them. That is one of the big challenges of this job,” she said.
But propaganda is not the real danger Flavia has to face in Somalia. She has had many encounters with Al-Shabaab and had come out unscathed.
“I am not afraid of Al-Shabaab,” Flavia said and began to laugh. When she was reminded that the terrorist group is no laughing matter, she responded: “I am here to finish Al-Shabaab. Our target is to drive them out of Somalia. I have been going to the forward bases. I have fought against them and have been ambushed many times. We had to fight our way out of every ambush,” she said.
But dying is not on Flavia’s mind. She went into every dangerous mission with the mind that it is not going to be her last. “I go into every battle with the mind that I will come out alive. I never entertain any fear. Moreover, I trust in God to protect me,” she declared.
‘If your death is in Somalia, God will bring you here’
Unlike some of the other women, Christine Alala, the Deputy AMISOM Commissioner of Police in Somalia, actually applied for the job. And 11 months after she beat several male competitors to the job, she is neither afraid nor regrets.
She said: “How can I be afraid when I applied for this job? I am a professional police officer and we were trained for this kind of work. Seriously, what is it that men can do that women cannot do? This is my second mission at leadership position. I came here because I believe I am capable,” Christine said.
As a commissioner of police in Uganda, she is used to tough situations and she is not modest about her capacities. “I think I am a strong woman who doesn’t get scared,” she said. “Since I came here, several bombs have gone off. The shelling of mortars has been ceaseless. But we are safe. We also have the confidence that the military is all around us. There are several rings of security before you get here.”
But the ring of security around the base camp over the years has proved not to be foolproof. There have been many coordinated attacks at the camp with corresponding casualties. On December 4, 2014, insurgents fired several mortars into the camp. Also on January 1, 2016, insurgents infiltrated the camp, killing some soldiers and injuring many others. On May 2, 2016, several mortars were fired into the camp. The only casualty in that attack happened to be a cat.
With uncertainties around, Christine has a philosophical calmness about the whole death business: “If it is your day, you die. If your death is in Somalia, God will bring you here,” she said to the shock of the reporter.
‘I usually say my last prayers’
But the women of war are not restricted to those who bear arms against Al-Shabaab. There are many who do not engage in warfare but are nonetheless in peril of death and war. One of such is Mrs. Toyin Adejumo, the Administration and Human Resource Officer for AMISOM. Adejumo is a very important component of AMISOM as she handles all logistics, human resources and welfare of the entire troop. It is a tedious and mostly frustrating position which Adejumo has managed to perform creditably for two years.
Being a civilian, the sound of mortars and bullets has a peculiar impression on her. It leaves her badly shaken and nervous.
“It is a variety of experiences. It is horrifying sometimes when I hear the sound of shelling and shooting. The whole camp is shaken. I will just kneel down and pray to God for forgiveness,” Adejumo said and burst into a prolonged laughter.
Being a civilian in the camp has no special privileges for Adejumo. She was affected by the several curfews imposed on Mogadishu in the wake of the several horrifying attacks in the city. For instance, due to asymmetric attacks, social life in Mogadishu is non-existent. The beach which had been the only escape from boredom has been closed “because of unexpected attacks from the sea.”
In her time in Mogadishu, Adejumo has had many close shaves with death. There was an attack which claimed the life of the former Deputy Police Commissioner who, according to several sources, was so badly injured in the bomb blast he was only recognised by his shoe lace.
The attacks step up during Ramadan and so is the security, curtailing even the little freedom left for the soldiers and civilians. In 2015, there was an attack on the Burundi camp, leaving at least 50 soldiers dead. Insurgents stole the army uniforms and ammunition. A mini ceremony was held for the dead at the base camp.
Adejumo recalled: “It was a horrifying experience. Hearing all these things and the pressure it piles on you can kill. One night, I was sleeping when I heard a blast around 4 am. Before I could recover myself, another blast was heard. I quickly covered my head in prayer, asking God if it was time to go,” she said.
Torn between love and war
The women of war are not concerned only about bombs and terrorists; they are also mothers and lovers, with their loved ones far away from the theatre of war. For instance, Captain Flavia is a mother of four children and a non-military husband. So how does her husband cope with her many overseas duties?
“My husband and I understand each other,” she said, betraying emotions for the first time. “What is interesting is that he is civilian, not a soldier. But he understands me. He allows me to go, as this is state duty.
“He is taking care of the children. He is also responsible for the kids. They belong to both of us. The first is 11 and the last was born two years ago. They miss me, but they know mummy is at work. I miss their love, but they know sometime I will come and see them. I call my husband twice a week.”
For Adejumo, her family has been relocated to Nairobi Kenya to keep them closer to her in Somalia, and she usually visits during her official leave. However, she stays practically in control of her home, monitoring progress through the telephone.
Christiane Alala is a widow with two boys. Her husband died in 2004 and since then, she has been responsible for the training of her children. To take her mind off her personal tragedy, she has immersed herself in her work, rising from the ranks to the position of Commissioner of Police in Uganda.
She said: “I am a mother of two sons and a widow since 2004. I am grown now and have seen the boys grow up. The big boy is 19 and the small one is 15. I prepared the boys psychologically, especially in South Sudan where I served for two years.
“It doesn’t mean that when you are in a mission you don’t have time for your family. It is flexible and you can make time for your family. I go home every other month,” she declared in a voice that shows she has healed.
Uduak is lucky to have a fiancé who completely trusts her, even though she is far away for long periods. “He is happy to see me serve my country. He has no problem with my work,” she said.
But is marriage close in the horizon? Uduak laughed. It was the sort that seems to hide an embarrassing situation. “Only God can decide that,” she confessed.
Corporal Jane is looking for love. For many years, she has dreamt of a prince charming, who will not be coming to save her, as she can protect herself, but will love her as she is. Marriage is very important to her and at 29 years, she will be glad to settle down immediately.
“I will like to get married, I am getting old but I am researching and preparing myself. My parents are very concerned about this. I will get married as soon as I get the right man,” she said.
The women say they miss their home and food. Uduak misses her parents, edikaikong and afang soups. Flavia misses her own kitchen. Jane does not really miss her home as she is “not tired of Somalia.” Christine gets to see her boys every two months, cook their special dish and look forward to seeing them again.
So how do these women cope with the men in their platoons?
For Christine, it is a simple matter of police discipline, even though the challenge of managing a multi-national police force. “It is a challenge, not easy to handle people from different countries, but police discipline cuts across, whether it is Nigeria or Kenya or Uganda, and that makes it a little easy once there is respect for command.”
Captain Flavia is a Company Commander comprising of three platoons. She has had no problems with the men under her command. They respect and obey her.
She said: “At my level, I am a company commander. I have commanded a platoon of 38 men. They believe in us and we make it. We have women tank drivers, gunners. It is challenging because we are not at home, but we have made it. There are many women who have been here since platoon group one. The first battle group had three women and they go on increasing.”
Jane said the men in her company take her as a sister. “I don’t get lonely here. My guys keep me busy and going. They respect and protect me as their sister. Once you join the army, you have to behave like a man. When they fire, we women also fire. We are one in the army.”
For Uduak, there is no difference between her and her male colleagues. “We have a job here, especially with the women who suffer terribly from Al-Shabaab. As a woman, I am able to get across to them better than the men. So, that is another specialised job for us female officers.”
Corporal Ajoyemi looked at Uduak and smiled. “She is a man to me. I cannot count her as a woman or she will not be beside me in battle. I can entrust my life in her hands.”
The Somali National Army (SNA) has won some spectacular victories against Al-Shabaab with the help of AMISOM troops, but it is far from being a standard army by all standards. The SNA was hurriedly put together by AMISOM and it consists of former militia and clan lords. A large section of the army also consists of teenagers and young adults whose only qualification is that they are susceptible to being recruited by Al-Shabaab.
It is not unusual to see the soldiers in tattered uniforms in an SUV, driving furiously along Mogadishu’s violent streets, rifles pointed to heaven or at any object that caught their fancy. We encountered some of them during our tour of the city and one youth wearing an army camouflage trousers under a dirty singlet caught the reporters’ attention. He was surrounded by his colleagues who wore ferocious and unfriendly looks.
As we rushed to interview him and take his pictures, Lt. Sekito warned us. “Absolutely not!” he screamed. “Do not talk to him or take his pictures.” The boy himself had given us a look that rendered Sekito’s second warning unnecessary. We retreated into the safety of our IFV.
We understood later that due to lack of opportunities, the government had to recruit some of these youngsters and every willing body into the army. “If you give an illiterate teenager a gun with the power to use it, you can imagine what he will do with it. But if they are not in the SNA, the other option is to be recruited by Al-Shabaab,” one of our handlers told me.
Yet the challenges facing AMISOM is far greater than teenager soldiers. Troops who were more accustomed to peace keeping missions where a ceasefire agreement is already in place were simply unprepared for the surprise that awaited them in Somalia.
“We didn’t come here for war. We thought it would be like the other missions, but this is real war. Many of our colleagues are dead. We are faced with land mines, suicide attacks and bomb blasts. This is not peace keeping mission,” a soldier said.
There is the problem of rebuilding of infrastructure, especially roads which have suffered during the years of chaos. Lack of accessible roads made it difficult to move supply to soldiers fighting in the frontier. The terror group had lined up IEDs along the routes of supply.
Gen Lakara said: “Somalia is complex, ambiguous and uncertain. When Al-Shabaab vacates an area, they destroy the water and food sources. This is to make life difficult for the people so they could long for the rule of Al-Shabaab.”
It is a dilemma for AMISOM in newly liberated regions. The people yearn for public infrastructure which the federal government cannot provide, and humanitarian agencies which would have filled the void refused to move into the regions, describing them as unsafe and would not allow AMISOM distribute relief materials.
There is the problem of asymmetric attacks which had left the troops very vulnerable, especially the Nigerian Mobile Force which has the responsibility of preventing such attacks. There have also been attacks on the base camp. Last year, about 50 Burundi soldiers reportedly lost their lives when eight insurgents infiltrated the camp. The insurgents also periodically fire mortars into the camp, with minimal damage however.
Rebuilding the institutions has been a major challenge with the Federal Government lacking the resources to finance such projects. During the war, there was massive destruction of homes and government buildings. The society itself is fragmented and disunited. Schools were closed for years and just reopened in 2014. Out of the 50 universities in the country, about 10 have managed to commence academic work.
