March 14 will never be the same for thousands of women in northeast Nigeria. It was the day – eight years ago – when members of the Jamā’at Ahl as-Sunnah lid-Da’way Wa’l-Jihād (JAS), better known as Boko Haram, attacked the Giwa Barracks in Maiduguri and the day that they lost the men in their lives – their husbands, fathers, sons, brothers and uncles.
At the time, the Council on Foreign Affairs reported “a killing spree” outside the gates of the barracks during which many of the soldiers, prisoners, attackers and even bystanders had died.
It was after that when the army rounded up the men of Maiduguri and, in most cases, unlawfully took them into custody.
The men – many of whom were young boys – were accused of being Boko Haram members, or at least affiliated to or connected with the group in some way.
But the women said their men had been detained illegally and they could not be accounted for. The men had been missing since then.
To this day, hundreds, if not more, of women in Maiduguri remember this day. And this year was no different. On Monday, March 14, they took to the streets, under the umbrella of the Jire Dole Network, a group of women survivors, relatives and victims of the 12 years insurgency. The women had not given up hope and hundreds gathered together to demand information from the military about the whereabouts of their innocent missing men and called for their immediate release.
The network said thousands of men were still missing.
Hadiza Umar told RNI reporter Fatima Grema Modu that even though her son had gone missing eight years ago, she still had hope that they would be reunited.
“My son, Abour, disappeared eight years ago. He has eight children and I’m the one who has to look after them, doing domestic work to get money to buy foodstuffs and pay for their education. I have not been able to afford to send all of them to school, so some go to school and the others have to stay at home. I feel bad about it but I simply do not have funds to educate all the kids.”
She said every time she heard someone saying their loved one was being released, she prayed that her son would be one of them. “I wait and wait for him to return. I pray and I keep hoping.”
Hajja Fati Benisheik said: “My two sons, a cousin and another relative have been detained for more than nine years now. Since then my health has deteriorated. I still have to look after two other sons. But it was costing me a fortune, so I sent them to go live with their father. Since I fell ill, I still had to pay the rent, buy food and medicine. I used to knit and make clothes for other people’s children and I also made traditional incense. But, because of my health, I cannot do that anymore.”
She said she had to go and live in Fulatari, a camp for internally displaced persons. But she still had two grandsons she was looking after. “If my sons were released, they could help me.”
Hajja Gana Suleiman of Jire Dole Network said: “This organisation is all about having a voice so that our detained husbands and children will be released. We educate our children, they have a good upbringing – some were university students, some even bankers when they were detained. I can’t see how the government can let repentant Boko Haram members, who committed so many atrocities, to return to society and our men, who are innocent, are not being released.
Hamsatu Allamin, founder of the Allamin Foundation, said this was the fourth time the women had gathered together in the hope of getting their men released. Most of the women had no idea where their men were.
Allamin said members of the foundation had agreed to work hand in hand with the military and there was hope many more men would be released. “The army treated us like enemies in the past, but now they understand our mission. There are 25,000 men still missing.”
The mothers of the young men and boys will not stop campaigning to get their children back.
“All these women want is information, accountability and justice,” Allamin said.
AISHA JAMAL
