‘Chibok 234’: ‘One million women’ united in protest

Posted by admin Boko Haram, Headlines Friday, May 2nd, 2014

Events in my household last week have underscored my motherhood ever more strongly. First, there was a baby shower. Then there was a milestone birthday anniversary.

A brother in Nigeria who heard of the baby shower asked what it meant. I told him it’s a party held to shower an expectant (or new) mother with gifts and words of wisdom, often from experienced mothers.

Typically, baby showers are organised for a first-time mother or mother-to-be. My oldest daughter, Ms. Nefertiti Aquah-Braden, in whose honour I hosted the baby shower on Friday, is in the second category.

I had previously attended two baby showers including one that friends in Edmonton, Canada hosted for me in 2003. I had never hosted one myself. Thanks to God Almighty for ‘Google University,’ the giver of all knowledge, I quickly became an expert!

Of course, the emergency “expertise” would have been entirely academic without the practical knowledge of Ms. Edo Etukeren, president of the Akwa Ibom State Association (AKISAN) in Arizona. “Madam Presido” arrived at my home, laden with games, activities and prizes, creating a fun and laughter-filled evening.

Three days later, my youngest child turned 10. I know … how did I get from being a soon-to-be grandma to being the mama of a ten-year-old? Let’s just say it’s one of life’s mysteries!

As a landmark birthday (entry into the double digits), it should have been celebrated with full throttle. Instead, it was low-key as we barely recovered from the baby shower, plus we are preparing for our middle daughter’s university graduation on May 15. Yes, my motherhood covers the entire gamut!

Not surprisingly though, in each of these mother-related activities, I’ve found myself thinking about the parents of the 234 girls trucked away from their school in the middle of the night nearly three weeks ago.

In my mind, I see the tears on the weather-beaten faces of fathers and the crouched postures of grieving mothers (as captured on newspaper pages). I try to put myself in the shoes of these parents, but I can’t.

The depth of their anguish can only be experienced rather than imagined. For too long, these parents stood alone and searched in the dark for hope and for their daughters.

Finally, Nigerian women — mothers, sisters, daughters — have joined the search for the 234 girls, any of whom could have been our biological daughter, and all of whom are our daughters, legacies and future.

It might have come too late but I hail the “one million women” who marched on the streets of Abuja (in the rain), Ibadan and Kano on Wednesday (with more marches planned for Lagos and other parts of the country).

The abduction of these girls is not a Hausa-Fulani or North-East or Muslim-Christian problem; it’s a Nigerian problem. It is a reflection of the value that the country (from Isoko to Sokoto) places on our children.

Nigerians (men and women) are doing the right thing by standing up for the ‘Chibok 234’ and shouting: “Enough is enough … Bring back our daughters.” They need to mount pressure on the “do-nothing politicians” in Abuja to roll up their babaringas and intensify efforts to bring our daughters home.

We should not have allowed these girls to spend one day longer than necessary in the hands of their captors. But I’d rather have a late action than no action at all. And so, as I write this material on Wednesday morning in the relative comfort and safety of my kitchen, I stand in solidarity with each woman who has marched this week to protest the inaction by the Nigerian government (at all levels).

I join their voices and appeal to President Goodluck Jonathan, Nigeria’s Chief Security Officer, to bring our daughters home. The business of politics can’t continue as usual when our daughters are being subjected to imponderable emotional and physical horrors in the hands of despicable cowards. (Only cowards would prey on innocent and helpless girls.)

And until these girls are back in their parents’ homes, could the Nigerian media be more circumspect in their coverage. Imagine this gem in one newspaper (quoting “security sources”): “The operation is being strategically carried out in a very covert manner because the terrorists will not hesitate to use any of the girls as human shields or even kill them in the event of an attack.”

The “covert manner” includes surrounding “the location, where over 200 schoolgirls who were abducted two weeks ago … are being held captive.”

How covert is it if the kidnappers are being told that they have been surrounded and that the girls can serve as human shields? Do the “security forces” or the reporter who wrote the story and the editor who published it think the kidnappers have no access to newspapers or the Internet? Can those in charge proceed with rescuing these girls safely without splattering their “covert mission” on newspaper pages?

In the same vein, an online newspaper sensationalised questions that the Peoples Democratic Party National Women’s Leader, Dr. Kema Chikwe, asked about the abduction. The headline was misleading, though I must admit that her “Who saw it happen?” question will very well end up in the Hall of Infamy along with other incoherent and ignorant statements by Nigerian politicians.

The question implies that if a tree fell in a forest and no one heard/saw it, it didn’t really fall. Similarly, if 234 girls were abducted in the middle of the night and trucked to an evil forest and no one saw it, it didn’t really happen, never mind the personal accounts of one of the girls who escaped or the bone-headed principal who said he thought the girls were being transferred to a safe house.

Dr. Chikwe’s follow-up sentences indicated that she was saying that the girls were not kidnapped. However, they just highlighted her own confusion over what it was she was “supposed” to say. Now that Nigerian women are fighting for these girls, ‘Madam PDP’ decided it was time for her to say something … anything. And so she opened her mouth and stuffed her foot right in!

Someone should have told her this time-honoured wisdom delivered by generations of mothers: if you have nothing good to say, hold your peace (to put it respectfully).

Perhaps, just perhaps, someone would think your silence is a golden manifestation of wisdom.wp_posts