By Fred Chukwuelobe
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu visited crisis-torn Jos, Plateau State, yesterday, ostensibly to commiserate with families who lost loved ones in the latest round of violence. He stopped at the airport and was kind enough to give the grieving families ten minutes of his time. You know our president is very busy, and to spend ten minutes on a day filled with other matters of national importance, ten minutes for the Jos massacres alone, is apparently sufficient.
Again, the people of Jos, whose governor made sure to don the signature Tinubu cap in solidarity with the current mandate, had no reason to complain even if they felt those ten minutes were hardly enough to engage with their beloved president, on whose mandate they also stand.
There was no light at the airport, and the governor should take the blame, not FAAN. If they knew the president was making even a brief stop, they should have ensured there was electricity. Did God not say, “Let there be light,” and there was light? Even if that was not possible, what stopped them from taking a cue from Aso Rock by exiting the national grid and installing solar power?
Despite the apparent lack of preparation and sympathy, Tinubu was gracious enough to order the installation of five thousand AI surveillance cameras to catch the killers. Since our soldiers and other security agencies have proven either incapable or unwilling to stop the carnage, perhaps we should now hand over security entirely to AI cameras. Of course, anyone who steals these cameras will be severely dealt with, at least, that is the expectation.
Enough of this.
The crisis in Jos, the Tin City, has persisted for years. Excuses abound; theories multiply. Yet, as is typical in many parts of the country, no one is willing to admit that governments – both state and federal – have failed to bring the situation under control. Those who kill today remain free to kill tomorrow. The victims cry out in vain, because in Nigeria, elections and political appointments remain the ultimate priorities.
Public outrage over such killings lasts barely two weeks. After that, life goes on. I call it “our two-week outrage.”
And now, we are preparing for another election cycle. Go and get your PVC, if you can, and prepare to vote. The decision you make with your PVC may well determine how many minutes the president will spend with you the next time tragedy strikes by which time the five thousand AI cameras may already have been stolen and resold at Alaba International Market.
Because, no matter how dire the situation in Jos, someone will profit. The crisis is not about to abate.
Those who secure the contracts to install these cameras will go to church for thanksgiving. After winning the bids, installing the equipment, and cashing out, they will return to give thanks because, indeed, He is still a miracle-working, prayer-answering God.
Jos, my Jos – the place of my birth – has seen enough bloodshed. From the pogroms of 1967, following the first republic coup and the massacre of thousands of Igbo people, to the present fractures within what was once a monolithic North now divided among Berom communities and their Hausa/Fulani “brothers.”
Some say it is karma. I disagree. There is no karma here. Those being killed today were not even born when the Igbo were massacred. Meanwhile, the politicians who were alive then and some who played roles in that fratricidal conflict have since been rewarded with political appointments. They are not complaining.
So, who will save Jos?
Today is Good Friday, the day our Lord Jesus Christ was crucified. May His resurrection be marked with Jos in mind. Otherwise, those who live to witness the carnage and the government’s persistent lack of political will to confront it may one day curse the day they became Nigerians, and the sacrifices made during the 1967–1970 civil war.
Happy Easter in advance to you all. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
