BUHARI or the Northerners; Who do we blame?

Growing up was interesting. It was comforting within my beleaguered environment to be a kid. You would play all day without caution after all, Mama wasn’t always at home. I had a friend, a very close friend as it were. He was Musa. Musa was the only Kid in the hood who knew a lot about street games. He was the game master. For instance, Musa taught me to roll tyres, build sand houses with my legs and hunt grasshoppers. Musa was good at the games he taught. There used to be this grasshopper nicknamed “Champion”. It was the littlest but nimblest creature we ever knew but it never was an uphill task for musa. He would besiege this poor little thing with masterful mischief and then cup it in his hands effortlessly. We usually rounded up Musa to admire his catch. For many months, Musa was exclusively the only person who could get a ‘champion’. While we prayed to get this prey, Musa skedaddled into the field to have some more display of his adeptness. He was just that awesome kid in the neighbourhood every child looked up to in games. Add to it, Musa was smart and mischievous; a very perfect blend of attributes which we considered admirable as kids. Musa would catch a Lizard, lacerate the stomach and then attempt to sew it back as would a real doctor. Most times, the stitches were ridiculously woven but we believed in his ingenuity. Usually after sewing, the lizard will writhe and wriggle his body. Musa always told us that the lizard was coming back to life whereas it was simply oozing the little life it had inside left. Musa, when sated that the Lizard could make promising steps into its hideouts would throw it in the bush telling us it is hale enough to continue it’s life’s journey but after some days we usually found it dead. Anyway, Musa was awesome for a kid.
Musa’s parents were warm-hearted people. They usually never chased us from Musa. We could all go to his house to play around and learn new stuff and never get chided. Musa wasn’t rich, I mean of course his parents were necessitous but they never complained. My neighbour, Papa Nonso had a termagant for a wife who would always yell and fume all times despite that they could always eke out livelihood. Really, we loved Musa. Musa was a fine chap. He had this lock of hair which unfurled into his frontal. His entire hair was mollipilose; each time he added water it became gooey and squishy. We envied his hair given that ours sembled that of a sheep. Typically for me, no amount of water could make my hair flow with the tide. It was just as unswerving as a n old law. We were fine kids also don’t get me wrong besides, Musa even at 12 already had permanently lost his first two incisors. But, there was something we ever knew about Musa. Musa never went to church. We all were young, no doubt but there was always a day in the week our parents would ask us all to go have our bath and then lead us to a place they called a church. They called it Sunday. We would clap and sing to our capacities, sometimes raise our voices amidst the glossolalia. Musa never did these. He wouldn’t go to church and we wondered why. But, there was this day in the week we were always very happy; happy because we wouldn’t go to school the next day; it was Friday. We would want to play with Musa but we neither saw him, nor Papa and Mama Musa. Not too long, Musa travelled faraway to the northern Nigeria. He told us he was going to a place where only good people lived.
Barely a couple of weeks ago, In Kano state, a 74 year old woman from Imo state was killed by some charlatans who hide under the facade of being Muslims, because she spoke ill of prophet Mohammed. Similarly, a carpenter in Kaduna state was attacked by some youths simply because he was eating Ehen the others were observing their fasting. The Muslims there claimed that speaking against the Prophet was like wagging a red cloth in the eye of a bull. They added that consequent on their staunch belief in the teachings and practice of Islam, nobody could have his cake and eat it when it comes to uttering imprecations at the Prophet no matter how insignificant it appeared. The southerners expressed their displeasure at this mundane act. Severe threats have been hauled at the Muslims in the south to the effect that a number of them would be lynched to death should any further depravity be heard of. The gobsmacking part of it all was when our President, Buhari commented on the ugly saga. “Two wrongs cannot make a right. What has happened has happened. It is regrettable that such an ugly incident took place. Measures shall be taken to ensure it doesn’t repeat itself. But we must learn to tolerate others” he expressed his regrets. The complacent ones accepted this speech without reservations but what about the provoked? Many have come to the conclusion that President Buhari’s response to the issue clearly showed that he took it with a pinch of salt. He never commented on the need and how those who perpetrated the heinous savagery be brought to book. What does he mean by “Two wrongs cannot make a right?” “Why is he not pointedly concerned about this? Were it to be Nnamdi Kanu or Dokpesi, Dasuki or Metuh or Saraki he would have been interested” So have many expressed. #Shakes head.
One thing we must know as Nigerians is that this war of attrition is not going to help matters. Indeed, it is disquieting that the issue was not taken with the desired concern and verve; however, we must refrain from blaming the president for every pittance, trifling or action taken by others. The very observant ones should know that Buhari has unfortunately assumed the reins of power at a time when the country is charred up by many bedevilling elements; corruption, religious killings and all sorts of polarisation amongst ethnic lines. Hauling blames at the President is like a red rag to a bull; you would be simply blotting his copybook. He may be a Muslim but it doesn’t mean he is the one oiling the wheels of animosity amongst religious groups. Those who killed the Innocent woman are a sect of Muslims in Kano state; they share no consanguinity with the President. Religious killings has always been a problem of Muslims. No offence to Muslims, the rate of intolerance of diverging religious beliefs and lack of respect for human life is unbecoming, savage, hobbesian, philistine, barbaric, inurbane, uncouth, disgruntled and outrageous. What is the Essence of religion if it is not peace? There can never be any justification for the taking of human life, it is legally and morally reprehensible. Even if the statements she made were not right, it was no yardstick for killing. Efforts must be made to quell such savagery. It only sends a vile message that southerners are not safe in the north and they must dance to every northern whim. As antithetical as this may be to the tenets of fundamental rights, it also conveys a concurrent message that Muslims are not safe in the south and this could all lead to one thing; war! The attitude of some Muslims is commendable as they live peacefully. However, it is yet to be understood, why some others, in the cherishing illusion of being saved eternally, continue to mar others and promote religious mayhem. This nonsense must stop! The president must put measures to ensure that these ugly incidents do reek in our streets. Silence to such issues does not send the right message. Again, I must not forget to say that religious tolerance is a two-edged sword. What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Not only the attacker needs to learn tolerance, the vulnerable also. Christians must refrain from contumelious statements capable of inciting a mutiny. Don’t attack Muslims verbally and then cry foul when you are thrown into the arms of nothingness. As much as I condemn the killing and the attack, I urge that wisdom should be employed at every material time.
Oh! My Musa, you were the true picture of what goodness should be like as a Muslim. What has happened to this belief you held so dearly? Why the killings? Why the pertinacious stereotype? Why the diversity? My Musa would not kill another person because of his beliefs. He would be rational enough to enlighten the person. I was a Christian, he never was yet we never had disputes. He always understood, he was always willing to explain. Will Musa return from this Land of his? Or the question is, “Is that Musa still alive?”
MR. POSSIBLE.