Remoulding the young population which has known only war and strife is also a challenge, as many have either joined the terror group or are conscripted into the Somali army.
With an insolvent Federal Government, Somali soldiers sometimes go months without salaries. Even the police recruitment is halted until a suitable funder is found for the training, equipping and paying of salaries for at least three years.
There is also the problem of former police officers in the regime before the war who wanted to have the privileges and positions they occupied before the war restored to them in the new dispensation. “They are the most difficult to embrace change. They want things to go back to what thy were before. They didn’t know that policing has evolved,” Police Chief Pillay said.
Pillay believes his men are already performing wonders despite the challenges in the country.
He said: “Everything is a challenge in Somalia. We have 95 IPOs and FPU. We have to cover a big area of Somalia, different teams in charge of different aspects.
“With what they are doing, they are performing miracles. Funding does not restrict us from doing our work. We have knowledge we want to share, and that is what we are focused on. It is our main aim.”
Perhaps no one carries the weight of optimism more than the Special Representative of the African Union Commission for Somalia (SRCC), Ambassador Francisco Caetano Jose Madeira, who believes that Somalia has what it takes to be the best.
He said: “Some people try to give the impression that Mogadishu is a hopeless place. It has the potential to get better.
‘AMISOM police is very good’
“On the military side, we are doing very well in three regions where they have pushed Al-shabaab out and maintained peace.”
But Jose Madeira cannot deny that Somalia is a complex situation and that governance has taken a long time in coming. He accepted that the SNA has not been able to sustain the liberated cities. “Terrorists can leave the town during the day and come back in the night to assassinate people. They have only one phrase, ‘You Die’,” he said.
But the SRCC said the intention of AMISOM is to continue to take towns from the terrorists, develop capacity to defeat the land mines and IEDs.
“We need air surveillance to detect the movement of the enemy. We need an intelligent base approach to pursue, harass and destroy individual Al-Shabaab moving in small groups. We need humanitarian organisations to help with provisions,” he said.
Lessons for Nigerian warmongers
Assistant Commissioner of Police (ACP), Rex Dundun, sat in his office at the Hanane base camp. The room was small but he managed to even carve out a conference space from it. Dundun serves as the Police Chief of Staff and the highest ranking Nigerian police officer in Somalia. He believes the extent of damage from the war is a lesson for all Africans, especially the elements in Nigeria who shout for war at the slightest provocation.
“Do you know what the war has done to this country? There is no family that didn’t lose at least two people and no house in town which you won’t find bullet holes. I sometimes wish that the Nigerians shouting for war should be put in a plane and brought to Somalia. They will surely keep quiet after that,” he said.
Dundun is the only Nigerian officer in the senior leadership team and has worked hard to preserve the reputation of the country. His experience in peace keeping and police training is huge and he believes the Nigerian contingent has done creditably well.
“We have 140 FPU and 25 individual experts in various fields of training. We have done excellently well. When we go on international missions, we get accolades, but the dynamics and environment at home is different,” Dundun said.
Assistant Superintendent of Police (ASP) Akpoilih Albert is one of such experts. Trained in the United States as a bomb expert, he is one of the highly skilled officers in Somalia. Albert said as Nigerians, they have cultural differences with colleagues from East Africa.
“We are holding our own against other nations, but we have cultural differences, especially with the East Africans. When we talk, they feel we are shouting and they just don’t understand where we got our energies from,” he said.
Albert misses home as there is no social life in Somalia. “This is war, not peacekeeping. So we are greatly restricted even from interacting with the local population. It is from your hostel to the office. I don’t even go to the mess. I cook my own food.”
Being Nigerians also has its disadvantages. At the Marine Market where the officers patronise, local merchants only need to know you as a Nigerian and the price would go at least five times over.
“They always shout Nigeria is big. Nigeria has money. You can afford any price,” Albert said.
Night patrol in search of Al-Shabaab
One of the highpoints of our mission was the night patrol with the SNP and FPU of Nigeria and Uganda. The FPU has been responsible for preventing several attacks in Mogadishu. In the thick of this operation are the 140 strong Nigerian mobile policemen and women who brave the odds to prowl Mogadishu’s dangerous streets night and day. The officers are kept at the stadium camp in Yawshid District on the outskirts of the city. The camp is heavily fortified by a contingent of soldiers.
The stadium camp has a not too sterling past as it was the recruitment and training camp for AL-Shabaab. It was also the death camp where amputations and executions took place. Before the war, it was where sporting talents were discovered and nurtured. Now it houses the FPU from Nigeria and Uganda. Not a few of my colleagues developed apprehension about our night mission, which could prove deadly for everyone involved. The fear was more pronounced as one looked at the bomb-ridden stadium camp which sent cold shivers down our spines. Images of blood and elaborate executions were hard to delete from the mind.
We arrived at the Nigerian camp into the waiting arms of enthusiastic and friendly police officers. Hands were pumped, banter exchanged and introductions made. SP Eze welcomed us and insisted on showing a bit of Nigerian hospitality.
The Nigerians must have sacrificed much of their supply as we were lavished with a Nigerian three course meal of pepper soup, main course and desert. Then Eze gave us a pep talk: “This night, we will go out with you to see how the FPU are performing their duties in Somalia. You will patrol some flash points and we will meet with the Ugandan FPU at the parliament.
“We want you to observe some security tips. Our patrol team will give you covering fire as you do your jobs as journalists. Please heed their advice. Somalia is getting better, but we won’t like anything funny to happen tonight. We want your coverage to be hitch free.”
Eze didn’t receive any applause at the end of his speech. In fact, on hearing “covering fire,” I lost taste of the food I was eating. I know what ‘covering fire’ is and it wasn’t a pretty thing at all. I certainly didn’t want ‘covering fire’.
At 9 pm, we left in a convoy of four IFVs with heavily armed mobile policemen and headed northward. The police officers wore tense and grave countenance. Although Mogadishu had been cleared of all forms of insurgents, it is still a deadly city as members of the terror group had successfully infiltrated the population and no one is safe until you are on your bed.
We passed through Sayidka Maka Road and all around, we could see the Somalis living their lives as quietly as possible. After about 30 minutes of bumpy ride, we arrived at the centre of Mogadishu where the seat of government was located.
Here we met with the SPF mobile men and began an aggressive stop-and-search exercise. In the past, this has yielded much result with deadly attacks prevented. The FPU played a supervisory role here as the SPF team took charge.
Eze said: “The mandate is to give operational support to the SPF. So we do every operations together. We mentor, advise and train them. We have conducted stop and search to check the activities of the miscreants. We have mentored the SPF, bearing in mind the fact that they must observe human rights.”
We left after about two hours. The FPU were anxious about getting us back to safety. I was a little disappointed as we did not make any arrests. Neither did we uncover any Al-Shabaab insurgent. I must have been alone with this thought as many others were too happy to return to the safety of our bunkers.
‘Living in Somalia as a journalist is life and death’
Mohamed Moalimuu has just been elected as the Secretary General of National Union of Somali Journalists (NUSOJ) in the first election to be held in over 20 years. Moalimuu is a former British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) reporter and a cat with nine lives, having cheated death twice. In 2013, a suicide bomber jumped on his car and detonated his explosives. The car was completely burnt but Moalimuu escaped. He was again targeted by Al-Shabaab on January 27, 2016 at Liddo beach. This time, he wasn’t so lucky. He has a horrible scar on his head as evidence of how close he had been to death.
Osman Robleh was not an ordinary student; she was one of the active female journalists in the country, a high profile producer at the state run Radio Mogadishu. She was also an active member of the National Union of Somali Journalists (NUSOJ).
On Sunday, June 5, 2016, Osman Robleh left the gates of her university forever. Three minutes after she came out, armed men with pistols pumped several bullets into her chest, heart and head. They ensured that she did not survive. Done with their heinous occupation; they fled, leaving Osman Robleh in a pool of her blood, her beauty disfigured by the ugliness of death. NUSOJ called it an assassination and she became a statistic, the first Somali journalist to be killed in 2016.
Journalists in Somalia have the most dangerous jobs in the world as reporting the atrocities of Al-Shabaab earns them death sentence. For many years, journalists were unable to practise outside their clan enclave. Unionism was proscribed and those who tried to be heros ended in the funeral palour.
“Somalia is one of the most difficult countries that journalists work. You can see the marks on my face. This is the situation in which we work. It is terrible. But we are trying to change it. Living here in Somalia as a journalist is life and death. Many have fled the country. We want a safe environment to work,” Moalimuu said.
According to Aladala Yussuf of Somalia National News Agency (SONNA), Somalia is getting better and the media has been trying to promote good news like opening a new hospital or industry, because “people are tired of bad news.”
He said there are correspondents in all the major cities of the country but acknowledged that safety of journalists is not 100 per cent. “It is getting better. In 2012, we lost 30 journalists and in 2013, we lost 19 reporters. This year, we haven’t lost anyone. So things are getting better.”
As NUSOJ settled at the Jazeera Palace Hotel to hold another meeting, most of the practitioners of the pen profession are young people; many are born into the conflict. One could see the determination on their faces, one which shows they have chosen courage over fear of terror.
Meeting the President
Finally, we met the President of Somalia, Hassan Sheikh Mohamoud, at the Africa Day celebration which had the theme: “The Africa we want.” It was a gathering of all the top brass in Mogadishu, and as expected, security was so tight I would have preferred to stay away from the event.
The President arrived shortly after 4 pm, looking well groomed in a blue checked suit. The event marked several song and drama presentations from troops representing the different countries. The event also reinforced hope for Somalia. And when the President spoke, he addressed the heartfelt issues every Somali faced.
“Today,” he said, “Somalia is a much better place because of the ultimate sacrifice made by our African brothers. We are better and moving towards the polls for the election. We have realised our major objectives, and that is for elections to happen.”
Mohamoud also expressed optimism about defeating terrorism. “Al-Shabaab has been degraded, not eliminated. We have victory within us. We will defeat them wherever they are in Africa.
“They have degraded our humanity. They are in Somalia because large parts of Somalia were ungoverned. Today, we have a government. Yes, Al-Shabaab still controls some small parts of Somalia, but we will defeat them.”
