A bomber and brave interceptors

Aliyu Musa

Last Saturday Jos wore a mourning mood, once again, after a suicide bomber whose mission was partly truncated died alongside two brave men that took on him. But not much has been said about the gallantry of the two men who stopped the bomber from gaining access to his actual target – a viewing centre where no fewer than one hundred fans had assembled to watch the football match between Real Madrid and Atletico Madrid.

Following an interview with an eyewitness who’s also a brother to one of the victims, I am inclined to believe the young man who drove the fairly new Honda Odyssey in which the bombs were concealed, perhaps, was not fully briefed that he was on a suicide mission. He had dreams, beyond the Saturday he died, and he had hoped to be fully rewarded at the end of his mission. But it never was, because Alhaji Bello Ali and his friend Alhaji Auwalu Yussey, stood between him and the successful accomplishment of his mission.

The Kanuri youth, I was told, had driven the car to the ‘chosen’ part of Jos much earlier in the day and had it fixed at a mechanic workshop a stone’s throw from the viewing centre. While waiting for the car to be fixed he sat over a bowl of local meal of sour milk and flour balls (fura da nono) and told a story of the fortune he was about to walk into. He mentioned N10, 000000, with which he planned to buy a much nicer car. As he told his story nothing had given him out as a man that would soon be responsible for the death of two gallant men that had interceded for scores of others.

Soon after the car was fixed he drove away to a carwash, had it washed and returned to the mechanic’s where car polish was applied to make the Honda glow. But for what later transpired anyone, including the mechanic, would mistake the bomber for a Porsche-loving bloke, whose closest feel of it was the dream he had about the millions that would never come to him.

While the car polish was applied he took a leisurely walk, carefully surveying the area and mapping his target as he finalised his wicked plan. He seemed also to have planned the moment to strike with the knowledge of his superiors or co-conspirators. So making sure all went well was paramount. He again drove away in the now fascinatingly clean Honda only to return about five hours later with one mission – park the car laden with explosives as close to the viewing centre as possible and walk away.

But he had not reckoned with the barricade that would come between him and the viewing centre at 8 pm. And when he arrived and saw it he quickly devised a tactic to beat it, which Alhaji Ali and his friend Alhaji Yussey helped to render unhelpful. Meanwhile two other men had arrived earlier, before the barricade was raised, and had gained access to vicinity of the viewing centre. But their Hilux van had no lethal components to cause the maximum casualty they badly desired.

The bomber pleaded to be allowed past the barrier to where his car had been fixed earlier, arguing that he originally planned travelling to the northeast but because he was late he wanted to pass the night in his car by the mechanic workshop. While his plea fell on deaf ears and his accomplices realised time was running out they drove out of the barricade and because they were leaving the vicinity they were let out. But unknown to the young man manning the barricade and the two men stopping the bomber from gaining access the men in the Hilux van in fact had the device to detonate the bombs in the Honda. And within minutes after they drove away the bombs went off killing Alhaji Ali, his friend and the bomber.

Many lessons could be learnt from this tragic event. The first was the heroism of the two men, who even after realising they were holed up with a suicide bomber stood their ground and insisted on inviting the police. Terrorism does not discriminate on the basis of race, tribe, religion, gender and so on. When the young man arrived with his car filled with explosives he had no care who would be hit, all he cared about was the money he was promised. But the men who stopped him knew the risk they took. But more importantly they knew they were saving many more lives including people they did not know, whose tribe or religion did not matter.

Ethnicity and religion are conveniently deployed as a fault plane that sets us apart and distracts us from challenging the tradition of ‘business as usual’, which epitomises our society. Our bid to tackle the menace of the Boko Haram insurgents has also been badly hampered by our disruptive ethnic and religious sentiments. And the media that often hasten to paint every Muslim (and sometimes non-Muslim northerner) as a potential terrorist are nowhere to tell the story of these brave men.

The second lesson is the one we all need to learn, to not judge people by their outward appearance. As harmless as the young Kanuri man looked he had concealed in his heart evil, whose knowledge he was well aware of but he had made up his mind on it. But unknown to him too he was dealing with treacherous characters that would betray him and have their way even at such a huge cost, including his life.

So, maybe not all Boko Haram bombers are as brave and willing to die as their leader Abubakar Shekau claims. They may also be victims of their greed and Shekau’s scam.