Armed Robbers!
Several months ago at a bible study, the leader asked what came to mind when Psalm 121 was read. This particular verse sprung to mind 'He who watches over Israel neither sleeps nor slumbers' and I opened my mouth to say it reminded me of the night watchmen we had when I was a child who fell asleep one night and armed robbers came into the compound and took away some electronics including the TV my grandfather had been watching. We awoke the next morning to find him sitting in the same spot where the robbers had left him. After innocently narrating that experience I was surprised when I got all asked all sorts of questions by the others in the group, they included: Why did you need a night watch man? Where were the policemen? Is that a regular experience? It took me a while to realize that the concept of armed robbery, fences, maiguards is as foreign in some places as trying to spend the naira note outside the borders of Nigeria.
Once in University, I woke up to the sound of gun shots. I was fast asleep before the shots went off. My next reactions were nothing short of the reflexes of a Lagos gal. I jumped off the top bunk where only moments before I had been fast asleep and lay flat on my stomach, shouting for my roommates to turn off the lights and lie down with me. It took me a few minutes to realize to the amusement of my roomates that it was only the night watchman who had been newly hired firing off some shots! Not only was I the butt of jokes for the next few days, I was teased as being someone who loved her life and cared for no one else as I had asked others to put out the lights while I lay flat on the ground.
Looking back that drill had been an almost constant affair when the estate we lived in had been under siege by armed robbers. I cannot remember how long the oppression lasted but it was not unusual for everyone to get back to the house before dark, no opening of the door for anyone you did not know, an eerie like silence descending on the neighbourhood during this period. Gun shots became an almost constant sound and the drill was the same. You heard gun shots, all the lights went out and everyone lay down flat on the floor until you were sure the shooting was over. The next day you would hear stories of families parted with their material wealth- cars, money etc. The scenario was always the same- the thieves demanding dollars and pounds sterling, electronic goods, gold jewellery and other valuable items.
One day things got to a head when a rich and generous man in the neighbourhood was killed by armed robbers. People were upset that he had been killed even after he had given the thieves everything they wanted, so they decided to do something about it. The thieves and their accomplices were well known in the area. They had grown up in the area and had become terrors. The police probably knew about them but did nothing to stop them and like a joke I once heard ' did not have bullet proof uniforms' so they did not venture out when the thieves were operating. People got together and decided to visit the houses of the thieves and administer instant justice. If they were at home, they were brought out of their houses and burnt to death (no kiddding), if their parents did not give them up they were also sentenced to death. It became so bad that even petty thieves were killed.
I was at home one day when I heard the cries of a young boy who was said to have stolen a thousand naira in the estate. He was dragged through the streets and he was wailing as he went. His cries were horrible. I prayed fervently that he would not be killed. By the time I came to the gate much later he had been killed. It was a horrible time. Vigilante groups were formed and jungle justice was the order of the day. The brotherhood of thieves probably got wind of the activities in the neighbourhood for one day they visited brandishing weapons and making threats. They shouted and cursed asking those who had been burning thieves to come out and fight them. The streets emptied immediately, course even the vigilante groups that had become almost a nuisance conducting random stop and searches dissapeared into thin air. Who wants to die?
I cannot remember exactly when the attacks stopped but after sometime things gradually returned to normal. Peace returned, nightlife resumed and the gunshots faded away. Lessons I learnt during the period include being able to distinguish the sound of gunfire from fire crackers and of course the drill that cracked up my roomates in university. Living in Lagos was akin to living in a Jungle.
Once in University, I woke up to the sound of gun shots. I was fast asleep before the shots went off. My next reactions were nothing short of the reflexes of a Lagos gal. I jumped off the top bunk where only moments before I had been fast asleep and lay flat on my stomach, shouting for my roommates to turn off the lights and lie down with me. It took me a few minutes to realize to the amusement of my roomates that it was only the night watchman who had been newly hired firing off some shots! Not only was I the butt of jokes for the next few days, I was teased as being someone who loved her life and cared for no one else as I had asked others to put out the lights while I lay flat on the ground.
Looking back that drill had been an almost constant affair when the estate we lived in had been under siege by armed robbers. I cannot remember how long the oppression lasted but it was not unusual for everyone to get back to the house before dark, no opening of the door for anyone you did not know, an eerie like silence descending on the neighbourhood during this period. Gun shots became an almost constant sound and the drill was the same. You heard gun shots, all the lights went out and everyone lay down flat on the floor until you were sure the shooting was over. The next day you would hear stories of families parted with their material wealth- cars, money etc. The scenario was always the same- the thieves demanding dollars and pounds sterling, electronic goods, gold jewellery and other valuable items.
One day things got to a head when a rich and generous man in the neighbourhood was killed by armed robbers. People were upset that he had been killed even after he had given the thieves everything they wanted, so they decided to do something about it. The thieves and their accomplices were well known in the area. They had grown up in the area and had become terrors. The police probably knew about them but did nothing to stop them and like a joke I once heard ' did not have bullet proof uniforms' so they did not venture out when the thieves were operating. People got together and decided to visit the houses of the thieves and administer instant justice. If they were at home, they were brought out of their houses and burnt to death (no kiddding), if their parents did not give them up they were also sentenced to death. It became so bad that even petty thieves were killed.
I was at home one day when I heard the cries of a young boy who was said to have stolen a thousand naira in the estate. He was dragged through the streets and he was wailing as he went. His cries were horrible. I prayed fervently that he would not be killed. By the time I came to the gate much later he had been killed. It was a horrible time. Vigilante groups were formed and jungle justice was the order of the day. The brotherhood of thieves probably got wind of the activities in the neighbourhood for one day they visited brandishing weapons and making threats. They shouted and cursed asking those who had been burning thieves to come out and fight them. The streets emptied immediately, course even the vigilante groups that had become almost a nuisance conducting random stop and searches dissapeared into thin air. Who wants to die?
I cannot remember exactly when the attacks stopped but after sometime things gradually returned to normal. Peace returned, nightlife resumed and the gunshots faded away. Lessons I learnt during the period include being able to distinguish the sound of gunfire from fire crackers and of course the drill that cracked up my roomates in university. Living in Lagos was akin to living in a Jungle.
This ordeal is crazy. It just made me realize how different it can be living in diff. parts of Naija. I grew up mostly in Kano, and although there was a similar terror period where armed robbers where patrolling, it never got to be point where they were known and jungle justice was served though. wow.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing :D
Hmmm thats too general a statement "Living in Lagos was akin to living in a Jungle"... no offense...lived in Lagos all my life, Surulere to be exact and had no thieves come thru, and heard gunshots maybe once or twice but never anywhere close by.... but thats beside the point, thats no way to live or grow up still.
ReplyDeleteAgree with you Neefemi! I meant it to reflect the jungle justice and not the general state of affairs in Lagos! You were lucky:)
ReplyDeleteMwajim Al Thanks for the comment.
Jungle justice is crude but works too
ReplyDelete