More recollections on independence day

A nation’s Independence Day is an important milestone, a juncture where one could have a stopover to pause and muse on the joys and tribulations the nation had faced. As one is now getting into the ages of reflections, at every independence day I find myself engrossed in recollections of where we once were and where we find ourselves now. I dare say it would be presumptuous to look ahead to where we will be. But would there be any harm to hazard a guess?

Last year on this page I wrote that one was privileged to belong to that group of Nigerian children who stepped out to school for the first time in 1960, the year the country received independence from Great Britain our erstwhile colonial power. In other words, I belong to the Independence year school children. I cannot say I have a good recollection of that year. Being so small, I can only remember being walked to the school with my father at my side holding tight to my hand. The primary school I went to was just a shouting distance from our family home in the Fezzan ward of Maiduguri. In fact, the school sat just opposite our family home. Probably because it was so close to home, I became a perennial late comer earning a few lashes from my teachers.

What happened to Maiduguri, and us the Independence school children, over those many years is a reflection of what has happened to the country and its citizens in general. In 1960, Maiduguri was a compact town, small and tidy. Actually the town was only settled into in 1907 when the British convinced HRH Shehu Abubakar Garbai (the grandfather of the Shehu on the throne now) to move from Kukawa regarded as too far away from the centre. Yet Maiduguri is a toddler of sorts when compared to old cities like Benin, Kano and Lagos that had hundreds of years behind them. But there were advantages. You didn’t need to be a professional planner to see that the Maiduguri outlay was well thought-out. Built around the banks of a seasonal river, the streets were wide and straight with angular ends, with endless spaces at the fringes for further developments.

It was hot but the town was well serviced by thousands of neem trees adorning all the streets and making a dense wall around the town. There were no tarred roads, nor drainages though heavy rains never caused a flood. There were only two tarred roads in the town all emanating from the Residency (now Government House) to the Shehu’s Palace: one coming down towards post office, passing the front of the General Hospital to Dandal roundabout and the other through Elkanemi cinema to Makera down to the library and reading room that were adjoining the Shehu’s Palace. Even when development crept on the town in 1962 when drainages and tarred roads came to be built, we never really adjusted. There were few vehicles to ply the tarred roads. For some time, the macadamised roads became playing sites for children. I recall many happy hours having rollicking fun with other children on those roads which we saw as new phenomenon, and some kids actually fell asleep for the night there.

There were no taxis, no buses, only hundreds of bicycles and donkeys. There were plenty of horses too, particularly in the Shehuri ward that were mostly ridden on special occasions, at durbars on Fridays and Sallah days. Interestingly there was even a street named after horses, Furmari, behind our family house leading to the Dandal (Fur is the Kanuri equivalent for horse). However, donkeys were more ubiquitous particularly on Mondays when the market held sway and they came into the town in droves along with significant number of cattle and camels, all as carriers laden with whatever. In many parts of Monday Market there were spaces specifically for donkeys complete with stumps, fodder and water. It was just like the parking spaces we now have for vehicles.

The school I attended was one of the four or five junior primary schools (class 1-4) in the town. Students from these schools ended up in the only senior primary school, situated on the Dandal, a walking distance from the Shehu’s palace. I recall that one of the historic events that occurred when I was in Senior Primary School was the grand opening of the Railways Terminus in Maiduguri in 1964. Our town was host to all the Nigerian bigwigs of the time. The Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa was there in person including his host the Governor of the Northern Region, Sir Kashim Ibrahim, the Federal Ministers from Borno, Zanna Bukar Dipcharima, Waziri Ibrahim and a number of regional ministers. It was a big do, but I wasn’t privileged to watch it as only the bigger boys in the school were selected to match to the event.

There were no private schools in Maiduguri then though there was a primary school run by the missionaries. We had a General Hospital, one or two clinics, but definitely no private clinic or hospital. If indices of human development were kept for that period around the independence year they would be pretty awful. Health and educational facilities were limited. Water and electricity supplies were only available to a few houses in Maiduguri.

When I went to secondary school and had to travel the long distance to far-away Keffi, the roads were terribly bad. The Maiduguri to Jos single lane highway was only tarred in parts. Maiduguri to Benisheik (then called Gangatilo) was particularly bad and when it rained the road would be closed for more than 24 hours. The road from Jos to Keffi was one long stretch of a dusty road running over frightening hills and gorges. The vehicles we used, mostly Bolekaja and the like were rickety and made climbing Plateau hills with the risk of falling into those dark gorges a very daunting task. Looking back, however, I realize that there was no incidence of any student dying as a result of accidents on the road. The Nigerian Civil War started when we were in form one and we suffered the depravations associated with war conditions. Of course it was nothing compared to the harrowing experience of my age group in the other side of the war curtain.

That’s why when one stands back today and looks out to the Nigerian space, one marvels at the spectacle of the progress we have made since independence. We have a lot to crow for. Maiduguri, the place I started from, is completely transformed from what it was in 1960 into a mega city. You can make the same pronouncements on the other Nigerian cities. Wherever you look the majority of Nigerian citizens have access to all modern facilities. Of course the access can be better managed and the facilities could be better.

Today the 59th independence celebration is coinciding with the 20th year of the new democratic dispensation. We can beat our chests that at least we have tottered along to hold election after election successfully arriving now at the threshold of a new term of office for the President and most of the State Governors. However, we cannot claim to have made much progress as most of the indices of development are making dismal, worrying, showing. Wherever you look there are fresh challenges cropping up. Security, education, health, infrastructure, all offer fresh challenges. The silver lining in the horizon only seem to be a greater resolve by the political actors to think out of the box to surmount many of these challenges.