Letter from Awkuzu — As we #EndSARS

Ogunleye Damilare
11 min readOct 18, 2020

“History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups are more immoral than individuals.”

- Culled from “Letter from Birmingham Jail”, Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., April 16, 1963.

Photo by Tobi Oshinnaike on Unsplash

Welcome to #EndSARS, a series of decentralized organized protests powered by Nigerian youth. Since October 8, 2020, nation-wide protests on #EndSARS have rocked Nigeria, after weeks and years of outcry and anger against police brutality, harassment and extortion. Led predominantly by young Nigerians in multiple cities alongside many activists and celebrities, the call for the government to end the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS), a unit of the Nigerian Police Force, controversially known for police oppression, injustice and extrajudicial killings, has now become an enlightening moment for young people as they discover the power of their voices. This isn’t an account of #EndSARS happenings, rehashing of the many horror stories of evil perpetuated by men of this rogue unit, or an offering of solutions. Unless you live under the rock or willfully choose to be ignorant, there’s a plethora of content out there on any of the above.

Over the last couple of days, there have been growing voices of difference, from the older generation and a few from the younger generation, on the manner and trajectory of the protests. Some calling for young protesters to sheath the sword and take the little wins, some calling for leaders to emerge at the least for the sake of representation to negotiate with the government, some stoking fears that this quest will soon be hijacked and result in unfathomable violence or crackdowns, and some simply highlighting that the current system of daytime protests and nighttime carnivals are not sustainable ways to building a result-driven movement. I recognize the biases and backgrounds of the various voices, and through this lens understand the legitimate concerns of the individual calls been made.

Considering this is such a watershed moment in our collective history, I took time to reimagine another voice in time, whose writings influenced the civil rights movement, and what he might have had to say, if he was involved in the #EndSARS movement

Letter from Awkuzu SARS Jail

My Dear Fellow Nigerians,

While confined here in this dungeon, not fit for animals to live, I came across your recent tweet thread calling our present protests “unwise and unsustainable.” Seldom, if ever, have I considered it worthy to answer criticism of my work and walk towards justice. For if I did, the unprecedented wave of marches to #EndSARS wouldn’t have been born in the first place. But since I feel that some of you are men of genuine goodwill and your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I would like to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

First, I think I should give my reason for being in Awkuzu. Simple, injustice is here and so must I. I am compelled like the Apostles of the Christian faith to carry the gospel of justice and freedom beyond the bubbles I have built for myself in my megacity. I cannot sit idly by because I do not have a personal horror experience with the dreaded unit. Injustice anywhere is a threat to Justice everywhere. We are caught in an escapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with a narrow and selfish lens of nationhood, ignoring the ills of the land, inasmuch as we and our loved ones are spared. As we have now seen, just because you can afford to doesn’t mean all your relatives can avoid the plague of injustice.

Second, you deplore the demonstrations that are presently taking place, despite the concessions, if any, that the government has made in the last few days. I understand. However, I am surprised that your statement did not express a similar concern for the conditions that brought the demonstrations into being. I am sure that each of you would want to go beyond superficial social analysts who looks merely at effects, and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that these demonstrations are taking place at all, but I would say in more emphatic terms that it is even more unfortunate that our nation’s youth were left with no other alternative. In any nonviolent campaign, there are four basic steps: 1.) Collection of the facts to determine whether injustices are alive. 2.) Negotiation 3.) Self-Purification and 4.) Direct Action. On this issue we have gone through all of these steps. I am certain you are aware that #EndSARS wasn’t born this year.

It’s the repeated cycles of empty promises followed by an even brutal affront by men of the SARS that has led to this point. As victims of multiple broken promises, this notorious reality should shape any consciousness simply demanding that protesters get off the street and give the government time. Like so many experiences of the past, we are confronted with blasted hopes, the threat of an even more dangerous comeback and the lurking shadow of deep disappointment. So, we have had no alternative except that of staying the course of direct action and laying our case before the conscience of the local, national and international community. We were not unmindful of the difficulties involved, so we went through the process of self-purification and organization, arming ourselves with food, legal representation, medical services, storytelling, private security, mental therapy and most recently a call center to better manage the distribution of our meagre resources.