Then he paid tribute to the fallen AMISOM officers: “Somalia knows the sacrifice you have made. We are not ignorant of your pains. Many tears were shed. Children are orphaned, women are widowed. In many parts of the Troop Contributing Countries, we know your pains. Thank you.”
Bright future for Somalia
Nobody could be more upbeat about Somalia’s progress and future prospects than Information Minister Bekos, who believes despite the country having one of the longest conflicts, “Somalia will be a model for Africa.”
He identified the country’s greatest problem as security, saying the people are determined to find peace and move forward.
“We Somalis are determined to find the solution. We are building our country with the help of other Africans. Many politicians have died but we will overcome.”
Bekos said the prospect for an indirect election in 2016 is good, but the country looks forward to an open election by 2020.
He has a message for the rest of Africa: “We are one of the founding fathers of the African Union. We are one and we should make our policy as United States for Africa.”
But for the officers who are daily treading the harm’s way to bring the peace to Somalia, it will require more than optimism and political talk. For General Lakara, a multi-prong approach is required, including governance, tolerance and service delivery.
He says there must be a semblance of governance with the provisions of basic infrastructure which has been destroyed by the terror group. So the people will know that life is better without the Al-Shabaab.
Kibet said Somalis are one of the most industrious people in Africa and the country has the capacity to become one of the richest on the continent. With its agricultural, livestock and marine resources, Somalia can regain the years it has lost due to the conflict and become one of the success stories on the continent.
But that success story may not come easily. On Wednesday June 1, 2016, Al-Shabaab fighters planted a bomb at the Ambassador Hotel located on Maka al-Mukarama Road, in the centre of Mogadishu, a place we had done the patrols less than a week earlier. When the bomb exploded, the fighters seized the opportunity of the chaos to gain entry and began to shoot everyone in sight.
The attack lasted less than an hour. And when the smoke was cleared, about 40 people were wounded. Ten others, including two members of parliament, were dead. The Medina Hospital was overcrowded. Relatives and sympathisers mingled with the wounded and the dead.
“I was the first person to reach the scene. My brother and his son are among those injured. The hospital is overcrowded with injured people. I have never seen something like this before,” Dr. Adbulkadir Andirahman Haji Aden said.
Somalia is calm but unpredictable, Col. Kibet had said. Once again, Mogadishu bowed its head in mourning, despite the gallant work and sacrifice of AMISOM officers like Superintendent Eze and his 140 daring mobile force, of the army commanders, the women who go to war, ACP Dundun, Lt. Sekito and other gallant officers.
But Adouw has words for Al-Shabaab. To the leadership, he said: “Don’t go on killing people. You can’t get to heaven by doing that or by oppressing people. Come and surrender to the government.”
To the young terrorists, he counselled: “If you are told you will have four young girls, they are here, not there in heaven. You only need to come and negotiate with them.”
IT is not by accident. Osun State Governor Rauf Aregbesola is returning the lost glory of the education sector in his state.
The re-classification of schools to Elementary, Middle and High schools was a direct product of a summit held to reposition the sector. According to the Deputy Governor, Mrs Titi Laoye-Tomori, who doubled as the Commissioner of Education, “the re-classification policy is a conscious effort toward repositioning schools in our state from what we met in 2010 to its rightful position of honour and excellence.
“It is not in any way a system of merger as some people mischievously say. It tends towards restructuring the schools in all ramifications for better performance and a means of giving socio-economic power to these future leaders”, she said.
Tomori insisted that the act of restructuring the educational system in Osun and make it meaningful must start from the beginning.
It is in the light of this that the Chairman, Osun State Universal Basic Education Board (SUBEB), Prince Felix Awofisayo at a workshop organised for quality assurance officers recently, reiterated the determination of the board to resuscitate qualitative education from its root.
He explained that comprehensive analysis of the psychology of the pupils and students has revealed that, conducive environment with modern facilities and moderate incentives drastically reduce truancy and absenteeism, and aid the level of learning and assimilation in no small way.
“You will agree with me that this present administration is strongly determined to reform education sector in the state with passion and utmost commitment, particularly in Elementary and Middle Schools, which form the foundation phase of educational growth and development across the globe.
“We have embarked on aggressive and massive infrastructural developments such as construction of new 22 standard Middle schools 20 Elementary Schools of 1000 capacity in bungalows and storey buildings and 34(6-10) classrooms at Ife Odan and Sekona fully equipped with modern students and pupils’ furniture, ICT equipment, science laboratories, water and electricity,” he said.
The Permanent Secretary of the board, Alhaji Fatai Kolawole said there was a profound priority on basic education by the Aregbesola led administration, “for the purpose of building sustainable and strong academic foundation for pupils in the state and make them responsible citizens”.
According to him,” there is indeed a passionate focus and emphasis on basic education, that was what informed the re-classification of schools for greater efficiency and optimal maximisation of human resources, the policy intrinsically reformed the 6-3-3-4 , where a pupil will spend his four years in the Elementary school, another five years in the Middle school, and the rest three in the high school.
“It is in the face of this dangerous anomaly that governor Rauf Aregbesola accessed a loan to the tune of N11bn(Eleven billion naira) for the provision of infrastructure not only in the elementary schools but including some of the dilapidated high schools in the state.
“He also initiated the school feeding system, where pupils at the elementary schools were given lunch daily, to make school more attractive to them, and give them the sense of home away from home; the policy that the government still sustain up till this moment despite the economic distress, “he said.
Speaking at the multi-million naira Gbongan Olufi Middle School recently Governor Rauf Aregbesola expressed his resolve to build 100 elementary schools where he re-emphasised the need for prioritising basic education as the bedrock for reliable and strong educational system.
Also, at the inauguration of Anthony Uduofia Government Elementary School in Osogbo on Tuesday, January 12, the governor disclosed that N140,000,000 was expended on the 1000-capacity school, which was named after the first military administrator of the state, Navy Captain Anthony Uduofia(Rtd)
According to the governor, the school presently has about 600 pupils and hopes to get more pupils to fill up the vacant seats.
“We spent about N140,000 000 (One hundred and forty millions Naira) to complete the school, including furniture, land scaping and esthetics ,” he said.
Aregbesola maintained that it was criminal to use monies that were meant for building infrastructure to pay salaries, and implored youths to brace up and engage in productive activities that will create job and wealth to their people and also serve as reliable source of taxation for the government.
However, a Headmaster in one of the newly built schools, Methodist Elementary school, Oke-Omi, Osu, in the Osun East senatorial district, Mr Fagbemiro Idowu lauded the initiative of the government to change the face of schools in the state, saying the modern structure, coupled with school feeding system has increased attendance with about 45 per cent.
Also, the Facility Manager at the 1, 200-capacity Middle School, Modakeke, Mrs Grace Akindipe told the Nation that the infrastructural developments in schools across the state has impacted tremendously on the pupils and students alike, and raised the bar of academic excellence.
Speaking in the same vein, a community leader and social crusader at Ipetumodu in Ife North Council Area of the state, where another 900 -capacity Elementary School was sited, Chief Banire Timehin said the unique policy in the educational sector of Osun in the year 2016 was the Community Based School Management Committee (CBSMC).
In his words” many Nigerians, especially, the younger generation may have forgotten that schools used to select upstanding members of the community where such schools were located as management committee being in charge of the schools from the standpoint of collective community ownership of these schools.
This arrangement tends to bond the people in the community and the schools together. When each community sees the neighbourhood school projects as their own, a sense of collective ownership and a bond with the school becomes feasible.
How do you solve a problem like Somalia? With a conflict spanning 25 years, half a million casualties and several millions of displaced persons, many people have given up on the war-torn country until the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) arrived in the port city of Mogadishu to a hail of bullets and mortals. Almost 10 years later, Assistant Editor, SEUN AKIOYE, was embedded with the AMISOM troops in Somalia and he reports on the pains and victories of war.
THERE was no ominous sign on the evening of November 9, 2014 as Nuerre Mohammed Ali, a freelance journalist with Radio Kulmiye in Mogadishu, Somalia, closed from work and began his usual drive home on Taheh Street in Hodan District along Kilometre 4. The engine of his car revved into life without a second prodding and nothing gave an indication of the tragedy that was about to change his life forever.
The tragedy happened in a split second. Like in a movie, a bomb that had been planted inside his car exploded, sending him into a shock and a coma. Smoke and fire engulfed the vehicle and his right leg was severed from his hips. Left in excruciating pains, the first people who responded believed he was dead but Ali survived.
“The bomb was attached to my car, and when it exploded, I lost my right leg. It was a huge shock for me, but I believe it is from Allah,” he said.
He spent several weeks in the hospital while doctors managed to sew together whatever remained of his legs.
“I am still in pains. I have not recovered. The doctor asked me to go for treatment abroad but there is no money to do that as no group has claimed responsibility for the bombing.” Now growing emotional, he added: “I am so sorry, dear. I can’t continue to talk about my accident. Please ask me another question.”
Ali still practises journalism, but his life has been altered forever as he is now forced to live on crutches and endure unbearable pains with no respite in sight. He insists, however, that he has no regrets being a journalist.
“Yes, I am still a journalist, and I have no regrets for that,” he said.
For many people in peaceful countries, the story of Ali and thousands of others who have lived through the terror of Somalia’s Islamic militant group, Al-Shabaab, sounds like a horror script. But for the people in Somalia, it is the reality of everyday life; one which they have come to accept for 25 years of conflict, blood-letting and death.
But Somalia has not always been in crisis. In fact, it once was one of the most beautiful countries in Africa, according to the country’s Minister of State for Information, Mohamud Abdi Bekos. The houses were painted in bright colours of pink and yellow, orchards hung around walls. Agriculture and livestock were the mainstay of the economy, making food abundant.
The country also has the longest coastline in Africa with the Indian Ocean providing fish and other aquatic splendor. The people were industrious, often able to make everything out of nothing, and they took pride in their clan system, which dates back thousands of years.
The country played a big brother’s role in Africa, helping to establish the Organisation of African Unity (OAU), which preceded the African Union (AU), 27 years ago. It had one of the biggest and most successful airlines in Africa. To be born a Somali was to live in paradise. But in 1991, paradise took a flight and hell took its place.
Descent into hell
Mohamed Siad Barre, a former Chief of Army Staff in the Somali Armed Forces, marched to power on the blood of his boss and the country’s former President, Abdirashid Ali Shermarke, who was shot dead by one of his bodyguards on October 15, 1969.
