by Ramatu Ada Ochekliye

Mr. President – finally, I get to call you that – I would like to congratulate you for winning the elections and eventually becoming the president of this nation. Congratulations again.

That being said, I want to get something out there; I really don’t like you. I don’t like some of your beliefs, some of your utterances and some of your (in)actions. This started just before the 2011 general elections and it didn’t get better afterwards.

Quite frankly, before your campaign in Zaria, Kaduna, I was quite indifferent about you. Your campaign posters, jingles and TV adverts on the platform of the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC) just didn’t connect to me and the moment you spoke, I was not moved by your speech quality (or the lack of it). You see, for me, those were the things that mattered in a campaign. Based on the strength of your campaign, I concluded that I didn’t want you as my president.

All that changed though when you came to Zaria. I was in school and heard that ‘Buhari is in town. Buhari ya shigo gari’. I really didn’t care until someone told me there was a little crisis on the Zaria-Kaduna Bridge. When I asked what the crisis was about, I was told that party supporters of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) were being attacked by supporters of the CPC. Their windscreens were broken and they were roughened up a bit. So drivers had to show loyalty to you to avoid attacks on themselves and their vehicles. Though I was worried about this development, I felt you didn’t know about it, so it wasn’t your fault. A few hours later when I was heading out of school, my view changed.

There in front of North Gate, Ahmadu Bello University was a mammoth crowd heralding you and your then running mate, Pastor Tunde Bakare. The crowd put the fear of GOD in my head. They were carrying all sorts of weapons, from curved wooden batons called ‘Gora’ to swords, knives and sticks. One sword particularly had me pretty jumpy. From what I hear, it is called a ‘langa langa’. It is slim, long and very flexible.

I was on an Okada and almost wet my pants when I spotted the campaign bus carrying you. You were exalted above the people, waving, smiling and generally doing what prospective leaders do. I remember that though I literally had my heart in my mouth, I couldn’t help but be disappointed that you, from your vantage point and seeing the weapons your supporters were wielding, weren’t doing anything to stop their hunger for blood…because to me, that is what it was.

When I finally got home, I had to lock myself and my sister in our room and stay quiet until everything became quiet. Even at that, I didn’t venture into the streets with any form of bravery. At that point, I called my sister and brother and told them that we would not stay in Zaria for the elections no matter the circumstance.