The past few days have undisputedly been the most turbulent of times for Menchum Division in general, and Wum in particular. Blood like a pond filled our streets, terror like a rising Sun greeted our eyes. Be it in Weh, Esu, Upkwa or Wum, a dirge was being sung. From these sad songs rose the cries for humanity. Mountains and fountains also joined to wail to the heavens.
Peace plants in their mouths, old mothers, young women, girls, old fathers and some few boys, led by their traditional rulers from Naikom, Kesu, and Watio, went unperturbed to the Divisional Office.
Worthy of note, this peaceful march was staged at the dawn of the killing of one woman and three men suspected for protecting amba fighters in Weh. They were arrested in Weh and brought in Wum where they were executed. The killing of a young tailor and a night watch left the people traumatised and they had only one thing in mind; talk to the father of the Division.
From the wide window of my office, the number of people that made up a moving human forest, send a chill down my body leaving me spell bound.
This land was once a place to be. A place where the unborn destiny loomed in the sky and prosperity, hidden behind the hardwork of Nlomnnam's children. But then came the hovering clouds of darkness, the mist of sorrows and the fog of death. Man became an enemy to man and like scavenging beasts, we dug ourselves a grave, to bury our honour, our esteem, our pride, our prestige, our patriotism, our loyalty and even our essence to exist as a people.
The population told the SDO to let justice prevail so that peace can return to the restive Menchum Division. The trauma here is no longer the amba vs army wahala, but scores settling, point and kill, blackmail, false accusations and above all, the hidden revenge from the perennial farmer-grazer conflicts. In a nutshell, the natives are pitted against the Hausa/fulani cattle herders in the helplessness of defense and security forces." If these killings are not stopped here and now, Mr. Prefet, we will be moving on corpses on our streets. Let justice be done. Let the defense and security forces carry out their work effectively, and carry out investigations timely before wasting human lives."
Mr Abdoullahi Aliou, the SDO for Menchum, lamented the fact that some people are hiding behind the Anglophone crisis, to do harm to others.
"We fight among each other and kill each other, and bring misery, suffering and death to one another whereas we are compelled by nature to live together." These utterances of the father of the Division created a loud and heavy brouhaha from the huge crowd and he added; " Don't think that we are sleeping. No. We have developed insomnia as a result of these killings. Let me tell you that the 16 vigilante groups that were formed have failed. If they were working, such acts would not have happened."
To this, the population heaved a deep sigh of relief and proposed that these groups be revamped.
The defense and security officers present during the Frank talks, assured the population that since they are all yearning for justice and peace, they will do their work as they were trained to; protect the people and their goods.
Borrowing from Martin Luther king Jr, I have a dream that very shortly, Wum will be the pride of Menchum Division and the North-West Region. The dice will be turned and people will come from all parts of the Division and seek justice, peace, freedom, prosperity, wealth and build the future of this division for our children and their children.
I see love unity and brotherliness in Wum, the land of the rising hills and the living growth. This is a call to home; all great sons and daughters of Nlomnnam, it is time to heal our land. The birds must come to rest. Wum, the heartbeat of Menchum Division. The place where heroes come to die. The place where administrators come to rise. The land of the unknown beginnings and infinite ends.
When last did we hear the thunderous sound of the talking drum? Or the sacred message of the royal gong? Or perform any traditional rites? When last did we dance under the lights of the moon or watch our children play hide and seek beneath the moon. Talkless of them listening to stories of our great heroes by the fire side? Yes I am nostalgic. This is because we may not have what to bequeath to our children.
I cry for justice that will usher in Peace. Let there be justice. Let there be peace for our children long to sing like birds in the tree. Let the warring factions and the silent revengers turn to fight diseases, food shortages, environmental pollution, water scarcity, starvation, ignorance and hypocrisy. Let arms and hatred be buried in mass graves. Let peace reign so that our communities can grow till they can grow no more.
I see a new dawn, a new Wum breaking through the sky. A city of hope, justice and peace. Wum, be still.
By Stephen Ojang in Wum
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