The Almighty Nigerian Soldiers
Whenever I sleep and wake up awed, my dream must have been about soldiers. I fear anybody in camouflage, oh! I fear them. "Soldiers are nice people until they get angry," someone would say, "don't dare soldiers o, they can kill anybody without being questioned," another would corroborate. Ask anybody on the street, what he knows about the military and he will tell you how some six policemen were mercilessly whipped by just two soldiers, how motorcyclists(no matter how old) must come down from their bike and push, when approaching military check points or risk hell; how someone relocated early to the grave for having affairs with a soldier's wife or fiance, how somebody's husband was made to relish some 'frog-jump' as a beating for receiving a phone call at a millitary checkpoint, how unfortunate a driver was, who overtook with his car, a military hilux or any car conveying some green berets, and how you must not calm an angry soldier down, no matter how close or related you are to him, if you don't want some strokes of his belt or koboko. Someone even told me, that the most wicked of soldiers were female cadets and when she narrated her experience with one of them, I didn't wish to meet a female soldier in life.
I am, till cows come home, un-easy when I am with any of them, I try to comport myself almost to the extent of not breathing when I sight them. The lexeme, 'soldier' sends hysteria, horror and jam through my spines, I fidget a lot when I see any inscription indicating a military zone, I cannot go near a barack even in dreams. Not as if I am afraid of death( that seems the highest any mortal can offer) that much, neither am I too scared of 'frog-jump' or any of the many ridiculous punishments civilians enjoy at check points but I hate humiliation, and I hate it when people helplessly endure it too.
Despite my reservations on the numerous abuse of civilians by some power-drunk soldiers, ask of a people I love with passion, I will tell you it is the military. These are individuals who ignore the warmth of family life to keep us safe. Humans who stare death in the face, just to keep the majority alive, these are humans who deprive themselves of the merriments of free-will/freedom and instead embrace perpetual obedience to superiors even at the expense of their lives. They fall in love with the deafening exclamations of gun-shots so that snorers will sleep with two eyes closed. They romance the everyday come-die songs of the forest, they traverse the valley of the shadow of death, they eat nothings and remain in heavy weight uniforms. They have no shield for the coldness of the night nor cover for the hotness of the day. They have wives they scarcely enjoy and children who hardly recognize them, and all these, just to protect some 'bloody' civilians. What is preventing me from showing love to these fighters? Why do I have to see those who do too much to keep me safe and break out in sweat? Aren't they supposed to be the most cherished among the populace?
Ordinarily, a soldier is someone you should see and run-to for a selfie, someone a farmer should see and share the things he is bringing from the farm with, someone children should see and embrace, someone people should rally round and make sure he lacks nothing wherever he's serving, but what we see in today's Nigeria is a situation whereby soldiers brutalise the people they claim to protect, at the slightest provocation. So, those who should love them are afraid of them, those who should agitate for a better life for them can not move closer to them, those who should pray for them hate them. Before yesterday, I didn't know it was a crime for a Nigerian soldier to brutalise a civilian, so, why the incessant abuse? It shows the kind of country we are in, a country where anything goes, where there is no law, where things are falling apart. My brothers and sisters in the Army, I love you, many Nigerians do. We appreciate your sacrifices, we understand your pains, you are our heroes, you are our strength as a people and we can't but be grateful to you, but stop using the rod on us like we are goats, stop giving us public discipline like we are school children and we'll show you how much our hearts beat for you. I just hope this write-up won't attract some impromptu 'frog-jump'.
Ayeni Faith Damilola is a writer, public speaker and eulogist.
faithdamilolaayeni@yahoo.com