Chibok protest or ‘busybodies’ at work?

I argued that in the north, the dominant conspiracy theory was that Jonathan was sponsoring Boko Haram either to make Islam look bad or to depopulate the north ahead of 2015 while in the South and among the supporters of the President, the passionate belief was (is?) that Boko Haram was created by Northern elites […]

I argued that in the north, the dominant conspiracy theory was that Jonathan was sponsoring Boko Haram either to make Islam look bad or to depopulate the north ahead of 2015 while in the South and among the supporters of the President, the passionate belief was (is?) that Boko Haram was created by Northern elites to undermine the presidency of President Jonathan.  I argued that with these divergent explanations of the Boko Haram challenge, it was difficult to mobilize collective anger and action against the sect. I opined that because of the above President Jonathan and his loyalists probably did not believe there was any abduction until global attention focused on the girls and convinced everyone that they were indeed kidnapped. I also underlined that there were so many gaps in the initial abduction story that many people were really confused, giving conspiracy theorists a field day.
The #BringOurGirlsBack campaigners played a critical role in galvanizing the attention of the world on the fate of the abducted girls, with several countries, including USA, France, China, Britain offering various forms of military and technical assistance, which the Nigerian government accepted. Many people are obviously frustrated that weeks after the hype surrounding the arrival of foreign military and technical advisers to locate the Chibok girls with their assumed sophisticated technology for gathering intelligence, the girls have still not been released.
Though whatever the government is doing to release the girls remains shrouded in secrecy (they can always rationalize this on security concerns for the girls), I think it will be uncharitable to believe that all the foreign technical advisers that reportedly arrived in the country to help in the search for the girls are merely here to drink coffee and tea.  In other words, the government and these foreign ‘partners’ must be doing something.  It is highly unlikely, in my opinion, that the government which received deserved piss for its initial inertia on the matter would have so quickly abandoned efforts to locate the girls
For the above reasons, while I can understand the need for the #BringOurGirlsBack social media campaigners not to relent in their efforts so that the Chibok girls will not be pushed off media headlines, I fail to understand the continued relevance of street protests on the matter, especially by the affluent in Abuja. Are the protests meant to force the government’s hand into a commando-style rescue action – something most people have counselled against to ensure the girls do not come into harm’s way?
While I respect the right of people in a democracy to a peaceful assembly – I believe that banning such protests would be abridging our democratic space – it would seem to me that a more practical way of showing GENUINE concerns now would be to contribute in re-building Chibok or reaching out to the parents of the abducted girls to offer moral and material support. There are many people in Chibok and other parts of north-east who have lost their means of livelihood or have been rendered homeless. Such people need support. There are also communities and groups that are reportedly taking the fight to Boko Haram. Such communities too will appreciate any form of logistic, moral and material support.  
Since most of the Abuja protesters seem rather well-heeled, they must convince us that they are not merely busy bodies or opportunists trying to cash in on the sad fate that befell the Chibok girls to seek for relevance or hug the limelight. Talk is cheap. As the American playwright Charles Fuller would tell us: “To spend one’s life being angry, and in the process doing nothing to change it, is to me ridiculous. I could be mad all day long, but if I’m not doing a damn thing, what difference does it make?”

Wasila Umar is no heroine
In April, 2014, Nigerians were hit by news of a 14-year old Kano girl, Wasila Umar, who poisoned her 35-year old husband, Umar Sani, and three of his friends to death by putting rodenticide  (popularly known as ‘otapiapia’) in their meal.
On why she poisoned her husband, Wasila claimed, according to reports, that she did not love Umar Sani, who owned a provision store in their village and was a also a successful farmer. She reportedly hated the idea of being forced to marry Umar Sani against her will so after their wedding she started thinking of what to do to get out of the marriage.  She finally settled on getting a rat poison, which she reportedly bought in the local market for N80.  When she got home, according to the story, she hid the poison, bidding her time for the right moment. So when the opportunity presented itself, she sprayed the man’s food with the poison when no one was looking. And in a village where people would often share food, thirteen others reportedly partook in eating the food. Three died, including her husband.
Wasila reportedly claimed she did not mean to kill her husband but only wanted to show him she did not love him so he would be forced to divorce her. She was said to have confessed of the poisoning when the police were called in following the deaths and complaints of stomach ache by those who ate the food.
Wasila was detained in various centres before she was charged to a magistrate court in Kano. Understandably her case attracted the attention of human rights activists, including the Federation of Women Lawyers in Nigeria which reportedly practically took over her upkeep and defence.
I support the effort of human rights activists in ensuring that Wasila’s case was transferred to a juvenile court. But I strongly disagree with any effort to cast her as a victim or worse still as a sort of heroine for killing her husband as a form of resistance to child and forced marriage.  In my opinion, Wasila, is both a victim and a villain. It is wrong to glamorize murder under any headline.    
The way I see it, there are two issues at stake here – child marriage and murder. Though from stories my late mother told me when she was alive, she must have been married at any age between 13 and 15, I am passionately opposed to child marriage (it probably would not be otherwise for someone who lived for 23 years in Europe). But it is important to separate the issue of child or forced marriage from the very depraved act she was said to have committed.
If the reports of the events were correct, then Wasila’s action appeared premeditated to me – she went to market, bought the rodenticide, hid it for days, bade her time and sprayed the poison on her husband’s food when no one was looking.
While the human rights community performs very important functions in any democracy, efforts must also be made in some of their campaigns not send the wrong message to others – in this case that it is acceptable to commit murder as a form of resisting actions we do not condone.
For the above reason, I am against any move to turn Wasila into a heroine of any sorts because she is not. She might have felt terribly wronged for being married out as a child – and worse still against her will – as she claimed, but who taught a 14-year old girl that rodenticide could be used as poison?  Are there no better ways for a 14-year-old to show her displeasure at being forced into an early marriage? I do not buy her explanation that she did not intend to kill her husband but only wanted to show him that she did not love him so he divorce her.  How exactly was putting rat poison into the man’s food meant to achieve that?  If she could go to the market unhindered to buy the ‘otapiapia’, does it not mean she had relative freedom to run way from her husband?  It is rather worrying to me that there has not been equal condemnation that a child Wasila’s age could be capable of plotting the alleged evil.
I agree that in a way Wasila is a victim of a society which denied her education and failed to do something about the poverty of her parents – conditions that obviously predisposed her to the sort of unacceptable action she was alleged to have taken. But there are several other child-brides who have adopted other forms of resistance without shedding blood.  
Wasila’s alleged action may have rightly focused attention on child and forced marriages. But we will miss the point if we also fail to strongly communicate in the Wasila Umar story that spilling of blood is an unacceptable way of making any point. I find it repugnant that while most of the stories dwelt on how much Wasila missed her mum, not one report I read said anything about her showing any remorse for spilling blood.