Can Nigeria afford the cost and consequences of instability?

On 21 February of 2000, a young girl of about 14 years was dragging an old man of over 70 years in one lungun of Rigasa Kaduna. She was dragging him not because she was mean but because the old man had lost strength and could not move himself. With tears in her eyes, weak from days of hunger, fear, and trepidation, she kept crying, " Dad, please move, please try," and she continued to drag him while hoping she would not draw much attention to the scene on that quiet, dark street.

A few days precisely on Monday earlier, this old man’s house was looted and burnt, and he was matched on the chin. His family, scattered at this time, had only United two days earlier. After their reunion, glad that he still has his family, he is told there is a fatwa on him and his family. This is why this girl and this man are in the situation.

The family had decided to divide themselves into two camps just in case they ran into those trying to kill them while trying to escape to the nearest police. At least the whole family would not perish. This man was left with his daughter while his wife followed another route. Thankfully, after much effort, they got to the police station, and the family was united again. The following day, the wife disguises herself to trek a distance you will only understand ( Gidan moukashi to Barkin Ruwa express) to get to another part of town (take a cab to Kalaba-west) to meet a family that remains indelible in their mind( The Surajudeens.). Two days after being at the police station sleeping on dust, the old man was exhausted to the point that the only sound that came out was groaning and tears without words. They left the police station, and a day after they left, those after them came to the police station and burnt it down.

This is not fiction. This is the story of my life. The crisis in Kaduna in the year 2000 has impacted me in ways I can never forget. The old man was my father, Pa Remilekun Johnson Popoola, popularly called Yellow, who died less than two years after all this. I am that old girl who still suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder because of this incident. Our house, burnt down and sold years later for peanuts, is the famous number 52 Gidan Mokashi in Rigasa Kaduna. If you lived in Kaduna between the 1960s and 2000 and know Rigasa and don’t know Yellow, then we have to question if you knew Rigasa. It is a 56 rooms, yes you read that well, FIFTY-SIX rooms with shops in front use for business and residence at the back.

I write this deeply personal story because Nigerians have been playing around fire for too long. Countries dealing with instability started like this: like the couple's nighttime of just the tip, and they are where they are. Fisayo Soyombo Journalism and many like him are vital for national safety, security, and stability.

You are still saying this government will favor me because we still have the 3S (safety, security, and stability) even though it is fragile. God forbid a breakdown food go bitter for your mouth. Border security is one of the foundations for our continuity as a nation.

Which country will accept Nigerian refugees?

What was done when our entire data was allegedly reported to have been compromised, allowing people to access citizens’ vital and sensitive information?

Patriotism cannot be forced or bought. You can’t force loyalty from citizens who live at the mercy of your ineptitude.

Nigerians, if you like, let another sex tape or celebrity gist distract you while our is on the brink of .....

If you follow me here, you know I don't write about my Dad because na another crying and therapy section loading, but I type this with tears because we have no other nation but this country.

Sharing for the first time, the first love of my life and a father who can never be replaced, Baami Pa Remilekun Johnson Popoola.