Fragile seeds of hope

Within Nigeria, terrorist attacks have not paused during the month of Ramadan. The bad news is overwhelming. It is hard to keep track of. Among the recent attacks have been those on the Maiduguri palace of the Shehu of Borno; the Emir of Fika outside the main mosque in Potiskum, Yobe; the home of the […]

Within Nigeria, terrorist attacks have not paused during the month of Ramadan. The bad news is overwhelming. It is hard to keep track of. Among the recent attacks have been those on the Maiduguri palace of the Shehu of Borno; the Emir of Fika outside the main mosque in Potiskum, Yobe; the home of the Vice President in Zaria; locations in the caliphate city of Sokoto, as well as in Kano and Kaduna; and a Deeper Life Church in Okene, Kogi State. The leader of the Niger Delta People’s Volunteer Force threatens war. Governments contribute their own portion of grief. The Lagos government demolishes the impoverished Makoko community that some claim is centuries old, displacing over 60,000 people with only 72 hours warning. While not as drastic, actions taken in Plateau state and Kano state are also worrisome, as the Plateau state government recently enforced a ban on motorcycles and the state special task force continues to demolish shops housed in “temporary structures” in Jos; in Kano, the state hisbah have banned courtship during the night hours and have begun to arrest those Muslims they claim are not fasting.

Yet hidden beneath all the tragic and anxiety-inducing news items, there are seeds of hope. I have recently been encouraged by stories of religious leaders determinedly exhorting their followers to reclaim peace. Filmmaker Sani Mu’azu told me that following the catastrophic floods in Jos, the Church of Christ in Nigeria (COCIN) general secretary, Obed Dashan, on 27 July,  led a delegation to the Jos Central Mosque, where the church donated food, relief items and a cash gift. According to Daily Trust and last week’s Weekly Trust, the Catholic Archbishop of Jos, Ignatius Ayau Kaigama also visited the same mosque and displaced persons camps on 2nd August. He donated relief materials, saying, “We have come also to share in the tragedy that affected our brothers and sisters, mostly of the Islamic faith, due to the flood.” Addressing previous crises in Jos, he called for “a new patriotism, a new neighbourliness and a new way of looking at ourselves, children of God rather than merely northerners, southerners, Muslims or Christians who treat each other with great contempt.” Imam of the mosque Sheikh Balarabe Dawud responded in kind, recalling how the Prophet of Islam sought refuge in Christian lands, saying, “Living together in peace with Christians is not a new thing to Islam […] We should also not sit down and allow some people to be killing other people. We should do all we can to stop that either by preaching or practical. Whatever reason one may have, it would not justify the killing of other people.”

Christian leaders have also been breaking fast with Muslim leaders during Ramadan. Weekly Trust reported that the Catholic Archbishop of Abuja, Rev. John Onaiyekan, along with other Catholic clergy, on the invitation of Imam Fuad Adeyemi, visited the Al-Habibiyya Mosque at Guzape district Abuja on 23 July, where they broke fast with Muslims. Daily Trust reports that on 29 July, Alhaji Yahaya Musa Muhammad, chairman of the Abaji Area Council, held an iftar, which both Christians and Muslims attended, including Chief Imam of the town, Ustaz Bala Usman, and the Chairman of the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), Pastor Paul Luka. Beyond Abuja, Leadership reports that the Christian-Muslim Youth Peace Initiative of Nigeria led by Dr Suleiman Shuabu Shinkafi, chairman of the Muslim youth division, and Obadiah Dijji Haruna, CAN youth wing president, organized a Christian-Muslim iftar at the Sultan Bello Mosque in Kaduna on 21 July.  In Jos, on 2 August, I attended an iftar prepared by the Young Ambassadors for Community Peace and Interfaith Foundation (YACPIF). After a few speeches by Muslim community leaders explaining the meaning of Ramadan and the benefits of fasting, young Christian and Muslim volunteers served dates and other fruit, koko and kosai to a room of about one hundred Christian and Muslim youth. After the Muslims returned from praying, everyone was served rice and fish and certificates were presented to youth who had completed a free computer course offered by YACPIF. A new YACPIF internet café was formally opened.

I have heard many more stories that extend beyond formal visits organized by NGOs and religious leaders—stories of individual Muslims sharing the bounties of their Ramadan breakfasts with Christian neighbors, and Christian neighbors offering love and care for Muslims they see in need.

While the big picture looks desperate, our hope is in the small things, these friendships being regrown, these little acts of kindness. Most people, at least those who live through conflict and threats of attack day after day, want peace. People are tired. We don’t want bombs and shootings.  Despite the hatred that simmers and often bursts out, there seems to be a growing desire on both sides to reach out to the other.

We cannot under-estimate the dire threats to Nigerian unity. It is now as bad as it has been since the late 60s. Terrorism is a blight not easily healed, even if the ordinary people are at peace. But if positive change is to come, it will come in this way: from the grassroots, spreading out from the centre. It will come with the determination of people who refuse to fight those whose lives are ultimately so much like theirs, who refuse to harbor the violent in their midst, who insist on justice and the accountability of elected officials, who choose to love rather than hate.

I think of the news out of Gao, Mali, reported by AFP—how citizens filled the square and refused to allow Movement for Oneness and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO) to amputate the hand of a young recruit they accused of theft—how a resident told AFP: ““We don’t want to know what this young man did, but they are not going to cut his hand off in front of us.” I wonder what the result of this small uprising will be.

I think of the Fuel subsidy protests and the #Occupy Nigeria protests that started out the year 2012—how people physically shut down the country for a week as they came together for a common cause.  I wonder if we will ever again see such an impassioned movement for justice and accountability in Nigeria.

I think of Sheikh Ahmad Mahmud Gumi’s assertion in Kaduna that “If we work together, Nigeria would be the most suitable place on earth to live.”

I wonder if I will ever see that—see these tiny seeds of hope push up through the darkness and emerge fragile into the light.