“The Winning Streak” of #EndSARS.
2020 was certainly a very eventful year. Even though most of us spent large parts of the year (bound) at home, a lot of the happenings of 2020 left many of us dithering between stunned, jaded, relieved, weary, confused, angry, despondent and exhausted. On so many occasions, all of these emotions (and more) were happening at the same time. It felt like a constant barrage on our mental health and 2020 was a good description of what it meant to ‘roll with the punches’.
Notwithstanding, there were still a lot of good things that happened and I am grateful for my health, food on my table, clothes on my back and a warm shelter to call home. I do not take these blessings for granted because the stark contrast between my privileged reality and those of many others was all the more evident last year. It is upon this premise that I cautiously want to draw attention to what I call the ‘winning streak’ of the #EndSARS movement.
The protest in Nigeria started on the 3rd of October 2020 after a video went viral of a man allegedly being killed by the notorious Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) in the southern Delta state, sparking what became known as a nationwide #ENDSARS demonstration. Whilst the trigger for the demonstrations was a call to abolish this Polic Unit, it quickly mushroomed into a call for better governance and accountability.
The momentum of the movement was jubilant and infectious even igniting the passions of multitudes in the diaspora (like me) to visibly join the chorus of fairness, justice and equity. Social media went agog with all the stories of police brutality (verified or not). The generosity and charity of fellow Nigerians was immense and like nothing I have ever witnessed. The cooperation between creatives both local and international made for a very compelling narrative that galvanised the movement. The accountability of those who administered the funds generated was very commendable and fostered a belief that a better Nigeria was certainly possible. This movement felt RIGHT — one that history would be kind to and I wanted to be part of it. I went for one of the vigil services held at Trafalgar Square (London) and although it was a mixed crowd, it was still a very sombre evening.
The #EndSARS protest was a ubiquitous point of discussion within my sphere — from family WhatsApp group chats to zoom calls with friends, to even office water-cooler discussion with colleagues who are not Nigerians both young and old. The united disgust to the evil atrocities direct and indirect (especially due to corruption) was a welcomed relief in a 2020 where ‘common truth’ seemed distant. Regardless of what position you take on movement, the demand to end Police brutality and for more accountability in governance was and still is a just-cause worth fighting for.
Sadly, the largely peaceful demonstrations came to a violent end on the of 20th of October 2020 at the hands of military forces. By my count, there was a period of 18 days between the 3rd of October to the 20th of October where ‘good’ was on a sublime winning streak. This is where I want to pitch my tent — honour the memories of those lost to the struggle and recount those good days in the hopes that we might be able to find our way out of the apathy that the violence of Lekki 2020 left behind.
Interestingly, the protest happened at a time when I was actively researching my heritage through the eyes of both fictional, factual writings and documentaries. As such, I was keenly aware of the heavy-handed response to worthy uprisings in the past and I was weary that history was going to repeat itself on this occasion, which it sadly did.
Nigeria is Africa’s most populous nation with about 200 million people, 60% of whom are under the age of 24 and many of which are social-media active. The potent mix of youthful exuberance (exacerbated by high unemployment with a recent government statistic showing that 40% of Nigerians live in poverty) and easy access to social media gave a lot Nigerians the voice to defy a culture of deference that has unfortunately persisted for far too long.
The heavy-handed response to the protest (on the 20th of October 2020) led to a begrudging retreat to ‘business-as-usual’. For many Nigerians, there was a common chorus of “we will vote them out at the next general elections”. Apart from the fact that this kind of thinking often results in a ‘Messiah complex’ (with very mixed results), the next general election is due to be held in 2023 — that is still a long way off. Whilst I am a full advocate of exercising one’s right to vote, I am concerned that “…for a piece of bread a man will transgress” and there is a distinct likelihood of repeating previous mistakes in ‘electing’ subpar leaders. Thus, it is important we recount those good days and pay particular attention to the reasons for them in order that we may be able to (re)create those favourable conditions for good to thrive and go on a winning streak.
