It was a Black Sunday; but it birthed a Beautiful Vision

Sunday, January 27th 2002 was a bright and beautiful day. Like any other day, it started with a soothing early morning dew and cool breeze. Then came the shining sun that brought so much warmth and goodwill. At about 4pm, the sun began to set and give way to a romantic evening. There was nothing to make anyone suspect it was going to be an unusual day for us and many residents of Lagos, Nigeria.It was barely three months after the painful death of my mother; my Jewel of Inestimable value. I was in the living room with some family members, having convened a family meeting to provide a platform for all of us to share and find a way to navigate through the lonely path that her departure had brought us to. One hour into the meeting, we heard a very loud and frightening noise; it came like a bang. Not knowing what to make of it, we sat still for a few minutes but soon continued with our discussion. Then, it came again. This time it was louder and even more frightening. The third bang came in quick succession, so much so that the ground on which we stood began to shake. At that instance, we couldn’t stay in our apartment anymore. My husband and son came out of their rooms in shock. We all, totaling nine people moved out of the apartment to see what was happening outside. And to our bewilderment, we met a huge crowd outside, neighbors and passers-by, all running helter skelter, seeking for a safe place to hide.The sky had suddenly turned black; with balls of fire falling like rockets; coming down with deafening noise. There was heavy smoke all over the place. We were later told that some bombs had been mistakenly detonated in a nearby military cantonment in Ikeja and every effort to stop it had failed, hence the sporadic blasts that rattled the neighboring communities. But at the time this was happening, we did not know. There was no hint as to what exactly went wrong. So, everybody began to run from one end of the street to another in search of refuge from the dooms day that had suddenly come upon us. Nobody wanted to be roasted by the balls of fire looming over our heads, threatening to fall. So, our journey began. We left our flat, joined the mammoth crowd and began a long walk to nowhere. We were all running for safety. At some point my family lost track of one another; the nine of us that left home had scattered into three groups. As we moved, we saw able bodied men, running out of their cars because the crowd would not let them pass. So, instead of being caught in the web of fire fall, they decided to jump out, abandon the car and run along with others.As we moved, you could hear people wailing from left and right. “I can’t find my child oh! My child is lost in the crowd. Please God, watch over him wherever he is”. That was the prayer on the lips of some mothers. Some children also echoed their lamentations- “Where is my daddy? Where is my mummy? I can’t find them. Somebody please help me!” Indeed it was a night of confusion and pandemonium. Husbands, wives, children, parents, siblings, aged, youths, children and everyone had been torn apart, not knowing where to turn to.At about 6.20pm, there was another blast that shook the ground and my husband suddenly fell. He made haste to get up to avoid being stampeded to death by the crowd. But to his dismay, he could no longer stand upright. His left knee had given way; there was a fracture and he could no longer move. I made haste to lift him up but could not. I stood there, wailing and calling for help. My younger brother who was with us, had to carry him on his back. You can imagine how difficult this would have been. But at this time, survival was the topmost thing on our minds; it didn’t matter whatever it would cost to get it.Unknown to us, this seeming disaster that slowed us down for some 15minutes was our saving grace. While we all stood there, trying to lift my husband and save him from the stampede, our co-runners that left us and hasted on soon found their way into the ditch that was later discovered to be a long stretch of carnal, covered with tender leaves. And this was the harbinger of death that claimed the lives of many innocent wanderers on that fateful day! As the night caught up with us, the sky above us became got darker than normal. It was now 7pm, by which time the journey that started from Mafoluku, in the Oshodi Local Government Area of Lagos had led many into the carnal in far away Oke-Afa, in Isolo Local Government Area. Over a thousand souls perished that night.My family was one of the fortunate few that did not go towards the carnal but my husband ended up in a nearby hospital where he received initial treatment. By the next day, a family friend came to take us to an orthopedic medical center in the heart of town. As we journeyed on that Monday morning, we saw heavy trucks, loaded with piles of corpses of men, women and children that had been pulled out of the carnal. At this instance, I became hysterical. I started screaming and crying; wondering how in a single night, so much disaster could have visited our community. My heart went out to the mothers who had suddenly become childless, the husbands, wives that had suddenly turned widows/widowers. Much more, I thought of the innocent children that had suddenly become fatherless, motherless and indeed orphans. What would become of these children? On this Monday morning, they are supposed to be in school; perhaps they have even ironed their uniforms and packed their bags the previous day, in readiness for school, not knowing they would not be able to make it.My heart bled as I thought of the fact that while it may be possible for the adults to get over this incident and move on, the little children that had suffered one loss or the other would be in utter shock and pain they cannot describe. Although my family escaped death, the injury my husband had as a result of the fractured leg was to make the next six months of that year quite harrowing. He was hospitalized for several weeks because doctors had to fix a cast on his left leg. And even after he was discharged from the hospital, he had to stay home for six months; immobile, walking with the aid of clutches and to a very great extent incapacitated. But through the tears, pain, depression and stress of caring for him during those six months, my heart kept going towards the little children that lost their parents that fateful Sunday. I felt they were the most vulnerable and that more than anyone else, they needed help. I saw the need to be voice for them; to help articulate their pain and loss and most importantly their need for love, acceptance and re-integration. How many there are today that are lost and abandoned? Our society is blessed with a huge chunk of the vulnerable and the streetwise children, going nowhere and looking forward to nothing. They sure need help; they need protection from all forms of abuse. They need care, love and guidance. They must be nurtured in an atmosphere of love and acceptance. It soon dawned on me that the orphans and vulnerable children around us do not need our sympathy. What they need most is our empathy. They must be loved and treated like all other children. They must be accepted and given a sense of belonging. They must be given a platform to showcase their innate talents and abilities. This understanding was what birthed Bestspring Children & Youth Development Foundation, a non-governmental, non-profit organization that advocates and cares for orphans and vulnerable children in Nigeria.At first the singular goal was to provide an avenue for these children to showcase their talents through our annual Joy to the World Charity Concert, which held every Christmas season. But with time, we saw the need to invest more into their education; this we inaugurated the Edu-care Scholarship Scheme. Today, aside providing for their educational needs, we provide psycho-social, nutritional and in some cases medical support to them. In all, the journey that started on that fateful Sunday evening of January 27th 2002 has today birthed a vision that is transforming lives and shaping the destinies of indigent children. One by one, we are healing their hurts, restoring hope, thereby making the world a better place for one and all.