Written June 18, 2012
Bismillaahir-Rahmaanir-Raheem
We had dropped the letter with the divisional headquarters of the police in Isokan Local Government Area of Osun State, Nigeria. Yet the police booked another appointment with us that we should come to have a last negotiation over the matter. They had wanted us to shelve our meeting that was to be held at Ikoyi on the day the biggest masquerade of the town, Eluruku, was to appear. All entreaties were falling on our deaf ears – we the MSS boys as we were referred to then.
The day of the appointment with the police coincided the eve of my Nikâh! My Nikâh to the mother of my eldest child. The Nikâh is ten years old now alhamdulillah. It was Abu Abdil-Mateen and I that went to meet the police to tell them we would not shift our ground.
In 1996 the masqueraders beat our brothers and sisters blue-black, the matter was charged to court and it took years before the case could be settled after the masqueraders begged. In 1999 when there was a coincidence, we maintained our ground and we passed in their midst like the Israelites passing in the Red Sea. Earlier on, in the 1999 event, the police had vowed that they would deal ruthlessly with us ,'and those your beautiful ladies will be raped,' a senior police officer had threatened. But we went and won, though there was no fight. I could remember that day when we appeared to the Elurukus in the main street of Ikoyi, our hearts gasped and we thought there was going to be a thunderbolt but praise to Allaah there was no fight. The police, unknowingly to us, had come around to mount an escort for us, thus we marched on while the drunken Elurukus were consoling one another on their loss. Sincerely it was an haraki level because we had other options but trust us, we needed to prove to them that we all owned the land, and that we were Nigerians!
So in 2002 when there was another coincidence, the police this time around would not budge. They demanded that we must shelve the meeting or take another route. We said no, and we tried to tutor them as we did in 1999. The DPO this time around was a Muslim, and you know what that meant? He would not give in, after all he was a Muslim as we were.
I was a part-three student of Mass Communication from Ahmadu Bello University then. There was 'grammar,' courtesy of Degoshie, Kamara, Mahmuud, Ladi, etc. of my department. Coupled with the fact that I was a budding journalist who had been trained to be fearless, and above all, the Jihaadi tendencies were just blossoming all over the Muslim world it was after the World Trade Centre infamy, so we saw ourselves as being mighty.
[Alhamdulillah that we are salafees today. We look into matters with binoculars of Nusoos and with reverence to the scholars' explanations. We were then emotional and sentimental. May Allaah however not waste our efforts].
We went and met the police at the Isokan Divisional Headquarters as I was saying. The Chief Imam of the town had been brought to wade into the matter. This was an Imam we were at loggerheads with over some aqeedah-related matters. He did little to persuade us perhaps he wanted us punished by the police. So in the course of the discussion – a discussion dominated by heavy grammar, trust the Nigerian university students with grandiloquence and verbosity.
Yes I was the one that made the statement, parroting what was written in the letter, 'our decision is irrevocable!' that was it. The DPO flared up and began to give orders that we should be put behind the bars. Immediately the whole police station turned into a turmoil. They began to dragg us here and there. My gentle friend was a bit askance but I remained myself. Yes it was time for Jihâd! The Chief Imam and his entourage left quietly happy. Some policemen were raining curses on us. Those who knew me personally among the police officers instantly denied knowing me.
They took us to the charge room. They removed my cap and asked me to loosen my waistband. I began to shiver from within yet I showed it there was no problem. The man to take our statement had come around, he wanted me to dedicate it to him I said no. Why did I go to school? A woman police came into the office, saw the way I was shouting. All of a sudden the woman – that woman – Wallahi – hit me with the edge of her palm on my nose. I was yet to recover from that when she gave me another slap direct on my face! My eyes became reddened. I stood up. Many thoughts came into me instantly. 'Hit her back,' a thought told me. Then I remembered that was the eve of my Nikâh. I restrained myself because I knew if I hit her, they would beat me to pepper and how would I look like on the day of my Nikkah? If at all I was released.
I stood up and caused a little commotion. I raised my hands and began to make fiery supplications in the language they did not understand. I knew it was not everything that I said in the supplications that were correct but Allaah knew what was in the heart. I was supplicating, the policemen began to shiver. The woman had to run away. Trust Nigerians now! They began to call one another asking me to stop. At a point they threatened me at another point they were begging me. The DPO himself was confused. They came around and placated me. My action worked.
No statement was taken again. The DPO said we should be given our caps and other materials and kept behind the counter. I did not remain silent totally. I was still talking. There was no police officer in that station that day that I did not reply except the DPO, I did not know why. The man was a Kogi man and evil-looking [he is still there in Ikire-Apomu, though retired].
By then efforts had been going on by brothers to secure our release. The people that came for my Nikkah from Zaria and other places had come around – Muttalib, Abdulwaahid (he is on Facebook), and others. Later that evening, before our release was secured, we had to be taken to the cell. That was on the order of the Inspector that took over the evening duty, though that was contrary to the order of the DPO before he left but that man did his wish. We Were taken to the cell and locked there. But we just stayed about one hour before we were eventually released.
I can recall what occurred in the cell. A policeman in charge of locking people in the cell on one occasion forgot the key of the cell on its padlock and went away. I will not say what happened thereafter here, mofi yen dola.
