Now, the Bombs are Here!

Now, the Bombs are Here!

By Sam Onimisi

Bombs as man has come to know is, an explosive meant for maximum damage and was often employed in extreme or severe cases of war between two or more different nations. That was before now, not anymore. Now, the first weapon to be deployed as soon as an argument degenerates into a fisticuff is the bomb. Why this is so may be due to man’s growing impatience or an escalating thirst for bloodletting; I do not know. But my first experience of bomb was in 1967 during the Nigerian/Biafra War. I arrived my village from Lagos a few days earlier and enroute to Kaduna when something held me up at home. A child was born to my father and I was sent to his grandmother a few kilometers away to inform her that her daughter has safely put to bed. I rode my father’s bicycle for the errand, a message that I dutifully delivered and was returning home, jejely.
Unknown to me, I was to be punished for being the medium of that good news and a mother-goat, was given that assignment. A stream separated the two villages and a small narrow bridge had to be crossed. It was on the bridge that the goat chooses to execute her assignment. If you ask me, I will sincerely tell you that I did not see the shadow of a fly, not less of a big mother-goat. Before anyone could say meee, I had tumbled on my bicycle and was reeling right in the centre of the bridge! Passers-by said it was a goat, as for me I did not see nothing. However, there was I gasping for breath. The sound of my fall and the bleating of the goat produced a noise, which sounded like an echo of a bomb. That was the testimony of the passers-by. As for me, I was as blameless as Mr. Innocent, except that I was the victim of that accident who had to be the guest of the local Dispensary (now Health Centre) for weeks. As if this was not enough, something else happened. What was it again?
I was recuperating from that accident caused by that God-forsaken goat when the Biafrans struck. A primary school teacher living in our house, who is a maternal cousin rushed in to announce that the Biafrans were finally at Okene, a town ten kilometers from my village. A few hours earlier, the Biafran jet had discharged a bomb that had killed a prominent Anglican leader, Mr. Ajayi – a friend of my father who was then a Lay reader of the Anglican Church. At that time, and in those days, a teacher was a recognized and respected authority and his words were regarded as the gospel truth – next only to the Catechist. To say that there was a pandemonium would be an understatement. The fright that informed the mass flight from the village to the Ihima mountain – the Okehi Mountain also known as the abode of Ihima Deity, Ori-Ihima was something else. To the Christians, it was an Exodus and to the Muslims – a Hijra! The Animists were glad they were all fleeing to their protector, with both Christians and Muslims in tow.
My Dad announced that now that the end had come, everyone must choose what he/she wanted – to flee to the mountain or remain in the house and await his or her fate. Virtually everyone voted to flee to the mountain, except my father and I. Even if I had wanted to run, I could not because I was mauled by that goat accident. Again, my spirit was against the flight and so, I choose to remain in the house. My father who could not remember when last he cooked food by himself has to cook for both of us. For days, all members of our larger family took their abode with the Deity atop the mountain and my father and I remained alone in the house! We were waiting for the final battle - called Armageddon or the rapture when Jesus will come and take us ‘home’ A-r-m-a-g-g-e-d-o-n?
When the Biafrans failed to come, most of our people who took refuge at the mountain returned home. However, many had been bitten by snakes and a few mauled by lions. Some because of the fright-in-the-flight sustained various injuries and retuned home sick and weak. However, you need to know something else. During the Jihadist war when the Fulani invaded Ebiraland, the Orihima aided our battle by sending warrior hornets, which dealt devastating blows on the invaders and chased them away for the freedom of our people. Therefore,, most of our people invest faith in Orihima to do it again, against the Biafrans. While alone in the house with my father he asked me why, inspite of my infirmity, I refused to run to the mountain for safety. Without thought, I told him I did not believe the Biafrans would come to Ihima and besides, the bomb scare was not a problem to me, as I knew I had immunity against bombs. Was he amazed? To no end! He asked how, I told him that while we were growing up, we were taught that Orihima controls the thunder and during rainfall, if there was the sound of thunder, we were to say “I am the child of Orihima” and the thunder will depart in reverence and obedience. Therefore, I reasoned that no bomb is more powerful than the thunder and so, I fear no bomb!
My father was amazed at my answer and I noticed that from then henceforth, he valued my opinion more than my elders. However, he told me that in addition to the reason I gave, he read in Genesis how God bombed Sodom and Gomorrah and so, he knew that there could be bombs and so, if God decides to bomb Ihima – using the Biafrans – running to Okehi Mountains would not save his life! After all, his friend died by those bombs – the Biafran bombs. However, today, we have religious terrorists who could be your next-door neighbour and to whom you would have been a benefactor, but who hates you intensely not because of any offence, but for religious differences. He could be your childhood friend, your classmate, a neighbor far closer than a brother could. However, the day the religious demons seized him, he would forget your life long relationship and the fact that you were his benefactor all along. Until he made a barbeque of your flesh, he would not rest!
If the massacre were to be done via A.K. 47, you could say there is a limit to the number that could be killed or injured. However, a bomb – that is a weapon of mass destruction for which Saddam Hussein of Iraq was dethroned, hunted down and executed. Between October 2010 and January 2011, Jos, Maiduguri and Abuja have fallen victim of the bomb blasts. Moreover, scores of lives and billions in property were lost – just because of religious differences, tribal differentiation and political power tussle. Habal! Now, fear is the king and we all are forced to pay obeisance to it – regardless of our chosen faith or religion. The Church, which was regarded as a refuge, is no longer safe and the soldiers deployed to guard them are being killed. It is false confidence to believe that the Mosques are safe. Many no longer attends church services and attendance of Friday Mosque service has dwindled – all because of the fear of the bomb.
Now that the bombs are here, courtesy of the Movement for the Emancipation Niger Delta, MENDS and the Jama’atu Ahlus-Sunnah Lidda await Wal Jihan (or is it Jama’atu Nasril Islam), no one is truly safe. Even if I decide to go and hide at the Okehi Mountain – the abode of Orihima- I will still not be safe, except God Almighty guarantees my security. The bomb knows no religion, fears no deity, respect no authority, sees no persons; it distinguish people by neither age, status nor holiness. It has killed pastors, engineers, teachers, traders and farmers alike. Unlike the thunder, which strikes only when rain threatens or falls, the bomb is mobile. Moreover, unlike the thunder, which differentiates the guilty from the innocent, and those targeted from others, the bomb is a weapon of mass destruction without respect whatsoever. The next victim could be the thrower! There is no doubt that we are in a serious crisis, unless commonsense prevails.
We have seen what ethno-religious strife has done to Somalia and are seeing what is happening to Sudan. Why do we pretend not to known that the outcome of a war is not always in favour of the aggressor, or determinate by huge war arsenal alone? Number does not win wars, for it is not a numbers’ game. Every party to a war looses something at the end. It could be the loss of lives and limbs on a mass scale. It could also be a massive destruction of houses and infrastructures. Either way, the winner or loser would have lost several years of development and growth as the economy stagnated during the years of war. Go and ask the Persians of their experience at the end of the 1980 – 1988 Iran/Iraqi war. For God sake, this bomb throwing business must stop, now!