Sallah In Soulless Abuja

• Salisu Suleiman
• December 09, 2009
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Sallah in Soulless Abuja

By: Salisu Suleiman

When a place has to be cleared of all its native inhabitants to pave way for the emergence of a capital city, a fundamental part of that place – indeed, its very essence has been uprooted. At no time is the soulless nature of Abuja more exposed than during religious or national celebrations. Give any public holiday, and the city is deserted in droves.

Last Sallah provided another opportunity to yet again examine this phenomenon. The streets were so empty that for those getting used to the miniature new Lagos now emerging, Abuja truly felt eerie. Driving to the eid ground between 8 and 9 in the morning, I almost began to feel that I was alone in the entire city. The sight of another car several minutes later gave me cause to cheer, almost like a lost, lonely shipwreck coming across a lifeboat.

Not even the fact that most Muslims who opted to spend Sallah in Abuja were on their ways to various open fields used for eid prayers gave the city any air of festivity. Sallah in Abuja is a soulless, sterile affair. It seems that the only people who suffer to remain in the city during public holidays are those who are unable to raise transport fares, or money for a full tank to bail out.

Not in Abuja will one see thousands of excited children decked out in their best clothes exuberantly celebrating the festival. Not in Abuja will you see the Emir and his palace guards decked out in full royal regalia proceeding to the eid grounds. Not in Abuja will one participate in the exhilarating durbars and horse-riding competitions that make Sallah such an exciting period. I promise I shall not spend the next Sallah in Abuja.

Missing the fun of Sallah apart, the dry empty streets of Abuja raises some fundamental questions about our new capital city. Abuja is nicknamed ‘the centre of unity’. But when the essence of a city is lost, when the bonds of humanity that binds people together is missing, there really can be no talk of unity. Abuja no doubt has some of the best streets in Africa. You will find homes in Abuja that can fit snugly into Beverly Hills or the French Riviera. (You will also find speed-breakers that will shake your car to its very chassis, and thoroughly roil your innards).

But where are the people to give Abuja colour? Where is the soul of the city? Beautiful houses and wide streets do not give a city character. Structures, leafy, breezy vegetation and plenty of automobiles do not contribute anything towards the emergence of the much touted centre of unity. It is only when Nigerians of all hues can become a part of the new federal capital experience that a centre of unity can emerge.

The only people that remain in Abuja during festivities and public holidays are those that are unable to travel out. Then there are the political exiles – former governors, ministers, senators and other top public officials who are on the losing end of whatever political struggles they may be engaged in back in their home states. For them, Abuja is a safe haven from where they can plot their survival strategies. (There are quite a few former governors wanted by Interpol for whom Abuja remains the last, and some cases only resort).

In the meantime, Abuja remains a landlord’s fairy land.  Residential property have been rented out for N25 million per annum, and paid for two years. Majority of public sector workers who man the wheels of government and the bureaucracy are moving further and further out of the city as the cost of rent skyrockets.

A two bedroom apartment in the city centre goes for N1 million. The estate agents demand for two years, in addition to 10 percent agency fees. No civil servant below directorate cadre earns up to a million per annum. So, out they go.

And because efforts to introduce a public transport system have not received sufficient government attention, traffic in Abuja is becoming a nightmare. Very few residents can say ‘see you in 10 minutes’, and keep the promise. Distances than used to be covered in 10 minutes a few years ago can now take upwards of an hour.

So Abuja, already lacking a soul, is fast becoming a jagged jumpy, jungle.