Nigeria Wasn’t Built in A Day
VAGUE Nigeria speaks to Mo about the End SARS protests, one year on…
October is a special month for the country that gave birth to the parents that birthed me. Back in 1960, Nigeria’s constitution was given to Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, the then newly-instated prime minister on the first day of October by a representative of Queen Elizabeth II, making it the day Nigeria and her children would go on to celebrate their independence from Britain’s rule.
According to the dictionary, to be independent is to be free from outside control… not be subject to authority, forces, powers that aren’t yours. So what then does it mean to be free from ‘inside’ control? When the authority, forces, and powers that be within you are suffocating you, what is the word to describe the freedom you get from that kind of control especially when you were the one who fought for that freedom?
This time last year, Nigeria celebrated 60 years of independence. As you can probably imagine, in those six decades she has witnessed a lot. A lot of growth in terms of population, infrastructure, talent, economy. And when crude oil was discovered in her core in 1956? Wealth and aspirations are a couple of words that come to mind. But as with most things, one doesn’t merely have just good days. There are dark moments as well; ones that stain her history with the blood of her children from civil wars, coups, dictatorships and… protests.
October 2020 was a historical moment for Nigeria in many ways. Word spread like wildfire on the third day of that month when footage of a man in Delta State being allegedly shot by SARS officials (i.e. Special Anti-Robbery Squad, first formed back in 1992) made its way across social media. Five days later, peaceful protests against his death began to take up space in cities across the country; activists and organisations like Feminist Coalition came forth to act as sources of information, refuge and hope; a number of lawyers began to offer free legal aid to those who had been arrested for protesting against police brutality and extra-judicial killing. Nigeria was rising up and making her voice heard in a way that felt like change was, or at least could be, happening.
On October 11, SARS was disbanded (making it the fourth time this has happened) and soon replaced by a new group called SWAT. By the time we got to October 20 2020, the campaign against police brutality had gained so much momentum locally and internationally under the #EndSARS banner, that the Nigerian Army were deployed to disperse the crowds of people protesting in Lagos at Lekki Toll Gate. That decision led to the deaths of at least 12 protesters at the hands of the Nigerian Army. This, of course, sparked global outcry and a need for justice to find a permanent home in Nigeria, one that will result in police reform and shifts in the government to address the needs of a nation tired of carrying the weight of poverty, corruption and abuse of power.
Although the Nigerian government was forced to meet the demands of protesters and promised to conduct an investigation into police brutality, hearings have been slow and for some, justice still hasn’t been served. The government also took steps towards censoring the nation by banning Twitter in June this year when Twitter deleted a post made by President Muhammadu Buhari which ‘threatened to punish regional secessionists for attacks on government buildings.’
So the question I have at the moment as we mark yet another year round the sun is: What did that point in time mean for Nigeria and where do we go from here? To help paint a picture for the future, we tracked down a couple of willing Nigerians living in a post-Black Tuesday Nigeria to take another look at the #EndSARS movement a year on.
Here’s what Mide has to say…
Where were you when the End SARS protest started and what was your first reaction?
Mide: I was mostly in my house here in Nigeria considering there was still a bit of restriction on movement due to the COVID19 Pandemic. At first when I heard the youths talking about protesting my first reaction was ‘oh well, here we go again’ since that wasn’t the first protest I’ve heard of around here, protests are quite common. I knew what to expect from a typical Nigerian protest, but I was quite shocked at the way it all turned out.
What did that moment in time mean to you?
M: For me it meant a lot of things, seeing the way everybody came together irrespective of culture and ethnicity to face a common challenge, it was a moment of hope for me. I felt so strong and dedicated seeing the way Nigerians came through for one another at the time, no one expected the people to be that organised.
It also meant that we as a nation have a long way to go in terms of government, law enforcement and order. This wasn’t the first time Nigerians were coming out in mass to protest, there was also the time of fuel subsidy, the whole nation was shut down. #ENDSARS wasn’t any different in its agenda, the people just wanted reformations, but this time in the law enforcement sector and things went overboard, to some people it might seem like the country is under a democratic rule, but seeing the response from the government, I felt different, more like under a military rule or something.
It’s been almost a year since that culture-shifting call for social change in Nigeria happened. How would you describe the state of police brutality in Nigeria right now?
M: There hasn’t been much noise lately, Nigeria is a big country, police brutality is definitely going on, it’s just not loud in the media, just as there wasn’t much noise for a while before #ENDSARS came, I feel like it’s all happening again, it’s only a matter of time now. The police are out again like it used to be, collecting bribes on the highways, I’ve been stopped about three times after the #ENDSARS movement and to me nothing has really changed, same police, same methods, same uniforms, it might get worse next time. As long as no real reformations have been made by the government to stop all of it, we are bound to dance to the same tune, it‘s only just a matter of time now.
What are your hopes for Nigeria?
M: My hope for Nigeria is that its people realize that only through collective efforts can we cause any real changes. Having separate agendas would only lead to separate communities.
Also, I hope that we learn to truly love and respect ourselves. It is only when we love and respect ourselves that we can reciprocate that to our fellow citizens and environment. Vote and elect good leaders who would do the right thing and also make sound decisions even when it isn’t easy; teach our younger ones to pursue what is good, honest, and follow their dreams. My fellow youths seem to only have a desire for money and I totally understand, we all want a taste of the good life, but choosing money over the right values will not lead to happiness.
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For more info about the #EndSARS movement, check out the report the VAGUE Research Centre published last year and this VOICES on the Ground episode by Faith.
credits
voice — mide s
words — mo ray
design — sade popoola