•Narrate how they were driven out of their ancestral land, FCT built on it, left in abject poverty

Almost half a century after the Nigerian capital was moved from Lagos to Abuja, indigenous people in the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) continue to fight for recognition amidst poverty, misery, historic injustice and a thin hope of salvation, Adewale Adeoye reports

Endangered livelihoods

As Dr Ibrahim Zikirullahi spoke to the global community at the 18th session of the Expert Mechanism on the Rights of indigenous peoples held at Palais des Nations in Geneva on the plight of Abuja first inhabitants, the audience paid rapt attention.

“Their traditional livelihoods – farming, fishing, hunting and craftsmanship – are endangered by unchecked urban sprawl and ecological degradation”, he told world leaders that came from over 100 countries.

It was only In recent times that the world is getting to know about the plight of Abuja original inhabitants.

Their travails, Zikirullahi said, are full of pain, anguish, intrigues and filled with betrayal too.

The military government moved the capital of Nigeria from Lagos to Abuja in 1976, opening up growth and a charming city, but on its trail lay blood, sorrows and misery.

In 1976, the vast land of 7, 315 square kilometers was taken by military fiat, with little or no compensation.

One very old man in his late 80s told our correspondent last week in a village in Abuja that only N20, 000 was paid to the family that owned the land on which Aso-Rock, the seat of power of Africa’s largest democracy, a place where decisions are made that must affect 200 million Nigerians, was built.

The sites on whichh the current Millennium Park and the National Assembly are built were formerly known to the indigenous people as Kpedna, while the Aso Rock site was known to them as Wughigyipe, said Isaac David, of Abuja Youth Original Inhabitants.

The Abuja indigenous person spoke to our correspondent from his residence. What he and his family of six call their home is a shanty, located in the outskirts of Abuja, buried in the midst of a forest. The toilet is carved in a small bush nearby; the bathroom, an open space built with palm fronts.

What serves as the living room has no roof; a stretch of dry bamboo built around an old tree.

The top of the tree has been taken over by noisy birds that occupy the space at nightfall, leaving in the morning in search for their livelihood.

Family members are now reluctant employees of the little birds that send down waste, leaving the family to clean up daily.

“Our relationship with the birds is symbiotic. They send down their wastes which we use as manure while they also feed on our crops nearby”, Silas Yakubu the head of the family, told our correspondent.

He Is of the Koro ethnic stock, his mother is ethnic Gbagyi, some of the over six ethnic nations whose ancestors were the first to settle in what is now known as Abuja, thousands of years ago.

Bath before dawn

He said each member of the family must bath before dawn to avoid the prying eyes of workers scurrying to their work places through the nearby bush path. Ironically, his poverty, and that of millions of people in the same situation, remains a product of the military take-over of indigenous land.

In the 1970s, his family had hectares of land in Abuja that by the current standards should be worth over $200, 000.But one day in 1976, his story from grace to grass began, leading to an almost irreversible misery.

He was barely 21 In 1976.He had no formal education.

At that period, Yakubu said there was neither primary nor secondary school where he lived.

At 70, his instinct and memory remain as sharp as razor.

The late General Murtala Muhammed came to power on February 13, 1976.

Scavengers

He spent only six months before he was murdered but not until he had moved the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) to Abuja from Lagos, displacing millions of indigenous peoples many of who are, today, scavengers on their own land.

Yakubu is just one victim out of millions of displaced families.

Old, emaciated Dauda Usman, now 90, recalled the stern voice of late Murtala Muhammed that rang through the Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria (FRCN) when he took over power.

He recalled how his now late parents told him Murtala would fight corruption and stem the drift of Nigeria into wasteful spending under then-post-war military government.

“I was full of hope. I loved his revolutionary zeal, but never knew our people would be his first victim”, Pa Dauda said, speaking through an interpreter.

He said If there was any swift project implemented by Murtala Muhammed, it was the movement of the Federal Capital to Abuja, a feat he achieved within six months of his taking over the country.

That single step changed the fortunes of generations.

Now 69 and struck by stroke and diabetics, Dauda’s wife said the indigenous people in Abuja were not part of the discussion of a policy that uprooted a thousand-year history.

“Many of us never heard of the plan to take over our land,” he said.

There were no engagements, no dialogue, no consultation with the over one million people that at that time lived in the affected territories that stretched to Plateau, Nasarawa, Kaduna and Niger States.

She said her ancestors had lived and died in the land that belonged to them for thousands of years.

She would not forget the day that a thousand-year history went up in flames. “They were about 50 soldiers.”

She recalled they came at sun down when most people were returning from their farms, old and young men, hunters, haggling women and defenceless little children alike.

It was in 1979. She said the soldiers asked them to split into two, about 200 rural dwellers in the community.

Those who wanted to stay in the community and be compensated on the right hand, those who wanted to relocate to any unknown destination on the other, the soldiers ordered.

They had only 10 minutes to decide.

“The soldiers were armed. Out of fear, majority of the people chose to leave.”

She said a few who said they wanted to stay back and be compensated were rounded up and taken away.

They did not return until the second day. There was no compensation. The soldiers promised they would return and take over the land and that resistance would be met with “shooting.”

Fleeing

he second day, close to 200 people fled with their families, relocating deeper into the forest while some moved to what is now known as Nasarawa.

For the family of Dako Abu, armed soldiers simply constructed security posts on their ancestral land and told them to quit and never to return.

The lips of many families drip with stories of suffocating pains.

Since 1976, Abuja has grown from that obscured bush into one of Africa’s greatest and most beautiful city.

But the original inhabitants of this magnificent city say successive governments have been unfair to them and that the original owners of the land either got peanuts or nothing at all. Today, the FCT has land area of 7,315 dotted with mountains, plains and hills encircled by charming Savannah vegetation with several lakes and snaky streams traversing the fascinating landscape.

The land is undulating, sometimes turning into a vast valley, a stretch of endless tributaries, which captivates with its beauty reflected in the horizon of the velvet-like evening, soothing sun. “It’s our land, our history, our soul, our spirituality. They took it away by force”, Baba Salisu, 92, said, the deep sockets of his eyes drenched in tears.

Apart from land seizure, they also face the crisis of identity. They cannot elect a governor or vote for state House of Assembly lawmakers, rendering them stateless. However, gaining access to state-driven opportunities requires a state of origin.

This is apart from the lack of jobs and recognition by thousands of private and government enterprises established on their ancestral land. (Sunday Vanguard)