My fears for my Forgotten Friend
I was going through my news feed and I just found out that the Igbos (a major ethnic group that base in the south east of Nigeria) living in the northern side of Nigeria where the Hausas( another major ethnic group that base in the northern part of Nigeria) have been given a mandate to live the northern side before the 1st of October. The northern senators are giving their full approval for this mandate. I don't really know what this means but I am just sure of one thing. I am sure that it means that the Igbos living in the north will have to leave their source of livelihood and means of survival and come back empty-handed to a land which belongs to them and become paupers. I also know that if they fail to come back they might loose their lives. They will be slaughtered mercilessly.
Ruminating on these thoughts: how those that had set up their business in the north are going to feel, what will happen if they refuse to leave their fortunes and come back to the south east, what will also happen to the Hausas in the south east when the Igbos in the north are being killed. It took my down the memory lane in my third grade. I was barely eight years old and suddenly we were asked to leave our classes to go home. It was just 11:00am in the morning. We had more hours to go home but we were asked to leave because there was a massacre going on. The Igbos and the Hausas are fighting each other. The war that started many years ago has not ended. They still hated each other. I was picked up from school by my neighbor. I wondered if my mom was safe because I was safe with my brother. Few hours later everybody were safe in the house. I heard the full story from my mom who told me that the Igbos in the north were being killed and the Igbos in the south-east are retaliating by killing the Hausas in the south-east. The heads and private parts of Hausa men were being paraded by the vigilantee men( local security). I was scared for my friend, Mohammad. He was my childhood friend. I have always been an introvert who likes playing alone most times but he always comes by to my house to say hello or ask about me. His mom always jokingly calls me Mohammad's wife. After that incident that was the last I saw Mohammad. He didn't die but he left south-east for the main time. Years later during my high school days, my mom met Mohammad and he sent his greetings to me again like he always did. That was the last I heard about Mohammad.
Stories spread that the Hausas are part of the Bokoharam, that some Bokoharam has been shot dead. I can't help but wonder if Mohammad was still alive. If he joined the Bokoharam and then another thought tells me he's too good to kill a bug. I do not know what to believe anymore. My fears are taking over me. What if he was just living a normal life wherever he was or will he be among those to slaughter the Igbos that will not leave the northern side by October 1st. What if he was? Will I be able to talk to him ever if we ever meet again. Alas, I am not sure if I can remember what he looked like again. I do not even know his last name. I only have those memories and his name and just wonder if he is alright; also wondering if we would still be talking if he wasn't Hausa and a Muslim.