Barre went on to rule with iron fist. He quickly renamed the country, suspended the constitution and imposed an authoritarian rule on the people. Between 1988 and 1990, there were enough rebel groups against Barre to push the regime to the brinks. By 1991, the United Somali Congress had led other rebel groups to capture Mogadishu, forcing Barre to flee first to Kenya, where Somali dissidents campaigned against his presence, and later to Lagos, Nigeria, where he died of heart failure in 1995.
The crisis that followed Barre’s ouster was unimaginable. Different militant factions competed for power. The central government and all state institutions eventually collapsed and the country lapsed into a bloody civil war, sending millions of Somalis into exile all over the world.
In 1992, the United Nations Security Council Resolution 746 led to the creation of the United Nations Mission in Somalia 1 (UNOSOM). Led by the United States, troops were deployed in Mogadishu. They arrived to a hail of bullets and mortars. By March 1995, the UN troops were forced to withdraw after suffering heavy causalities.
By 2006, a new group, The Islamic Court Union (ICU), had been formed alongside a Transitional Federal Government (TFG). Ethiopian and TFG troops were able to retake the city of Mogadishu from the ICU. By 2007, the African Union (AU) began the process of rebuilding state institutions, including the police and army. The African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) was established. However, with the exit of the ICU, internal wrangling led to factional breakouts. One of such factions is the Harakat al-Shabaab al-Mujahideen, which soon shot up to the list of top terror groups in the world, killing and maiming not only in Somalia but Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda. The Al-Shabaab terror group was born.
Embedded in the army
Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Kibet, the spokesperson for the AMISON armed forces in Somalia, stopped midway into his sentence, looked at the faces of his frightened audience and said: “We are safe. Somalia is calm but it is unpredictable. Here is not hell. It is normal but our movement is restricted.”
Kibet was flanked by top army and police officers, including Captain Flavia Terimulungi Muhindwa, the spokesperson for the Ugandan contingent, Lt. K. Sekito and Chief Inspector of Police and Police contingent spokesperson, John Marete.
After fighting to liberate more than half of Somalia’s vast regions, AMISOM command had brought in journalists from Troop Contributing Countries (TCC) to Somalia for on- the-spot assessment of the situation and report on the progress made by AMISOM. The journalists from Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Ghana and Burundi were being debriefed by Kibet and his assistants.
“We have driven Al-Shabaab out of the town. They are now in remote villages. Their mode of operation is ambush and Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs). We are better now at intelligence gathering, and in the last three weeks, we have intercepted three vehicles laden with explosives in Mogadishu,” Kibet said.
Earlier that day, we had arrived Aden Abdulle Airport in Mogadishu as the cool breeze from the Indian Ocean tilted the plane around. The landing was the next scariest thing to an actual plane crash. The airport, built with Turkish funds, was situated right by the sea shore. One could see evidence of ocean encroachment on the airport but the officials carried on like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The airport was kept sparkling clean by hijab-wearing women, and it was gratifying that Nigerians can get a Somali visa on arrival for the nice sum of $50.
We were driven to a hotel within Hanane Camp where the United Nations (UN) and African Union (AU) are situated and which is the most secured place in Mogadishu, perhaps in all of Somalia. Security was extremely tight. We were forbidden from taking pictures inside the hotel or venture out by ourselves. Pictures taken and posted online could serve as guide to Al-Shabaab who “had spies all over the city.”
Kibet warned: “Do not attempt to go into Mogadishu. Whatever you want, tell us and we will do our best to get it for you.” His voice was no longer friendly; it was commanding.
AMISOM went into Somalia in 2007 as a peace keeping/rebuilding force. The initial platoon comprised veterans of many peacekeeping missions. But Somalia was not going to be the usual mission. Unprepared for war, the soldiers were met with a barrage of attacks from various fighting groups competing for power in Mogadishu. Since then, the mission has also assumed the nature of warfare.
Somalia posed a serious challenge to the AMISOM troops of 22,160 personnel. These include the military and police components. The military are from Burundi, Uganda, Ethiopia, Kenya and Djibouti, while the police are from Nigeria, Ghana and Sierra Leone. The military are engaged in fierce battle against Al-Shabaab, successfully taking territories from the group.
The police are mainly to help rebuild the Somali Police Force (SPF) and individual police experts, recruited based on their training and administrative skills, were deployed for this. However, there are the Front Police Unit (FPU), otherwise known as the Mobile Police, which is deployed to assist the SPF in maintaining peace in Mogadishu and other liberated areas of Somalia. The FPU are from Nigeria and Uganda with 140 personnel each. The commanders are Superintendents of Police (SP), Theo Eze for Nigeria and Abbedi Samuel for Uganda.
“Somalia is calm but unpredictable,” the words of Kibet kept ringing in our ears as the convoy of two Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV) roared along the streets of Mogadishu taking us for our first tour of the city. The IFV is a ‘monster’ fighting machine designed to carry infantry into battle. It has about 20-40mm caliber canon and anti-tank guided missiles (ATGM). The IFV had a trap door weighing over 200 kilogrammes and good for urban fighting.
We were issued with protected amour gears weighing about 10kg and a helmet. It was a particularly heavy and uncomfortable uniform, but Lt. Sekito said to stay alive, we must wear it anytime we were outside. He insisted too, we must wear our helmet inside the IFV. I considered this over bearing from the amiable soldier and quietly dropped my helmet.
As the vehicle roared into the uneven Mogadishu road, it threw us all sideways and then up into the roof, hitting my head against the iron. I never disobeyed Sekito after that.
In order to effectively secure Somalia, the country has been divided into six sectors with Uganda, Kenya, Ethiopia, Djibouti, Burundi in charge of Sectors 1-5 respectively and Kenya handling sector 6. Even though the threat of Al-Shabaab was minimal in Mogadishu, the situation can degenerate at any time.
“The challenge here is that the terrorists have infiltrated the local population. In a house, there might be two brothers, one Al-Shabaab and the other for the government. So tracking them down in the city is a challenge,” Kibet said.
We saw that possibility on our first tour. Nestling in our ‘safe’ IFV, we watched the streets from a safe distance. It was nothing different from any other street with everyone going about their business. But the city can erupt in violence, often without warning.
We passed Shakira Street with bustling human and vehicular traffic. But do not expect to see the usual traffic police here. Instead, half naked, gun welding policemen control the traffic. It was a scary sight but one that Somalis have grown accustomed to.
As we made our way southwards, our IFV bulldozed its way into the streets, drawing looks from residents until we arrived at a well garrisoned Liido Seafood restaurant, which cater to the upper class of Mogadishu. Here, one can also find expatriates who have come to enjoy excellent seafood cuisine by the cool of Liido Beach.
We met a quiet crowd of diners at the restaurant. Somali children were seen playing in the furious waves of the Indian Ocean. All around were sentries mounted with assault rifles and machine guns.
On January 22, 2016, instead of seafood and choice wines, blood flowed in the restaurant and the Indian Ocean exchanged its blue rays for blood. As diners gathered for the evening choice dishes, a van laden with explosives rammed into the lobby, detonating its deadly content. Al-Shabaab militants raced into the building, shooting everyone on sight. In the end, more than 20 diners and about eight of the attackers lay dead.
Four months later, nothing remained of the deadly attack which claimed so many lives. The walls were washed and painted and the whole building had undergone complete makeover, with water tight security.
Among the diners was Abdirahim Isse Addouw, a former spokesperson of the militant ICU, now a converted democrat. He praised AMISOM for bringing the peace that allowed children play again in the waters of the ocean.
“The conflict was bad for a quarter of a century, damaging structures of government. Now, we have hope after the arrival of AMISOM. African solution is helping us and the people of Somalia. Life is getting better,” he said.
But he also advocated for a strategy to win the heart and mind. “I think there should be more awareness than military campaign. The country is large and many people are rural dwellers. I think we should look at other solutions than military,” he said.
Driving through the streets of Mogadishu, the consequences of war could be seen in the abandoned buildings, which once served as palaces for the rich and affluent. Almost all houses still standing had bullet holes in them. We could only imagine the horror that once pervaded the streets of the city.
One of the iconic buildings in the eastern side of the city is the Jazeera Palace Hotel. It is the place for the affluent and the rich patronised by the government and foreign multinationals. Kenya, Eqypt and Qatar had their embassies or offices there too. The hotel is heavily guarded with at least four layers of security checks, a long line of at least 10 feet tall wall and hescos protected the gates, with mounted sentries armed with Ak-47, sub machine guns and mean looks.
Jazeera has survived three suicide attacks in the last two years, the latest being on July 24, 2015 when a truck loaded with explosives rammed into the building, shattering the gates and bringing down a part of the hotel. Four guests died while several were injured.
“Business was severely affected, but we are back to our feet now,” Mark Keville, Chief Security Manager of the hotel, said.
The problem of the clans
Somalia is perhaps the only homogeneous country in Africa. The people not only share tribe affinity but religion, culture and language. It is therefore a surprise that such a society finds it difficult to stay together. The problem as generally acknowledged is the clan system which has operated in Somalia for centuries. Every Somali belongs to the same tribe but different clans.
There are four major clans, namely Darod, Dir, Hawiye and Isaaq. There are other lesser clans too, but they remain insignificant. In the estimation of the Somali, the clan is superior to the federal government and allegiance is to the clan first before the government. After the fall of Barre and the collapse of the government, everyone fell back to the protection of the clan. Inter-clan war ensued as struggle for the control of government intensified.
But is Somalia a homogenous society as earlier thought? Major General Nakus James Lakara, the Deputy Force Commander, Support and Logistics, did not think so. “The Somali society is not homogenous as we thought. As you see, everyone fell back to the clan after 1991, and it has been a big problem to de-clan them.
“The clan system has created many challenges in the development of a national army. There are some places that soldiers from other clans are rejected, even to mention the clan issue here is a taboo,” Lakara said.
The clan is so powerful it also decides who the president is. Elections are scheduled for August 2016, but not as we know it. It will not be one man, one vote. Instead, leaders of the clans will gather to decide who becomes the President. It is a system which would make no sense in a country like Nigeria, but which can ignite a civil war in Somalia if ignored.
