SisiBunmi: THIS CLOUD OVER OUR HEADS ...

                                                     THIS CLOUD OVER OUR HEADS

In the after math of yet another explosion and of course more vituperation and condemnation of the 'dastardly' acts, life seem yet again to be returning to normal or is it? My secretary recounted to me how her family was thrown into chaos and confusion this last Thursday, 1st May 2014, on hearing about the explosion in Nyanyan, she told me how her sister started wailing and rolling on the floor, mourning for her husband, how they were trying to console her, trying to be strong for her. Her husband had gone to attend a function very near where the bomb had exploded and his phone was not going through. And so the family was thrust into panic until their loved one called home. Apparently he was safe and unhurt, thank God. Sigh of relief.

On Friday as I was returning back from a meeting, I drove past the National mosque just as the worshipers were dispersing. There were so many people and so many vehicles and of course there was traffic. I was held up in this traffic. All of a sudden a strange feeling came over me, I started asking myself so many questions, what if something happens just now? What if someone among these crowd of people has sinister intentions? What if? And then I saw it, a car parked just by the road side, ahead, all windows up and nobody inside it nor coming towards it as far as I could see. I was still in the traffic queue coming up towards this mysterious car parked ahead of me on the right side of the road. My breathing quickened, my blood was pumping fast, in that minute I was transported to  Nyanyan, feeling their fear, their anguish, the feeling of a terrorized people. Just as my fear was reaching crescendo, an elderly man and a younger one, holding folded praying rugs under their arms, reached for the doors of this desolate car and made to settle in it. Phew! What a relief.

Again in church this morning, at the commencement of mass, I noticed two ladies come in hurriedly into church and sit in the row behind where I sat but one of them had this very bulky bag, (bear in mind that my church has a policy that allows only small purses which are subjected to searches before being allowed into the church premises). Again that feeling seized me up, I started fretting, this Nyanyan feeling again. But surely not in the house of God? And then I remembered the Christmas day bombing at St Theresa's Catholic Church, Madalla so I beckoned to a church warden and informed him of what I noticed, pointing to the two women. He promptly went to meet them and demanded to see the contents of their bags. They explained that they were with another lady who sat behind with a baby and the bag was actually a nursing bag, one of them then opened the bag and the warden went through the contents, feeding bottles, nappies etc. etc. I felt some calmness. The homily later did a lot to assuage me. The priest talked about how everything that happens is kind of pre-destined, that nothing is an accident just like the crucifixion and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, painful as it was, was not an accident, it was part of God's grand design. For some strange reason I kept glancing back at the two women till the end of mass.
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 It is not a fear of death, for death will come when it will come and it will be once. Terror is torture, it is dying many times over, the constant worry, the uncertainty, the anguish of the Chibok saga, the missing limbs, the wrecked lives, the stolen futures, this cloud over our heads. The anger, yes anger, for how dare they? Through it all, I salute the courage of our young soldiers, our police men and women, our rescue agencies, security agencies, our nurses and doctors. I salute Nigerians, one and all, we shall overcome by the grace of God.