Courage and grit: On the trail of Boko Haram

Courage and grit: On the trail of Boko Haram
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The 90 minutes from Maiduguri to Bama was paved with destruction; nothing made by man or nature untouched by war. Thousands have died since the senseless carnage wrought on by Boko Haram began 4 years ago, millions more displaced, yet hope somehow survives in the eyes of some people who have lost the most. Not even the most heinous atrocities wrought on by Boko Haram can completely displace the sense of hope that still lives in the eyes of victims.

The kind of hope and courage I saw in the eyes of Bakura Ali Garra, 29-year-old undergraduate, and Sector 5 Commander of the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) in Borno state, in charge of the protection Government House, Damboa Road and Sule Manti. He leads over 300men.

The first time I saw Bakura Abba, we had stopped to allow the security teams attached to us do a brief reconnaissance of the area ahead and around us. He was casually swinging a pump action, sometimes over his shoulder, other times beside him as effortlessly as one would swing a man-bag. Obviously popular, he chuckled as he walked by vehicles, including ours. I asked a colleague, “why isn’t this one wearing a bulletproof vest? Why is he so cocky?”

It was my first trip to Boko Haram ravaged Borno, embedded as a social media strategist, part of the delegation of the Victims Support Fund/ Presidential Committee on North-East Initiative on an assessment visit to the IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camp in Bama. The drive to Bama coincided with the World Humanitarian Day and so we joined a government delegation led by Governor Kashim Shettima.

The entire trip had been filled with excitement, trepidation and an alertness I did not know I was capable of. Knowing that barely two weeks before, a UNICEF aid delegation had been ambushed on the same road we were now on did not inspire any confidence; the size of the convoy, the military and CJTF circling our cars did little to allay my fears.

Bama. While the Governor talked with the Army Officer commanding the battalion securing the area, I decide to distract myself by identifying as many uniforms and ranks as I could. Then I heard that laugh again. None other than my cocky man, still not in uniform or any protective gear. Chatting and still swinging that shotgun nonchalantly. I had to talk to him.

Bakura Abba is 29 years old, the son of a wealthy business man. He has an aged mother, a pregnant wife, and is a 300 level student studying public administration at the University of Maiduguri. He looks forward to graduating and getting a job as an admin officer in a nice place; “I do not want to join the Army”, he said.

Bakura has been married for three years, same length of time he has been fighting Boko Haram. Why fight when his family’s money insulates him from the carnage in his state? “At first I didn’t want to fight” he said, but now I know it is what I am supposed to do. I was forced into fighting Boko Haram, one of our commanders had to take me to my father to tell him that if we young people did not protect our homes, Boko Haram would win. Now I agree wallahi, they have done enough damage; nayi shirin mutuwa akan kare garin mu.”

Now animated, he stated he wasn’t afraid of dying, of losing his new wife. “Every morning I beg my mother and my wife to pray for me and to forgive me because I do not know if I will come back. Only Allah knows, but you know you women are always afraid.”

We both laughed at this, and I teased him about inviting more worry because he neither wears a helmet or a bullet proof vest. The arrogance came back in a flash. “I don’t need them at all. What I have is more than any bullet proof vest,” he said, lifting his shirt to reveal a mess of rope, cloth and something that looked like a cross between a bandage, a shoulder pad, and a flattened out ice tray. He showed me a few rings too. “I have seen friends with bullet proof vests killed in battle, one of them was even standing beside me but the bullet didn’t touch me. The only thing is idan lokacin mutuwa na ya iso, lokaci na ya iso; the day Allah says it is my turn these things will not work.

Even when we were coming here, I was praying Allah ya nuna mini Boko Haram domin na kashe su.”

Bakura sees the civilian JTF as a brotherhood of people that does not need to recruit; the problem is deciding who to take on. The civilian JTF is 26,000-strong and has been begging to be legitimized by government. “It is one of my priorities as a Sector Commander” Bakura said, suddenly grave, “but government is helping small small. So far they have absorbed 250 of our boys into the army, but there are many more”.

“Money is also a problem, CJTF are very poor. The governor is trying, giving us money periodically, but I never know where mine goes. It’s either someone’s wife has given birth, or their mother is sick, or their child needs something. When they come to me, I cannot turn them away. Even this shotgun, I bought it myself for 200,000 naira (about $640).”

Bakura cannot wait to be through with university and is worried about combining studies with CJTF responsibilities. “Once, I missed three exams. I had to carry them over; there was nothing I could do! When I am in school I am not Sector 5 Commander, I am just Bakura Abba.”

PS: Bakura is now daddy to the most beautiful baby girl. And he’s in final year, with a new worry – what his thesis topic will be.

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