A trip to Kismayo
One of the success stories of AMISOM is the liberation of Kismayo, a port city South of Somalia. Formerly the headquarters of the dreaded Al-Shabaab, the city fell to the allied troops in September 2012 in an operation termed “Operation Sledge Hammer.” Since then, AMISOM has laboured to rebuild institutions, especially the police. On May 23, 2016, we flew to Kismayo to attend the passing out parade of 200 police officers.
John Marete explained the significance: “The AMISOM mandate for the police is to train and build the institutional capacity of the police for Somalia. This set of graduates has undergone a three-month training, which is short, but AMISOM trainers would be in continuous contact for on-the-job-training.”
We flew in a UN chartered plane Dash 8-Q400 operated by 748 Air and landed in Kismayo to a flurry of military activities. All the top brass in military and police section were there. But Kismayo International Airport is only a makeshift airstrip. A visitor cannot miss the arrival and departure tree as there is absolutely no facility to protect travellers who have to stand under the various trees while waiting to board the aircraft.
The 200 police graduates stood at attention under the scorching sun and the blinding wind which swept red sands into the eyes of the guests. Many of the officers are former militias who carry a long history of battle with Al-Shabaab.
Sergeant Ahmadu Sule stood in front of the parade in his impeccable uniform of the Nigeria Police and smiled. “I am the head trainer of the new officers,” Sule said proudly. The Nigeria Police contingent has a reputation in Somalia for hard work, professionalism and ethics. They have distinguished themselves in every field even as they were entrusted with the delicate work as FPU. Sergeant Sule is one of the stars of the police unit in Somalia. Nicknamed Singer, he arrived in Somalia on February 5, 2015 and has been deployed all around Somalia to train the newly formed Somali police. Sule packed years of foreign service into his resume, counting India, Italy, Jordan and Liberia.
“I met these people as militias who fought in the capture of Kismayo. It was very difficult to bring them under police discipline, but I worked hard to do that. As a teacher, we adopt many techniques. When I use plan A and it doesn’t work, I switch to Plan B,” he said.
One of the challenges Sule had to overcome is language barrier. “I had to learn how to command and control in Somali,” he said. After fighting guerrilla warfare for many years, submitting to authority in a disciplined manner is hard. Even the women in the police are former militia and some of the new recruits still have bullets in their bodies.
But they didn’t show it in the demonstrations that followed. These battle-toughened recruits displayed ingenuity and dedication as the ill-wind blew red dust into the eyes and everyone ran for cover. They stood there taking all the battering. And for four hours, they stood under the sun.
Rebuilding the Somali Police is a tough job in order to prevent Al-Shabaab elements from infiltration. To take charge of this highly sensitive job is a Nigerian police officer, Chief Superintendent of Police Saley Sumaila.
So how has this Nigerian be able to conduct a free and fair recruitment?
Sumaila said: “I have been here since February 2015. We are here on vetting for phase 2 recruits. Phase 1 is already graduating. It is very important that we get it right about the people we are recruiting. So we have several processes to safeguard us.
“We have background check which is handled by a pre-vetting committee that consists of Somalis in Jubaaland here. A lot of things are considered. The District Commissioner has to sign and confirm that you have not been with the Al-Shabab or other insurgents.
“The local politicians also have to confirm that this person is not part of the terrorists; that is part of the background checks. Then we also do the normal vetting and checks. All this we do to ensure that no insurgent finds his way into the rank of the police recruits.”
Kismayo has just got its 200 police officers. But eventually, there will be 600 trained and equipped, according to Brigadier General Annand Pillay, AMISOM Commissioner of Police.
The Kismayo police sector commander is also a Nigerian, Inspector Geo Hwange, formerly of the Abuja Command, who is in his sixth month in Kismayo.
“They people are very complicated to deal with,” he said. “I have to device several ways of dealing with them.”
His work included a lot of diplomacy, side-stepping and wisdom, as head of police in Kismayo. Hwange also had to deal with the weather, which is hot, humid and harsh with terrible wind sweeping sand into the eyes, nose and food. Living in Kismayo, it is impossible to escape the wind and the sand.
Suicide bombers will not make paradise, an Islamic scholar, Sheikh Habeebullahi Adam Abdullah Al-Ilory, said yesterday.
In his keynote address at the graduation of over 70 students of the Arabic and Islamic Training Institute (Markaz) in Agege, Al- Ilory said it was against the tenets of Islam to kill.
The institute’s rector said: “There is no paradise for suicide bombers. Our Prophet said ‘By Allah, he is not a believer! One whose neighbour does not feel safe from his evil.’ How can we now say a suicide bomber that killed his neighbours will enter paradise and marry beautiful unchaste ladies going by the statement of the Holy Prophet? It is high time we made known to whoever is contemplating suicide bombing that hell fire awaits such person besides other grievous punishment. Does it not amount to madness to say somebody who took the lives of the innocent ones will enter paradise? The Quran never said that and we should not misinterpret the message of the Quran.”
He warned the graduands to eschew extremism because it leads to terrorism, saying: “We have done our best to give you the knowledge that will make you to be the best in the larger community if well put into practise. It is now your turn to be good ambassadors of this institute.
“Remember, no teaching of our Holy Prophet allows you to treat your neighbour unjustly; Prophet Muhammad never encouraged shedding of innocent blood and Islam abhors it too. Do not because of money engage in acts akin to terrorism because we do not teach anything related to it here.
“Know that riches come from Allah; it is true that many scholars engage in fetish and evil deeds because of affluence – they want to ride the best cars, build mansions without good source of income – they are doom for Allah’s punishment.”
President-General of the Muslim Ummah of South West Nigeria (MUSWEN) Alhaji Sakariyahu Babalola, who chaired the event, urged the graduands to influence society positively, saying terrorism is alien to Islam.
“You can’t be a Muslim and engage in terrorist act. Where do you see such dastardly act in the Quran or teaching of the Holy Prophet? If Islam preaches good neighbourliness and a supposed Muslim went to attack his neighbour, has he not contradicted the teaching of Islam? Can we say that person is a Muslim?” he asked.
Babalola urged the three tiers of government to create jobs for the youth because an idle mind is the devil’s workshop.
“As a nation, we cannot afford the prize of allowing our youths to wander the streets jobless. The consequence is unimaginable,” he said.
Former minister of Mines and Steel Alhaji Sharafa Ishola said Islam has nothing to do with terrorism.
He urged the graduands to be good ambassadors of Islam.
• Nigeria must step up action against rampant piracy
The recent news that the Nigeria Customs Service (NCS) has confiscated pirated home videos and books worth N11.6 billion at Nigeria’s seaports since the beginning of the year only confirms its status as a pirates’ paradise. The seizures included textbooks for primary and secondary schools, novels, dictionaries and Bibles, and had been shipped in containers originating from China, India and other Asian nations.
Piracy refers to the unauthorised copying or manufacture of products for profit and includes broadcast piracy, optical disc piracy, as well as book and software piracy. While no country can be said to be totally immune from it, Nigeria has proved to be especially vulnerable to piracy.
The indigenous film production industry has been particularly hard-hit by its pernicious effects; film producers continually lament their inability to reap appropriate rewards from their labour, even when their works are resoundingly popular. The profusion of illegally-copied software in Nigerian markets is an open secret, and the prevalence of pirated books has long been a staple of the country’s dysfunctional education system.
The consequences for the country are profound. By some estimates, Nigeria loses N82 billion yearly to software piracy alone. As at 2007, an estimated N4.2 billion was being lost annually to illegal digital duplication, online piracy and unauthorised rental of home videos in the country.
These losses translate into declines in profitability, business failure and unemployment, as local firms struggle against an ever-increasing flood of cheap pirated products. Book piracy often results in reduced learning outcomes, since many of the texts are poorly printed, and are often full of errors.
A comprehensive response to the piracy problem must incorporate education, surveillance and effective sanction. Far too many Nigerians are unconcerned with piracy as an economic phenomenon; the relative cheapness of the pirated product actually makes it even more attractive to purchase. More needs to be done to inform the citizenry of the ethical and practical consequences of buying pirated goods. If more Nigerians were aware of the damage pirated software is capable of doing to expensive computers and associated equipment, they might be less eager to avail themselves of it.
Surveillance is vital in ensuring that imported pirated goods do not enter the country’s markets. The NCS appears to be doing a good job, given the increased value of its seizures over the years. The Nigeria Copyright Commission (NCC) has also stepped up its prosecution of offences relating to piracy and intellectual property theft. Both organisations must receive the funding that will enable them to improve on current performance.
In addition to prosecution, market closures might be an effective additional sanction in the anti-piracy war, especially as the country’s biggest markets for pirated products are only too well known. They include Alaba International Market, Computer Village, Ikeja; Ajegunle, Ojuelegba and Ijora in Lagos State; Ariara Market, Aba, Abia State; Ochanja Market, Electronic Market, and Upper Iweka Market in Onitsha, Anambra State.
The late Prof. Dora Akunyili utilised this tactic in her successful war on fake and expired drugs; there is no reason why the threat of market closures cannot be similarly successful in the campaign against pirated products.
The Federal Government would also do well to reconsider its cumulative 62.5 per cent tariff on imported books. While its ostensible aim of enhancing local book production is appreciated, the obvious drawback is that it makes the smuggling and importation of pirated books all the more profitable. If it is less expensive to import genuine books, it will be less lucrative to import pirated ones.
Nigeria has been too attractive to pirates for too long. It is time for the nation to send out the message that such desirability has come to a definite end.
Aiyetoro, a riverine community in Ilaje Local Government Area of Ondo State, teeters, on the brink of collapse due to oceanic surges that are constantly washing away their homes and hopes. Assistant Editor, SEUN AKIOYE, who visited the community, brings the second part of the tragic story of an angry people.
FOR at least 15 years, disaster has relentlessly pursued the people of Aiyetoro community in Ilaje Local Government Area, Ondo State. A deeply religious community, the trouble that is ravaging the community has been overwhelming and it has shaken the faith of the people to its very roots.
All over the community, signposts of destruction are in the form of destroyed houses, devastated neighborhoods and ruined lives. Many of the indigenes in fear for their lives have fled the community, while about 30,000 are hanging on clinging to a thin hope of a better future. Strangely, the source of the town’s anguish is natural: The Atlantic Ocean.
“That is where my father’s house is now; it used to be somewhere in this town but it is now far into the sea. The ocean took it away about five years ago,” Folorunso Ewaarawon said, pointing somewhere about 20 kilometres inside the sea.
