From Cracks and Crannies, I Saw the Walls Going Down: Protest Art Exhibition by Ernest Agoba

Nine years later, after the first major crises in Jos, in 2010,  Muslim Hausa-Fulani herders massacred more than one hundred Christians in Dogo-Nahawa village near Jos.  That was  on the 17th day of  January, 2010. These attacks went on for hours killing hundreds of villagers in their wake. They set ablaze many of the buildings and left corpses dumped on the streets. Many of the dead were women and children, including an infant less than three months of age. In total, in that year, more than 1000 Nigerians were killed in the violence that persisted in the city for over two weeks. Of the many ironies surrounding this tragedy, one of the most notable is that Jos was once a cosmopolitan city, with residents drawn from different parts of Nigeria and the world at large. Its high altitude and cool weather offer a pleasant climate that attracted migrants and tourists. Decades of predatory governance and economic neglect, however, turned this cultural melting pot into a fiery cauldron of ethnic and religious tensions that have grown worse with every bloodletting, as grievances from one bout of violence went unaddressed, sparking the next round. I remember moving out of a dangerous road where there had been a major skirmish one hot afternoon. Though I managed to conceal my fears, I remember how I was confronted with the sight of hundreds of dead people on the streets,  with so many women among them clutching onto their children in their death. In this settlement called legislators quarters, there were over 50 buses with no less than 20 people in each of them dead.  I could see the horrified look hanging in their eyes as they begged to be spared before they were burnt to death in those buses. In most parts of Jos, were commercial motorcyclists sitting dead on their motorcycles with burnt motor tyres hanging around their carcasses.  I remember my son clutching onto my legs in fear any time I tried to step out of the house. I remember his teary eyes piercing through my spirit as he begged me not to leave. These incidences were not reported internationally. The reports from the national press did not near match the reality on ground. I was bugged by the fact that most people were scared of reporting it the way it was. At that time, we were all scared of the Muslim terrorist group known as Boko Haram and the multiple splinter groups that had been generated from the killing of Mohammed Yusuf in 2009. With the death of Yusuf, and the avowed threats by the group to revenge his death, coupled with the escalated crises in Jos, Kaduna, Bornu, and other neighboring states, I saw a large scaling crack on the walls of our nation. About six years after the crises, on the 24th of June, 2016,  I had my first protest exhibition titled, “Cracks on the Walls”.