Growing up, I had always known my state to be a home of peace and tourism. We had people travelling all over the country, and some parts of the world came to visit my state not just because of the tourist attractions but also because of the beautiful weather and food.
It was a beautiful Friday morning, the 28th of November 2008, so I thought 馃. School was in session, and I was in boarding school at St. Louis College.
Being in a Catholic mission school meant we had to balance our study life with our religious life; hence, we attended morning masses every day of the week before we resumed classes.
As usual, all the students were already sitting in the chapel singing sweet melodious hymns and waiting for the priest to arrive. The mass was a 30-minute mass (6:00 a.m. to 6:30 a.m.). The clock kept ticking as we sang the hymns, but there was no sign of the priest coming.
The principal, who happened to be a reverend sister, went out and came back several times; probably she was trying to call the priest. But after waiting for like forever, we were asked to return to our hostels and wait for further instructions, which was weird. We normally just head back to our duty post immediately after mass for our routine morning sanitation, and the only people allowed back to the hostels were those whose duty was in the hostels and the senior students (SS3).
The hostel's matrons, a few female staff that were living in the staff quarters, the security men, and the principal all came to address us in the hostel. We were asked to stay in our hostels, and class activities for that day were cancelled due to unrest in the state as a result of a local election. Elections were usually held during the weekends in Nigeria. It did not seem like it was something to be scared of, as we were all very happy, not knowing that it was going to be a very long weekend.
The school fence was high, but one could see everything going on beyond the fence (there was a small community kilometres away from the fence) staying on an up bunk. Barely an hour after the announcement, we started hearing loud noises and the sounds of gunshots. We could practically see people in that community running Helter-Skelter. The atmosphere changed almost immediately; everywhere was smoky, and the community was engulfed in flames. All these happened within a minute without warning. I had never imagined that a time would come when I would see my life flashing right before my eyes. I was scared to my bone marrow; some of the students were already crying馃檰.
The chapel prefects told us not to panic, and we were advised to start praying the rosary. While praying, all I could see were flashes of what happened in the movie HOTEL RWANDA馃槩. I became more terrified. Ah! There was no way out; was that going to be my end? So many bad thoughts kept flooding through my mind.
My thought was suddenly interrupted when I heard the announcement that breakfast was ready and would be served in front of one of the hostels. As we were not allowed to move to the DINING hall to avoid being noticed, we spoke in low tones so as not to make whoever was outside the fence notice there were students in school. It was then obvious that the whole state was on fire.
The next day, we heard that the attackers had a list of schools they wanted to evade; they had succeeded in breaking into one of the schools, but fortunately, they were overpowered by security operatives before they could even do anything. There was also a break-in attempt at our school, but the school's security was swift enough to stop it.
The state government, the bishop, and some of the parents who had connections were able to deploy more securities to the school that Saturday evening. Seeing so many uniform men carrying guns living with us, just like in the movies, made some of us cry out our eyeballs. I could not eat; all I could think of was how and where I could run to and hide if eventually they succeeded in breaking in. The thoughts of getting raped and beaten before being killed were living rent-free in my head, probably because I had watched a lot of movies with similar scenarios.
For several nights, we couldn't sleep well; the sounds of gunshots and people wailing outside the fence were enough to keep one awake.
Fortunately, the military was deployed to the state, the situation became calm, and on Tuesday, the school management had to call our parents to come and take us home. My mom's line was not reachable, which implied I would have to stay back in school for another night. Hmmmm, I will die if that happens. Fortunately for me, my uncle, who happens to stay in the capital, decided to drop by and visit me that day, which came right on time.
Driving home, I saw so many properties that were destroyed; I even saw a burned body. In less than a week, hundreds of people were killed and tens of thousands displaced. It was indeed a really terrifying experience. It took time for me to get over it and to stop having night mares.
Curious about the priest?
He was held up at the cathedral, some distance away from our school, safe and sound.