Ewaarawon, an unemployed man, remembered the unfortunate day he lost his family’s possessions to the ocean, which bordered the community. His father had been ill and lay prostrate in the house, while some other members of the family were away.
“Suddenly the sea came and overran the town, we all rushed out carrying whatever belongings we could carry. It was a terrible day and at the end we lost our house, many other people also lost their homes,” he said. His was double tragic, the father died a few months after the incident, broken-hearted and dejected.
•Bishop Eretan in front of his ruined house
The ocean surges have been no respecter of persons or callings; the wave that washed away the house of Bishop Eremibo Eretan, the spiritual and political head of Aiyetoro, came suddenly and with fury. It was in June 2015 and it began with a slight rain, then a gush of strong wind blew accompanied by an angry tremor of the ground; they were quickly followed by water from the sea, which subsequently sacked the town.
Eretan and his family had only a few minutes to pack the most important of their life possessions. Like a tsunami, the sea overran several buildings, assisted by a ferocious wind which blew off roofs and a tremor, which sank the houses. By the time the wind settled, Eretan’s house and five others had been become a rubble.
Fish wealth, oil death
Located on the Atlantic coast, Aiyetoro was founded by a group of Ilaje “rebel” priests of the Cherubim and Seraphim Church in 1947. The founders were inhabitants of scattered Ilaje communities bordering the Atlantic Ocean to the West and Okitipupa to the East. In the days when the Ilaje killed their twins because they believed they were evil and for preaching against the practice, the priests were expelled from the community.
The priests, citing the leading of the Holy Spirit, moved to another location close to the Atlantic, founded Aiyetoro on the principles of justice, equity and communalism and ruled, according to them, by direct dictates from the God. They founded the Holy Apostles Church from where all political decisions were made and were binding.
The community flourished, partly because of the ingenuity and obstinate determination of the founders and also because of the political and social system which ensured equality and a sense of belonging for all the citizens. By 1960, according to public records, proceeds from fishing made Aiyetoro one of the richest rural community in West Africa.
In the 1970s, oil was discovered in commercial quantities in the waters of Aiyetoro and multinational oil companies descended on the town to drill its offshore oil. And that, according to Eretan, the burden bearer of the community, opened the floodgate of doom.
Living in Aiyetoro is a life on the edge. According to Eretan, a tall dark man with bloodshot eyes and loud voice who has assumed the leadership since the king, Guard Olofin Asogbon, died in February 2015, the closest house to the sea at the time was 350 metres, but what has been eroded from the community land is over 400 metres.
“Anytime there is high tide, the ocean will move into the town; it takes over about a quarter of this town and many houses are flooded including the church. In April, the church was flooded; it took days to clean it up and of course two months after that, I lost my house to the ocean,” he said.
Perhaps nothing epitomises the tragedy that has become the lot of Aiyetoro than the once imposing three-storey palace built at the center of the town. But the once magnificent palace has fallen on evil times. According to the people, the palace began to sink when a tremor was reportedly caused by an earthquake, which was triggered by oil exploration.
According to Eretan, “When the oil companies first came here in the 1970s to prospect for oil, they used some instrument to shoot into the bottom of the sea; it was that shooting that caused the sinking of our palace. I remembered that day, there was a great earthquake and then the building sank and it is still sinking today.”
A visit to the palace was convincing: the ground floor was already under the water such that when one looks at the building from afar, it tilts forward like the tower at Pisa. Yet, the family of the late king, having nowhere to go, remained in this dangerous building. A trip inside the palace revealed a most shocking spectacle; the water which sacked the first floor of the building had begun to climb gradually to the second floor. The family had wisely transported all their properties to the last floor but it was clear that the collapse of the palace is imminent.
Every child in Aiyetoro is aware of the imminent danger facing the community and life has not been the same. For the over 30,000 residents who have chosen to remain in the town, sorrow, tears and fear for the future rule their lives.
“We are confused and angry because every day, we see an inch of our land being taken over by the sea. Many years ago, we used to say that the sea cannot come near this place but now, a quarter of this town is in the ocean. Is this how we are going to wait till we all die?” Ewaarawon asked.
There is hardly any joy left in the town, all day and night, the angry sound of the ocean inflicted the people with fresh worries. In the past when the king was alive and the church functional, they would fill up into the church to implore the help of God against the Omolokun (god of the ocean). For the incredulous, this may sound superstitious but for Octogenarian Patricia Dadeowo, this is real.
“There is God in heaven,” she repeated for about the seventh time. “When the ocean first came to the town, we all prayed and fasted; even the children did not eat until noon. We went to the sea and called it by its name Otetebiete and God took control.” For effect, the children born in that year are named Olorunwa ( There is God).
A leadership tussle over who succeeds King Asogbon and a closedown of the church have brought double tragedy to the people. Prayers now hold in the town hall, while many of the young people are quickly losing faith. “There is power of God and we still believe it, but our sins are too many now; that is why miracles are not happening again,” Ewaarawon said.
•The remnant of Happy City School, the science laboratory, playground and other classrooms are now at sea.
In the absence of a miracle, the stark realities stare the people hard in the face. According to Benson Aribo, a graduate of the Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ago Iwoye, Ogun State, and secretary of the Youth Association, a large part of the secondary school (Happy City College) has been washed away by the ocean.
“Our playing field and science laboratory are now somewhere there in the ocean,” he said. The people tried to rebuild the school but their efforts were consistently thwarted by the rampaging sea. The great flood in April 2015, which swept through the community, took with it the new school building.
There is hardly any household which has not been negatively impacted by the surging ocean. Three years ago, the sea came calling for Taiwo Omoyele, bringing down his house and with it his hopes. “This town is a big one and it is not the sea that should send us out of here; no house is safe anymore because this place we are standing used to be the center of town,” he said.
Lawrence Abakpolor is a former marine engineer; he retired to Ayetoro in 1983 to pursue his passion for fishing. But that passion has since turned to pains as his house is next in line to the rampage of the ocean. Every evening, Abakpolor, who has also since retired from fishing “because it is no longer profitable,” would sit in front of his house and viewed the ocean, calculating how many more surges would bring down his home.
“Every two months, the sea pays us a visit in this town and when that visits ends, many houses in this town would have gone with it. Early in June when the sea came, my house was almost submerged and as you can see, there is nothing between my house and the sea now. We have put our faith in God and now we live in fear,” he said.
Ibrahim Bankole, one of the prominent youths of the town, said the ocean surge has affected the economy of the town causing poverty. “We had a generator which powered this town before but it has broken down. We asked each house to contribute N1,200 monthly but that is even too much for the people. There is nothing left now and to eat for many families is a hard thing.”
•Apostle Honmane
The economy of Aiyetoro was built on the fish business. But the prosperity experienced in the days of communalism is now history which the current generation can only read about in books. There is hardly any fish left to fuel economic prosperity for the people. Snr. Apostle Jackson Honmane is the secretary, Nigeria Agricultural Cooperative Organisation, Ondo State, and a master fisherman. “Before now, just go anywhere in the sea and you will catch big fishes, but now we have spillage of oil at least twice a year and with that, the fishes have moved away and what we get now is this.”
Very few fishermen remain these days. One of them is Oluwatunmise Omagbemi, a youth who usually leaves at 5:00 am and return 12 hours after with about three baskets of crayfish and tiny fishes. “I spent three gallons of fuel costing N12,000 and when I sell the crayfish, I will make about N20,000, when I deduct other costs, I have barely enough.”
An evening by the Aiyetoro beach revealed the peril constantly faced by these fishermen who still cling to the age-long trade. Youths like Omagbemi and Ohunayo would climb into their boats before dawn and row against the sea armed with a great fishing net, a small bucket to bail out the sea water from the boat- and a paddle.
The sea, which was not taking kindly to this, lifted up the boat tossing it around in a great wave; it beats unabated with magnificent rage slapping little boats and small trawlers around. One could see the fishermen holding on tightly to the sides of the boat.
One would think such a perilous venture would yield enormous profits. Not in the least, as after about 12 hours of rowing, they come up with a mean harvest consisting of a few tiny fishes, crabs and about two baskets of tiny crayfish.
At the northern edge of the beach, the waves pummelled Tobiloba Japhet, a youth of about 10 years. “I come here to fish every day; whatever I catch, we will eat at home,” he said. His fishing rope is long and the end is tied to a pole from the remnant of a house washed to sea. After about one hour, he was rewarded with a tiny fish at first and then a medium size fish. He smiled with pleasure, attributing his luck to the presence of the reporter. “Please stay a little with me so that your luck can rub off on me,” he said.
The once prosperous fishermen of Aiyetoro blamed their misfortune on the activities of the oil companies operating offshore. In the night, one could see big red flames rising to heaven from several oil rigs far in the ocean.
In the evenings, the former fishermen met to discuss and moan their losses at the “Made Easy Café”. But it seemed the more they met, the further they get to any solution. One of such gatherings was on August 2, 2015; as usual it was all talks and no solution.
“ The oil exploration is causing us serious troubles here; every time there is spillage, we lose our livelihood and the oil companies do not care. There is nowhere to berth now because the sea has taken over our shores. In 1947 (when the town was founded), it was not like this until the oil drillers came. They sank our palace and destroyed our lives. They are also the cause of the ocean surge in this community,” Lawrence Lemamu, the chairman of the Nigeria Union of Fishermen and Sea Food Dealers said.
Bishop Eretan agreed with Lemamu. He said since oil exploration began, their lives have been turned upside down. “The more they explore oil, the more we are in danger, we have not received any benefit from these oil companies,” he said.
In the absence of the fish, the only trade keeping the town alive is the crayfish business. All over the community, there are smoking houses where crayfish are smoked and dried waiting for customers from Onitsha, Port Harcourt and Lagos.
“We are facing this crayfish business because we cannot get normal fish anymore. Even now, the crayfish is very expensive because you have to go very far into the sea unlike before. We are suffering here; help us tell everybody what the sea is doing to us,” says Emily, a crayfish seller.
A white elephant project
Government’s intervention in the looming destruction of Aiyetoro began in 2004 when the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC) awarded a contract for the shoreline protection to a company (name withheld) and paid a mobilisation fee of N650 million.
However, though the people welcomed the project with bated relief, the company ended up disappointing the people as it abandoned the project soon after being paid to mobilise to site. The company’s engineers reportedly visited Aiyetoro purportedly for site inspection and left never to reappear again. Even now, the company has become a phoenix. All physical and online search for the company and its owner(s) ended in vain.