I know this may be tinted by my privilege but notwithstanding, here is a recount of some noteworthy points that I think fostered the winning streak through those 18 days.
The succinct and appealing nature of the cause eroded the cynicism I held towards positive change in Nigeria. There is a palpable sense of cynicism and suspicion that is ubiquitous when it comes to public service in Nigeria. As far as I am aware, the protest was largely peaceful and although there were several occasions during those 18 days when the protest could have turned into chaos, there was a collective will by the people to ensure that the movement did not implode. This must have been a surprise to most observers, including me. The longer the protest went on, the more coordinated it appeared. The longer the protest went on, the more it converted unbelievers into believers and the more galvanising it was. Indeed, the fact that the protest went on for as long as it did — relatively peaceful without imploding — was impressive. Those deep-seated doubts and cynicism I held towards positive change in Nigeria began to erode.
The cause of the protest was tangible, charismatic, and unshackling. It was different from previous protests where the cause was largely based on intangible ideals that almost felt like chasing rainbows. The effect of having a cause that was tangible as it was appealing helped to galvanise Nigerians both within Nigeria and in the diaspora. Many (especially the privileged) who were cynical about positive change in Nigeria gradually bought into the vision and were probably one of the major forces behind the flood of money that funded the protest. If they could not be at the forefront of the protest, they could at least play their part by funding it in whatever way they could.
There was no proverbial ‘head to cut-off’. The nature of the protest itself was decentralised across Nigeria with no singular leader. It is not unheard off that the ruling establishment will attempt to proverbially cut-off the head that embody the protest or the person(s) around which the cause of the protest coalesces. As Isaac Asimov will put it: “violence is the last refuge of the incompetent” which sadly could be attributed to the despicable scenes at the Lekki Tollgate on the 20th of October. There was no singular person that they could arrest, bribe, intimidate to squash the voices of the protesters. This must have been destabilising especially because they tried to cut-off the money supply by blocking/freezing the bank account where funds were being donated to and yet, the protest gathered even more momentum. The Nigerian youth is savvier and turned to Bitcoin — an arena where the establishment is not adequately equipped to combat on. The decentralised nature of the protest is indicative of the frustrations with the status-quo across the Nigerian spectrum regardless of ethnicity, class or faith.
The protest was bolstered by substantive information. There was a deliberate and concerted effort to enlighten, educate and inform the larger populace as to why the protest was needed. This ranged from the messages on rented billboards to notable social figures using their platforms to provide relevant information. In my opinion, as long as the dialogue (and education) passionately continues, there is an uncomfortable light that is shown on the severe structural and infrastructural problems within Nigeria that needs to be quickly fixed. For example, the fact that the typical Nigerian lawmaker is one of the world’s highest paid lawmakers (especially considering that 40% of the nation’s citizens are below the poverty line) is simply outrageous.
Furthermore, whilst the initial call of the protest was to abolish SARS, the dire plight of the Nigerian Police Force also came to full public view. Demonstrations inherently disrupt the routine within the larger community so as to bring to public view the cause(s) of a group of people that hitherto had been neglected. In this case, the dilapidating state of affairs of the Nigerian Police Force quickly became an accidental worthy cause that was included in the call of the protesters.
Finally, it will be remiss of me not to talk about the leading role that women played in organising, motivating, administering the protest. It was simply glorious! The attention to detail and the subtle way in which they were able to solicit and coordinate a largely peaceful demonstration should be rightly applauded.
The longer the protest went on, the more it brought out the best of us. The good in humanity was on display seeking to displace evil and its fear that had for so long mastered us. The stories of intimidation since this regrettable Lekki violence and the apportioning of blame between (former) comrades is indicative of the seeds of discord that only favour the status quo. As we remember the lives that were lost which spurred the protest and the innocent lives lost at the protest itself, it is important we (re)organise, get back to the drawing table and figure out how to (re)create favourable conditions for good to grow, thrive and go on a longer winning streak.
