My Boko Haram experience

 One early morning in the summer of 2013, precisely on August 18, 2013, I was called to the office for an emergency meeting. When I got to our Maiduguri office, I met a detachment of military personnel, led by one Colonel Emenka. He was strategically stationed. Mixed feelings about the mission of the hard-looking soldiers […]

 One early morning in the summer of 2013, precisely on August 18, 2013, I was called to the office for an emergency meeting. When I got to our Maiduguri office, I met a detachment of military personnel, led by one Colonel Emenka. He was strategically stationed.

Mixed feelings about the mission of the hard-looking soldiers crept into my mind. The soldiers and our security staff members were wet as a result of the rain, yet they waited for us. I was the manager in charge of operations in the Daily Trust office during the period, and the visitors had asked to see me for immediate evacuation to safety. They said they had intercepted a line of communication from the Boko Haram insurgents on plans to slaughter some staff members of Daily Trust. Specifically, my name, Aminu Ado and Auwalu Muhammad and two other colleagues were mentioned as targets. Without wasting what seemed to be our last minutes on earth, we packed our belongings and left.

As we packed our bags to leave for Kaduna, another call came, saying we should not run as they had withdrawn their threat to slaughter us. I expressed my helplessness to our bureau chief and told him that I would not return to Maiduguri even if Shekau himself assured me of safety.

When the management of my company asked if I would like to be transferred to Maiduguri at the height of the insurgency, my answer was spontaneous. I had been transferred to four other places before then and I had developed the habit of accepting my destiny.

On my way to Maiduguri few days after the transfer, signs of what I would experience started manifesting as military checkpoints were nearly everywhere. My first few days were spent in a hotel before I finally got an accommodation along Damboa road. And I began my life in Maiduguri, which was to last for two years.

 ‘Yobe could have been killed’

Having started work in Maiduguri, I would pass multiple checkpoints before getting to our office on Baga road. It was a rented one-room office close to the MTN office. We relocated to our main office on the same street, few months after my arrival. Baga road was the most notoriously unsafe in Maiduguri metropolis. It was the most attacked.

Almost everyday, the stern-looking and very unfriendly soldiers at the checkpoints would harass motorists. On one occasion, while we were returning home, we missed the soldiers’ signal to stop. As we drove to negotiate a bend, they shouted at us, threatening to shoot. We disembarked and raised our hands. We were afraid of the inevitable. Luckily for us, the most senior officer among them approached us, demanding to know our identities. We quickly obliged him. He warned that they would have killed us and claim we were Boko Haram terrorists who attempted to attack them, and nothing would have happened. Shivering, we thanked him and promised to behave well next time.

Such encounters became a tradition everyday as we drove from the office to home and vice versa. Overtime, we came to live with these harassments as we navigated the highly patrolled streets of Maiduguri. We realised that the best mode of dressing in such a situation was European. We adopted that mode of dressing as quickly as we could as wearing kaftans and traditional dresses was an invitation to harassment.

The enemy within

 I was in the office one day when our security staff informed me that some men came looking for our bureau chief, Malam Hamza Idris. They told me that they saw an AK–47 rifle tucked under their flowing kaftans. I looked through the windows and saw the men with their white flowing gowns. Terrified, I asked the security man to inform them that Idris was not in the office. They left a message. It was a recorded video that contained a statement for publication. Everyone was so terrified that we all left very early that day.

My second encounter was in Old Maiduguri, now called Madina. That is where the famous Maideribe House is. We lost our way after a gun battle between the Boko Haram insurgents and the military, near the University of Maiduguri. In an attempt to escape the mayhem, we found ourselves at the centre of Madina. Two of us were in t-shirts, only one was in traditional wear.

Unfortunately for us, our car broke down. As we came out to find out the problem, we were accosted by angry youths who demand to know where we came from. Within minutes, we realised that we had entered the lions’ den. Terrified again, we explained how we came there. As fate would have it, two matured men approached us when they heard our fluent Hausa accent. Their intervention saved us as they volunteered to show us the way that linked us to our escape route.

The third encounter was few weeks before we were evacuated from the office by the military. I called a meeting to discuss a narrow escape by one of our staff members, Aminu Nasiru. He was our store officer and lived in Pompomari. We lived there also. His close friend who, unknown to him, was a Boko Haram terrorist, was apprehended by the security agents. A list of those to be executed was found on him, and Nasiru’s name was among. As we began our meeting, our bureau chief called and informed us that he received a call from a Boko Haram commander that we were meeting and discussing them.

He advised us to disperse as all our movements and discussions were known to the insurgents. I could not disclose this to them as I guessed that the informant must be amongst us. The most terrible call from our bureau chief was to inform us that he received another call that we decided to stop the meeting and were planning to leave for our respective homes. That information erased any hope of surviving. We thought that day was the end of our lives. But we mustered courage and continued with our plans to close the office and go home.

That afternoon, I left for Kaduna, though with the fear that even my Kaduna home was no more safe for me. But I resolved that it was better to die at home than in Maiduguri.

The faces of danger

 In June 2013, almost all factories, markets, mechanic workshops and other businesses close to our office were closed down by the military due to the notoriety of Baga road and it’s proneness to frequent attacks. Daily Trust office was standing alone and the military set up a checkpoint right at the entrance of our office. A detention centre was also set up behind our office. So we became sandwiched between a military checkpoint and a Boko Haram cells.

One day, in the evening, riot broke out in the camp and sporadic gunshots pervaded the entire office as bullet shells kept hitting parts of our building. We were forced to lie flat as precaution against stray bullets. Soon, some insurgents who escaped scaled through our fence and came into the compound.

After a while, we left in haste, leaving the escapees who took refuge in our office. The relocation of the military detention centre behind our office became an albatross to our operation and security as soldiers sometimes beat, slap and harass members of our staff despite our generosity to them – we supplied them electricity from our generator and free complimentary copies.

Although we complained, the harassment did not stop nor was the camp relocated. We decided to withdraw our electricity and the complimentary copies. Prior to my unexpected return to Maiduguri, the notorious Boko Haram commander, Abu Qaqa, assured our bureau chief of our safety.

Our driver, Babagana, was asked to take our Indian technician, Mr. Bathia, for dinner. Unknown to us, Babagana was not himself that day. I later learnt that he was into drugs. At Halima Restaurant, he fell asleep, and for two hours he could not wake up. Mr. Bathia was stranded, so he called to inform me about the situation. I drove from my house and picked Mr. Bathia after battling to wake Babagana.

Five minutes after we left, on the same spot, a bomb went off and killed many people. It was another ugly experience. It is, however, important to note that life in Maiduguri was not all about bitter experiences; there were beautiful moments. We took time off to enjoy grilled fish and kunun gyada. The ever busy zoo also provided a memorable experience.

 

Editor’s note: Readers with compelling stories of their Boko Haram experience can send to sundaytrust@yahoo. com. The stories should not be more than 1,500 words.