In 2006, NDDC re-awarded the contract to another company, Dredging Atlantic Limited (DAL), which is reputed for big-ticket contracts in the Ilaje area. DAL received a mobilisation of N2.5billion for the N6.5billion contract.
DAL moved to site had hardly settled down when excuses became the fare.
“They came up with the excuse that there is no sand in the area, but we told them that based on our own investigations that there is abundance of sand westward from Aiyetoro coast in Igbo Aiku and Araromi. We told the representatives of the company but they went to another place and claimed they did not have sand to do the work,” Dele Kudenhindu, the Principal Secretary of Aiyetoro told The Nation.
But the people had little faith that DAL can undertake the project of that magnitude.
“They used us,” said one of the youth executives who preferred to be anonymous. “This is not how to do shoreline protection, what they are doing showed that they have no idea about this job,” he said.
It may be hard to fault the logic in this statement. Nine years after the project was awarded and the contractor moved to site, there is absolutely nothing to show that N2.5billion had been spent and that DAL had done any work on the coastline.
Eretan and Kudehindu said the company had acted with the utmost disregard for the people of Aiyetoro. “Up till now, we have not set our eyes on the contractor nine years after he started working in our community. We had set up several meetings but he refused to show up. In a project of this magnitude, he ought to have carried along the community leaders. He just abandoned everything here,” Eretan said.
The young people are worst hit. With practically no economic opportunities for them, they had put their hopes on the completion of the project to usher in a period of prosperity and opportunities. “We were all just waiting for this project because the ocean is really threatening us. There is a lot of things we can do but when you are not sure what the future holds, you are limited,” Iretolu Ajinde, the chairman of the Youth Association, said.
This sentiment is shared by Prince Moses Ashogbon, son of the last king of the town. A graduate of Adekunle Ajasin University with a degree in Political Science, Ashogbon cut a pitiable sight when The Nation met him.
Since the death of his father, he had continued to live in the distressed three-storey building which served as royal palace. Everybody in Aiyetoro blames the oil companies namely Mobil, Chevron, Conoil and Agip for the tragedy that has befallen the building.
“We want to bring back those good days; now we have many of our indigenes who are educated and talented but no opportunity. If we try to bring back the industries that we lost, we are always afraid of the sea; that is why it is so painful that the contractor has abandoned the project,” Prince Ashogbon said.
When The Nation visited the community in June 2015, disused equipment were scattered all over the coastline. A pipe which was used to feed sand into some bags lay alongside two tractors sitting by two piles of sand.
For sometime, the construction workers have not been seen on sight, so the cows took over the machines.
This reporter could view about 30 tarpaulins filled with sand placed beside the sea. A tractor, Wilco 3200c and a caterpillar D 6H LGP Series 11, appeared abandoned. All over the site, cows could be seen pasturing and the smell of cow waste and urine was overpowering. Aribo said that was the only evidence of DAL’s shoreline protection in Aiyetoro.
But on a repeated visit to the community by The Nation on August 1, 2015, nothing remained of the sandbags that were visible just two months before as they had all been washed away by the storm. Also the community had lost almost five metres of land to the sea in just two months.
“Every year, we lose over 50 metres of our land to the sea and that is in the minimum. What we are afraid of is that in the next two years, if this situation continues, there may not be Aiyetoro again, we do not pray for such to happen,” Ajinde said.
“We want the government to save our land, we cannot go to the north or the south, the school is in the sea and we discover that the contractors cannot do this job. It was not this bad when they came, it was in their very presence that the situation degenerated to this. We know that their equipment are rotting away, this is beyond us, we are tired.”
Akinluwa Thompson, a marine engineer, believes that the contractors should have gone far into the ocean about four fathoms to dreg before sand filling. Ajinde shared this opinion: “ They should have gone at least 700 metres offshore but what they are doing is onshore. They don’t know what they are doing and they should just come out to say they are not capable,” he said with a feeling of deep frustration and anger creeping into his face.
For many years, DAL had always avoided media enquiry regarding the Aiyetoro project but The Nation was able to track down the company’s Public Relations Officer, Sola Oyeloye, who put all the blame on the NDDC and insisted that the company has not abandoned site.
“We have not been paid for a year because NDDC pays by milestone. We wanted to source sand from the Atlantic Ocean, which is 23 kilometres away, but NDDC did not have the money for that; it took us about two years to even get NDDC to come around because we had to review the contract which took a lot of time,” he said.
Oyeloye also said the company is employing the geosynthetic tube method of protection for Aiyetoro. “This method has never been used before in West Africa; it requires a lot of technique, the water master we are using there, we are the second company to own it. So the work is ongoing as I speak to you. We promised the king that we are going to finish the job and we will.”
However, Oyeloye was shocked to learn in June that the king had died in February, heart-broken over the impending disaster in his community.
The geosynthetic method of shore protection, according to the American Society of Civil Engineers, is “made of several geosynthetic sheets sewn together to form a shell capable of confining pressurised slurry. The slurry is sufficiently fluid so that it is possible to hydraulically fill the tube. After pumping the slurry in, the geosynthetic shell acts as a “cheese cloth,” allowing seepage of liquid out and retaining the solid particles.”
But many in Aiyetoro were quick to shoot down the method as employed by DAL. According to Bankole, there is nothing to suggest such a method would work in this instance. “ What they did was to sew sand in tarpaulin bags which were totally destroyed by the waves, all the bags burst open and the sand was lost. If you go to the shore right now, you will see the bags littering everywhere,” he said.
This reporter did and found sandbags violently torn apart by the waves indicating that again the project has failed.
DAL, girls, workers
The boat house where DAL workers live rocked gently on the lagoon at the entrance to Aiyetoro jetty. For many years, most of the indigenes have looked upon the workers with indifference; a few looked on them with envy. Among this group are the young, poor Aiyetoro girls.
With paralysing poverty, the girls saw the workers as the only means out of poverty, at least temporarily and threw themselves into their amorous demands.
Aside one or two incidents involving the local girls, the workers who are changed after two years have kept to themselves in their boat. The Nation correspondent went undercover inside the boat house and discovered a gripping tale of neglect.
There were about 11 workers in the boathouse living in squalor when The Nation got inside. According to the workers, the head office in Port Harcourt had abandoned them at the site. “Nothing is working in this boathouse; we don’t have a toilet, because the one here is bad. If you flush, the wastes go directly into our water system. By the way, our water tanks are bad too; so we cannot store clean water, what we use is rain water,” one of the workers who conducted the reporter around, said.
The bathroom water is leaking into the rooms and the house has no electricity as the two 1,000kva generators are no longer working. For their toilet, the workers had made a small demarcation using a rag by the generator where all such ‘dirty businesses’ are conducted directly into the river.
The kitchen is unusable; so the workers are engaged in the habit of cooking in their rooms. The floor of the boathouse is rust in various places and poses a serious danger, especially at night. “We have complained to the office but they never respond, they have abandoned us here totally. We are even lacking in equipment, nothing is working,” the workers said.
They also complained of falling ill constantly because of the breeze from the sea and with no money or medications, the workers are forced sometimes to be at the mercy of the community. “The community people laugh at us when we go to charge our phones there, saying we can’t even power our own house, it is such a shame,” they complained.
However, the workers said they still continue to do whatever they could to ensure that the project continues. “We were doing pipe laying yesterday (August 1, 2015) and tomorrow, we will start full dredging. I do not know when the work will finish but we are doing our best,” one who claimed to be the leader said.
The Nation also learnt that the contractor is already tired of the project which he considered a drain on his time and energy. “Director, as the workers call him, is tired of this place; he wants this job to finish quickly so we can move to another one. We are also tired, we have been here for one year and half and we are suffering,” another worker said.
The role of NDDC
But what is the position of the NDDC in the unfolding tragedy? How was the first company able to get away with a N650million mobilisation fee without turning a sand? Why does DAL still retain the contract after its almost nine years abysmal failure? Does the NDDC have an effective monitoring and evaluation team?
But the Resident Commissioner of NDDC in Ondo State, Barrister Benson Amuwa, told The Nation in an interview in his house in Igbokoda that the main problem of the shoreline protection was lack of sand.
“There is no need to be sentimental about the project, I am aware there is a problem of sand. When the company bided for the contract, they took it for granted that there would be sand in the ocean,” he said in an interview conducted in his residence.
He added: “If there is sand in the ocean, you will see it by the beach; they had a dredger but no sand. If they are going to get the sand, the extra cost has to be built in. Since I have been here, the commission has not mobilised any contractor. What we do is you work and the project and monitoring team comes to evaluate and then you are paid.”
Amuwa would not totally exonerate Dredging Atlantic. “Am I exonerating the contractor? No, he may be hiding behind one finger but we cannot deny the existence of that one finger. Aiyetoro is a historic community of great significance, we will not sit down and watch it come to an end,” he said.
From all indications, it seems Aiyetoro is coming to an end and the people try to make the best of whatever is remaining of their time on the island. Every night, aided by the flicker from the street lights, Broad Street comes to life, petty traders ply their wares on the road, music blares from loud speakers, boy meets girl. Not far away, the angry roar of the ocean could be heard.
Eretan sat in his new house and listened to the waves, a spiritual feeling took hold of him: “I know and believe that human technology can do it, but if they do not come to our aid, our God can help us, much more than humans,” he said in a defiant voice.
it is called the People’s Paradise and for good reason. Cross River has earned the status of being the most peaceful state in the country. Its capital, Calabar, has been referred to an acronym of Come And Live and Be At Rest. Crimes and vices that characterised other areas of the country were near absent in the Southsouth state. Even during elections when the pressure to keep the peace is stretched to its limit, the state still managed to come through unscathed from the violence that are found elsewhere.
This political season, however, things are no longer the same. With assassination attempts and kidnappings, it appears the halcyon days now belong to the past in the state, which prides itself as a destination in the West African sub-region. This is besides the rate of crime that has also escalated in the past few months. The peace, which has been sustained for so long, appears to have been broken.
