And my stomach turned to water

I was at work when my son called me to say a bomb had gone off at the nerve centre of Wuse 2 in Abuja. I call it the nerve centre because it is the crucible of over six shopping malls and numerous restaurants. It is where those who know Wuse 2 well go to for all their needs, bulbs, drinks in packs, food on the run and the neighbourhood salon. Busier than most places in Abuja, it generates a go slow, two miles long and can drive to distraction. It is also often so populated that you either parked outside the malls or walked into them or you struggled to get a parking spot which can take you all of forty minutes.

It was at this sort of place that a person dropped some explosives, killing twelve people and injuring a sizeable number of compatriots alike. People gathered, some yelled, others cried and others still were gone. These were people who were simply minding their business driving by or minding other people’s businesses for them as shopkeepers. My heart skipped and my stomach turned to water. Watery from sadness, from thinking of the loved ones of the deceased and the injured and thinking what else could we have done to avert such a tragedy. We are each other’s kith and kin; we are each other’s friends and each other’s communities. We are so intertwined that we should shout as hard as our voices can go that this is no longer acceptable. Nigerians let us hold hands and do all we can to bring this sadness that is engulfing us to an end

Just as I thought of how to manage this daunting information, I arrived home to the scroll on Television that says that a plane is thought to be missing between Nigeria and Gabon. And my stomach turned to water. My daughter who was sitting beside me in the living room captured my weariness when she said “I am now afraid of the world” Indeed so we should.

But these are the things I know for sure.

That this too shall pass.

That we shall become stronger after all of this.

That we have a nation to build and it is a collective responsibility.

That we must sorrow with those who have lost loved ones in this tragedy.

That we must support all those whose lives have cracked as a result of their grief and help to put their lives back together.

That we must help law enforcement agencies identify and flush out undesirable elements in our midst.

That we must not teach our children hate no matter the circumstances.

These are all everyday things that must be at the back of our minds as we face perhaps what can be considered some of our greatest challenges in recent times. That child we tell every time not to play with a neighbour’s child because of where the neighbour comes from is being taught hate unwittingly. That child we ask to bring money to pay your rent and remind that Lagbaja’s son is doing very well is preparing to become a kidnapper. That child you tell that he is good for nothing every day is preparing to join bad boys or girls down the street. Those kids down the street may be encouraging your son who you scold, quarrel, and insult and diminish every day to become an insurgent. You think he is an idiot but someone else is telling him he is a hero is describing him as brave.

The war against insurgents is not a one man war. Let us tell them if they are in our community that they can turn a new leaf. Let us watch what we say to our children lest we lead them astray. Words are so powerful that they can do or undo. Nurture your children. Let them know they are loved. Draw them close. Be patient with them. Some kids have attention deficit disorder, some kids are dyslexic. A lot of these learning disorders can make a child difficult and unruly and if you do not understand it, you can harden that child and drive him or her into the hands of very bad friends.

This is the time for parents to take their children back and communities take responsibility for nurturing their youths in the right direction. Everybody is called to action from schools to parents, traditional rulers and local government chairmen. This is our time to reclaim for great nations are built during tough times. It is to buckle up and do your bit. Every single one of us is called to action.

As pictures of the blast at Emab plaza continue to flash across the screens, I remember the many times I have driven up there to pick up a pack of bin bags; and my stomach turns to water.

Eugenia Abu