Dana Air crash victims: The emptiness of an empty tomb
Not particularly fond of official functions, and certainly not looking forward to sitting and listening to President Jonathan or any of his ministers praising themselves for the “great” works they are doing, I still wanted to attend if only to show our appreciation for the national warmth and symbolism in memory of our Inna Kaltum, […]
Not particularly fond of official functions, and certainly not looking forward to sitting and listening to President Jonathan or any of his ministers praising themselves for the “great” works they are doing, I still wanted to attend if only to show our appreciation for the national warmth and symbolism in memory of our Inna Kaltum, her friend Farida Kaikai, her cousin Falmata Kur Mohammed, and all the others. It is not every day that our rulers think beyond the Benjamins.
A cenotaph (literally: empty tomb) is a structure or monument built to honour people whose remains are interred elsewhere or cannot be recovered. It seemed particularly fitting for this particular tragedy because some of the bodies were never found or were burnt beyond recognition. Even if it meant surviving through several hours of official praise singing and half-felt sympathies, I braced myself to sit it out at the unveiling.
Well, it did not quite work out that way. Ajus (daughter number four) and I got to the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, venue of the unveiling ceremony, but could not even get to the parking lot and had to leave after driving around for over an hour, in addition to being harassed by several over-zealous uniformed-men. We decided to read about it in the papers.
And a very good decision it turned out to be. With our official disdain for time and their love for protocol the unveiling was hours late. It was a typical government event; poorly organised and empty of everything but cameras and sirens. An unapologetic media event from the coverage I saw that day and the following morning. Yet even the media could not ignore some glaringly surprising goofs, nor failed to raise some questions.
To begin with, these incompetent officials could not even bother to spell some of the victims’ names correctly. For example, Farida Kaikai became Farida KAIKA. Others were missed out completely. Even the criteria as to who to include was never fully worked out and thus those who died because the plane landed on them in Iju-Ishaja, Lagos, were not listed. Yet these officials had one year to compile a proper list.
On a more serious note however, why should we take this governmental tear-shedding seriously when we are yet to know the official findings regarding the actual cause(s) of the crash? Why was the Ministry of Aviation too eager to get Dana Air flying again soon after the crash yet appears unable or unwilling to get them to settle their legal obligations to the victims, both in and out of the aircraft? Indeed Dana appears contemptuous of those that died on the ground as if they too were not really victims. Not that any amount of compensation can ever replace those we lost but especially those that lost parents and bread winners?
Come to think of it: why only Dana? If we are truly having a moment of solemn reflection of the Dana June 13 calamity then why not also take some time to collectively reflect on the others as well? As one Achilleus-Chud Uchegbu from Wuse, Abuja so aptly remarked:
What exactly do we celebrate or remember with those cenotaphs if not the fact that the incompetence, greed and inefficiency of our regulatory systems caused the Dana crash and claimed those lives? … Let us remember too that Bellview plane crashed some years back and till date no one has seen a report of the investigation into that crash. Also, an aircraft belonging to Sosoliso crashed in Port Harcourt in 2005 with pupils of Loyola College, Abuja, returning for holidays as part of the victims. Similarly, an ADC plane crashed and killed even a serving Sultan. In all these crashes, which are no less tragic, no cenotaph was erected by the government in honour of the victims.
If we must erect monuments to the memories of all those who lost their lives to greed, corruption and regulatory ineptitude we should really try to rebuild the institutions that control and regulate air travel. We should ensure that safety is always paramount. If these crashes help to expose the weaknesses of our aviation industry and subsequently lead to policies and institutions that would ensure air travel safety thenperhaps we can begin to feel that all these deaths have not been in vain.
Secondly, if crashes and disasters happen, as they are bound to from time to time we must institute truly independent panels of inquiry and try to learn from our misfortunes so that the same (or similar) mistakes are not repeated. Up till now the true cause of the disaster is out there somewhere.
Thirdly, the Minister of Aviation has to show that she is there to serve the public and not to protect and shield Dana and other operators. The rush to get them flying again was unfortunate. Her explanation –that accidents happen everywhere-was most insulting. There is something empty about this cenotaph and it is not just of remains. It smacks of an emptiness of seriousness, of empathy and of imagination.
However, it had not been all tombs or monuments. Our biggest gift came physically days earlier when Ahmed and Hajjo named our second grand-child Inna Kaltum. (And, Nana, don’t be annoyed: you are still number one.) May Allah continue to guide, protect and provide for all of us victims of this vicious system. May the souls of Inna Kaltum, Farida, Falmata and all the others, who have gone ahead, rest in perfect peace. Amin.