The first sign that an ugly trend had come to characterise the political atmosphere in the state was when gunmen attacked the Speaker of the State House of Assembly in his house on Parliamentary Village Road in Calabar, late last year. The assailants jumped into his compound and fired shots at the house. A policeman was shot in the process. It was then strongly believed in political circles to be an assassination attempt. This was a strange development as far as the state was concerned and the police had dismissed it as a random armed robbery attempt. However, they were still strong reservations among the people over the incident. These reservations in the times that have followed that incident up to this moment, however, have proved not be unfounded as the situation has escalated. In February, there was a suspected assassination attempt on the life of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) candidate for the southern senatorial district of Cross River State, Mr Gershom Bassey.
Earlier this month, unknown gunmen again attacked the house of the Labour Party’s House of Representatives candidate for the Abi/Yakurr Federal Constituency, Dr Alex Egbuna, in Ekorinm, Calabar.
They were resisted by the security on guard and a policeman was shot and his rifle taken.
Only last Sunday, the LP candidate for the Calabar South/Akpabuyo/Bakassi Federal Constituency in the House of Representatives, Mr Dominic Edem, was atatcked in his Calabar home by unknown gunmen.
Up till the moment, his whereabouts remain unknown.
Again, at least three persons were reportedly killed and several injured in Ekori, Yakurr Local Government Area in a violent political clash.
LPchairman in the state, Mr Austine Ibok, decried the level of insecurity and the attacks he said were targeted at his party due to its growing popularity.
In an interview, the Special Adviser to the Governor on Media and Publicity, Mr. Christian Ita, dismissed the accusations againt the ruling PDP on the upsurge of violcnce as attempts at scoring cheap political points.
The Inter Party Advisory Council (IPAC) in the state has condemned the development, especially the kidnapping. The council’s chairman, Mr Goddie Akpama, said: “IPAC condemns in totality, the kidnapping of illustrious son of Cross River. And the government has not done anything about it. We had earlier called the government to order on the issue of non-internal democracy in PDP, which caused problems. We were condemned for that. But today we are vindicated because the problems it has created has become worse.”
While the accusations and counter accusations continue, residents live in palpable fear. Already there are indications that the situation could increase the level of voter apathy during the elections, as many residents said they would rather stay home on Election Day than risk their lives at polling units.
All the people want now is that the peace of the state, which appears to be yielding to the pressure of politics, be regained and sustained.
This paradise should not be lost so that there will be no need for expending energy regaining it in the future. The madness should stop now. Yes, right now.
Then, abruptly, he flung me against the wall and I slid to the floor. I must have fainted for when I woke up, I found myself on a hospital bed. A nurse, who was standing by the bed, looked relieved on seeing me awake.
“Thank God, you have regained consciousness. We have been so worried about you. Let me get the doctor,” she stated, before hurrying out of the room.
It was from the doctor I heard the horrible news, that my baby, who had arrived prematurely had died.
“We kept him in an incubator since he was premature but it was no use. He lived for just a few hours,” he said in a sad tone. I turned my face to the wall, hot tears steaming down my face, feeling too drained and weak to even cry out.
Just then, some of my family members came into the room, their expressions shifting from looks of joy at my regaining consciousness and sadness at my baby’s death. My Dad, stepmother and my brother Mike stood round the bed, looking down at me.
“I’m so glad you are back with us, my daughter. You are very precious to me and I can’t afford to lose you,” said my Dad as he took my hand in his. He looked grim when I quietly narrated what had happened with my husband that had led to my being hospitalized.
“I know it’s painful to lose your baby but though the water might have spilt, the vessel is still intact; it’s not broken. As for that husband of yours, just leave him to me. I know what to do to him. Don’t worry about him. Your health is what matters now. So, focus on getting better and everything will be alright,” he reassured me. ”
But will it, I thought glumly after they had gone to see the doctor. Will things ever be the same again between Kel and I after what had happened. I shuddered, remembering the fight at home, the crazy look in his eyes as he held my throat so tightly. What if he had strangled me to death that night? It was a miracle that I was alive but that fact brought me little joy. All I could think about was losing my baby and I blamed Kel for that.
I heard he had been coming to the hospital all the time I was unconscious and had been so worried about me. But I did not care; I did not want to see him and I told the nurses attending to me not to allow him near my room.
Later, I fell into a deep sleep and woke up to the sound of loud voices outside the door of my room. I could make out my husband, Kel’s voice among them. He was telling the nurses to allow him in to see me as it was his right as my husband.
“She’s my wife! You can’t stop me from seeing her! What kind of crazy hospital is this? I will definitely let the CMD hear about this!” he threatened.
“Sir, we are just following instructions. It’s better you go back and return when she’s in a better frame of mind,” the nurse told him but he was not ready to budge. Though still feeling weak and with pains, I managed to get out of the bed and made for the door. I stood there silently for a while watching the argument between Kel and the nurses.
“What have you come to do now? Finish the ‘work’ you started at home?” I queried, my voice seeping with anger.
They all turned to me then.
“Ah, baby, how are you feeling now? Are you alright?” he asked, a worried look on his face. One of the nurses bustled up to me and stated firmly:
“Madam, you are not strong enough to be walking around yet. Go back to bed. It’s time to take your drugs. Lie down and Nurse Mary will attend to you.”
“Just tell him to stay away from me. I don’t want to see him,” I said as I laid on the bed.
***
About a week later, I was discharged from the hospital. Instead of heading home however, Mike drove me down to our parents’ house. I did not want to go home, at least not yet. I needed space and time to recover fully both physically and mentally, before seeing my husband again. I was to remain there for the next three months despite Kel’s pleading for forgiveness and for me to return home.
He also sent his relatives to plead with my Dad and I. My father who was really angry with Kel at his behaviour, was even more against my going back to my husband, stating that if he had killed me that night of the fight, ‘would they be here begging for me to return to him?’
“I gave my daughter to your son to love and care for her, not kill her for me. I lost her mother to illness some years ago. I don’t want anything to happen to her. So, warn your son! He should learn to control his temper as a man,” he told them.
After some time though, my Dad relented. By then, my anger with my husband had subsided and I was ready for a reconciliation. Truth is, I loved my husband very much and I was ready to work on my marriage to make it succeed.
On the eve of departure for my marital home, my Dad had a long talk with me.
“My dear daughter, as you are going back to your husband, I want you to put what has happened behind you and forge on. Marriage is not a bed of roses; anyone that says otherwise is simply lying. It’s full of challenges, you just have to learn to weather them. Be patient with your husband and do not provoke him to anger that might result in violence like what happened the last time. Your husband has shown enough remorse and I believe there won’t be a repeat of the last incident. Be a good and loving wife to him and he will cherish you,” my father advised.
***
Soon, I returned home and life went on as usual. The only difference was Kel, who now treated me so carefully like an egg that could break if handled roughly. He later confessed that he thought he was going to lose me when I was lying unconscious in the hospital.
“I couldn’t sleep for days or eat. I prayed like I had never done in my life. I was so scared you might die,” he stated.
“As you can see, I’m still alive and well,” I said, smiling.
He laughed then made a solemn promise never to lay a finger on me again.
“Never again, darling. I promise never to hit you or cause you pain,” he said before drawing me close and kissing me passionately.
That promise lasted exactly six months. Then it was back to the old Kel. He would slap or hit me whenever we had any argument. With time, he grew more controlling and dictated what I could and not do.
I work in a government parastatal and I usually closed from work officially around 5 o’clock. But sometimes, extra work would keep me in the office an hour later. I was home late on such days and it was a bone of contention between us.
“Why can’t you be home early like other civil servants? What do you do in that office after closing? Or are you having an affair? Are you now cheating on me? Answer me!” he demanded angrily one evening on getting home later than him.
“Kel, how can you say that? You know I will never do that! It was the traffic that made me late,” I explained. But he was still furious and kept on talking about what he termed ‘these so called sophisticated career city women who run around with other men and cheat on their husbands.’
“If I ever catch you having an affair behind my back, I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” he warned. I kept my cool and did not say a word further to maintain the peace.
The other woman…
Then, I got pregnant again and this time, I was determined to keep this baby. Kel was happy at the news though later, that changed to anger when I stopped sleeping with him. I had taken the decision to keep my pregnancy safe, to avoid another miscarriage.
“You do this all the time, denying me my rights! Of what use are you to me, anyway? Or your family? You and your crazy family are completely useless!” he raved. I ignored him and went to sleep in the spare room to avoid a quarrel and possibly another beating.
He did not bother me about the issue for sometime and I thought he had agreed with me to cool off from sex for a while.
Unknown to me, he had other plans. I came home one Saturday evening from a visit to my friend Trina to see my husband laughing and talking with a lady in the sitting room. I had never seen her before and wondered who she was.
“Oh, here you are dear. This is Clarissa, a very good friend of mine. We knew each other back in the States; she’s in the country for a visit and she will be staying with us for a while,” he stated. I greeted her then turned to my husband and motioned for him to follow me to our bedroom.
“Kel, what is the meaning of this? How can you just bring a guest home without informing me about it?” I queried sharply.
“So, now I have to take permission from you before inviting my friends home?” he countered.
“That’s not what I mean. You should have told me she was coming maybe yesterday so I can make preparations. It’s wrong for you to simply bring her home without telling me, your wife beforehand,” I replied.
“Thank God you know your place, that you are my wife and not my mother. You have no right to question me about this issue. Instead of standing there babbling, go and get the guest room ready. She’s tired after the journey and she needs to rest,” he ordered. I was ready to argue with him on the matter but remembered my father’s words just in time and decided to keep my cool for the sake of peace.
That was how Clarissa came into our lives. She brought with her a new set of problems to add to the ones I was already battling with. She was the lazy type who did no house chores and expected to be served everything. Even in my condition, she never offered to help with the cleaning, cooking and other chores around the house but left everything to me. All she did all day was paint her nails and face, style her long weave and wear all kinds of skimpy and provocative clothes both at home and while going out. Then, there was her drinking and smoking habits which I found particularly irritating.
Kel did not see anything wrong with her smoking in the house and told me to stop complaining about it.
“Stop whining, woman! She’s our guest. Learn to live with her, bad habits and all,” he said.
I endured, praying she would leave us soon. Then, two weeks after her unexpected arrival, I came home early from work one day as I had a bad headache. The front door was unlocked and as I stepped into the house, I could hear sounds like loud moans from the direction of our bedroom.
I opened the door and…
To be continued
Don’t miss the concluding part of Jessica’s tale next Saturday
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Names have been changed to protect the identity of Jessica, her husband and other individuals in the story
