Mubarak Bala continues his story…
So, 24 hours after my abrupt abduction in Kaduna, some armed plain-clothes police officers came and picked me up in an old Golf car. They put me in handcuffs and they weren’t smiling. Before we zoomed off, at the insistence of the Kaduna police commander, they signed a document certifying that I had been handed over to them alive. The commander also took a picture of me. I knew what this meant.
We drove north for four hours on the express road which was empty due to the covid ban on interstate travel which the president had ordered and we arrived in Kano after sunset. I was dropped at police headquarters and my escort headed off to eat as it was Ramadan. An officer then interviewed me, asking about my life, my tribe, my religion and my career. He then turned to my humanism and I replied, guided by my philosophy and my conscience. The officer became visibly distressed and angry.
Eventually they removed the handcuffs and offered me food, but I had no appetite. I was then deposited in a cold, dark, damp cell. In the cell opposite mine there was a kid who had asked people to loot warehouses because the government was allocating the available covid medication to its friends, cronies and party loyalists.
The head of the police came later and took my written statement. He advised me to quietly convert to Islam and go home. I didn’t convert. He wasn’t happy.
The next day the police chief returned with a philosophy lecturer from the state university. This man preached to me and tried to reason with me, arguing that Islam was true, that Christianity was also true, and that atheism was wrong. I replied with rationalism but he wasn’t having any of it and he left. Then a cleric turned up followed by another person and then another, but I defeated all their ludicrous arguments. The police chief wasn’t happy.
For five days I wasn’t fed – no one remembered – but I wasn’t hungry. I asked only for water or I drank from the bathroom tap. My skin became to peel and rashes appeared.
Another lecturer turned up and held a brief ‘trial’. Despite not being a judge he denied me bail, handed down a prison sentence and left. I told the police chief that I knew the lecturer was not a judge. He responded by threatening me and asked why I wanted to be told people’s names. He asked me finally to convert to Islam. I said he’s need to show me evidence that genies are real. He failed to do so, signed a document and told me that I would be going to jail.
The police chief’s wife, who had taken to bringing me food, told me that they planned to keep me in custody for years. She hoped I would convert. I could see that she was emotionally moved by seeing me in my cell, and her husband did as well. He warned her jokingly that Kogi women would catch her. He meant my wife.
All the information she passed me turned out to be accurate. She even predicted the exact date that I would start my prison sentence – June 25th, 2020. She told me it had been decided to keep me in prison for years, or until I died. If other prisoners discovered who I was, they would murder me.
On the day that I was to be taken to the prison the police chief offered me a word of advice – probably at the behest of his wife. I should not deny whatever I was charged with in court, no matter what it was. I should admit guilt, apologise and express remorse. My life depended on it.
He then left, but immediately returned to repeat his advice. He said, “it’s your right” then corrected himself and said, “it’s your life”!
I was then handcuffed and taken to prison in a convoy of vehicles. As we travelled the police chief made calls to someone in authority about which of the two jails I should be dropped off at. At one point he pleaded that I should not be taken to one particular prison, but he was overruled. I concluded that the man in authority wanted me dead. I also concluded that he was someone in government or a powerful family member, and someone who didn’t want me to know his identity. But I did discover that….
To be continued
By Mubarak Bala
