My heart tremble anytime I remember the brutality that led to the death of four promising Uniport students in 2012. I have watched horror movies but I have not seen the heart of a beast. I looked at
the people of Aluu, a community in River State, I sat, and I wondered who could be more dangerous between man and the Godzilla.
For the first time in my life I saw how heads were like nuts being cracked open to the joy of a heartless crowd. Like a wild cat, the Aluus didn't just throw happy families into unexpected mourning but
also drew boiling tears from 'every' eyes that watched on video how the boys were sent on an errand to the world beyond. However, this piece is not set to open an old wound or lay fresh allegations.
Rather, it is drawing our attention to the pains of injustice.
It is now two years since the said community shock Nigerians with their monstrous act. And ever since the condemnation of this callosity, what followed thereafter was absolute silence. Nothing of worth has
again surfaced on the subject matter, and like cockroach falling on its back, the bereaved families kicks their legs in vain.
I did not know what the fathers would be since many men will not be caught dead crying. But then, I can borrow the philosophy that marries sweat to tears and tell you that even with the manly potential of men, nature still have a way of telling their pains.
The greatest phobia of a real mother is the fear of loosing a child. They would rather die before anything pounce on their child for any reason. But now that these women have come directly in contact with
their most dreaded fear, how do we pull them out of this trauma and set their distress minds to some relief?
Even if you clear the pictures of their beloved sons hanging on the walls of their living rooms to make them forget, can anyone clear the ones hanging on the walls of their heart? No amount of condolence,
counseling, or motivation can completely erase this life-long itch irrespective of whatever they might enjoy after. However, with the way it had been, a quick and responsible judgment will go a long way to
buy them some measures of relief.
"What did my son do?". This was the heart-ripping question from one of the bereaved mothers. I pondered in pity and I felt the pain of motherhood. But my greatest worry is for our country Nigeria. How we sleep to forget yesterday like it has all been well. How we fail to write tomorrow with the hard lessons of today. And how we seem less concerned with fire on the roof of our neighbor.
A lot of atrocities are on daily basis bombarding the angles of this country like electrons on radioactive element. Unfortunately, the Chibok girls is 'all' that we simply can see because of the large
number of people involved. However, I must confess that the lives of the 276 girls put together cannot in anyway be proven to worth more than one other life that has been nefariously terminated elsewhere in this country. And if anyone runs contrary to my opinion, I challenge you to a formal debate.
In the South-West, a popular adage bid preference for a lost child to a missing one. I thought about this and I said a capital no. A missing child can return home, but a lost child is gone forever! That is why
there is still hope for Chibok. But if I may ask, what is the hope of these families that fell into the barbarism of a village called Aluu, and the ones of many other victims of the evil that men do?
I share the pain of the Chibok parents with heavy heart but the same heart must at any point be critical. If we can rise to the story of these girls, then we can rise to filling the colossal vacuum created
by the anomalous contours of our environment. Why must human beings disappear like chickens on the same road where we claim to have military patrol teams? Why must there be no governmental agencies to monitor and probably provide a regular investigative report of all abandoned projects before they start to serve as demonic hideouts? These are some important questions we need to ask ourselves before we check into the judiciary.
As we all know, saying that there is weakness in our judiciary is only an understatement. It is far too weak for the existence of the rule of law. The Aluu lawlessness was not a piece of cake and I must state
clearly that to demonstrate a law, there is total need for scapegoating. By this I do not mean the parading of suspects before the news media but the legitimate handling of cases to boost the
confidence of the Nigerian people in our judiciary. Hence not, there will be continuous re-occurrence of these ferocious attitudes and I must confess that not everybody can afford to let-it-go.
In a nutshell, I call upon the Nigerian judiciary to make hay while the sun still shines, and I ask them to see their selves in the shoes of these helpless mothers in particular. How would 'you' have felt? How
long can 'you' anticipate? We must understand that the delay of justice is injustice!