Third, you very well asked, “Why direct action? Why Protests? Why Marches? Isn’t negotiation a better path?”. You are exactly right in your call for negotiation. Indeed, this is the purpose of this direct action. Protests establish tension in such a manner that a community that has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issues. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. This type of constructive nonviolent tension is necessary for growth. So, why aren’t we negotiating, you ask? Because on this issue of police injustice, there is no negotiation to be had, just action from the government, evident enough in the court of public opinion. A kind of action that earns the government enough trust to bring us back to the negotiating table on the many other issues of injustices and inequality plaguing the land.

The oppressors with a track record of dashed promises, do not get a right to a show of faith, with a bone-throw of words to the oppressed, while they keep the meat of action from public glare. Or what is it with elected officials specialized in working behind the scenes? You are public servants, act publicly. We, therefore, concur with you in your call for negotiation, not on this issue, but on the many other issues portending to rise to the surface, only after when we believe our leaders can be trusted

Fourth, one of the basic questions in your statement was, “Why don’t we give the government time to act on the new promises made?” The only answer than I can give to such inquiry is that the demands being made are one as such that do not require a deluge of committees to act on. We will be sadly mistaken if we feel that these 10days of protests so far are enough to get the government to honor its promises. While 1 or 2 out of 36 states have started to posture as wanting to act, posturing and acting are very different things. More importantly, if wide spread anti-protest resistance across many states is anything to go by, there are no wins that have been made by the #EndSARS. I am happy to be wrong, but could you please point me in the direction of any credible outcomes so far?

History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups are more immoral than individuals. Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded and perceived to be enforced by the oppressed. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never”. It has been a tranquilizing palliative, relieving the emotional stress for a moment, only to give birth an ill-formed infant of frustration.

I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging facts of police injustice to say, “Wait. Give government time.” But when you have had a close shave with evil men of SARS, and how eerily you could easily have been a #KoladeJohnson stat, then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait for the government to act. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and people are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of injustice where they experience the bleakness of corroding despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

I must make two honest confession to you, my fellow Nigerians. First, I must confess over the last few years that I have been gravely disappointed by so many in the middle class; those of moderate privileges across generations. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the greatest stumbling block in our stride towards development as a nation, are not our insensitive and irresponsible leaders in government, but the middle class who is more devoted to “order” than to justice, who prefers negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your methods of protests”, who paternalistically feels that he can set the time-table for another man’s justice; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises others to wait until a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of goodwill is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

Law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice, but when they fail to do this, they come the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that this middle class would understand that this present tension is merely a necessary phase of transition from an obnoxious negative peace, where people accepted their fate because a police officer said there was nothing anybody could do about an injustice he metes out. Actually, these tensions didn’t begin a few days ago; they have existed long in the heads and hearts of people, and the protests only brought them to the open, where they can be seen and dealt with like a boil. You assert that our sustained actions, even though peaceful, often precipitates violence. But can this assertion be logically made? Isn’t this like condemning the robbed mad because his possession of money precipitated the evil act of robbery? Or a rape victim because her dressing precipitated the evil act of the rapist? It is immoral to urge an individual to withdraw his efforts to gain his basic constitutional rights because the quest precipitates violence.

I had also hoped that this group of people would reject the tragic myth of time. There is a strange irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time is neutral. I am coming to feel that people of ill-will have used time much more effectively than the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic word and actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people. We must come to see that human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and persistent work of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy, and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of injustice and poverty to the solid rock of human dignity and prosperity.

These protests stand in the middle of two opposing forces. One is a force of complacency, made up of Nigerians who, as a result of long years of injustice, have been so completely drained of self-respect and a sense of “somebodiness” that they adjusted to the state of the Nation, and, of a few others who, because of a degree of academic and economic security, and because at certain points, benefit directly and indirectly from the inequality in the land, have unconsciously become insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other force is one of bitterness, and hatred and becomes perilously close to advocating violence. This other group is nourished by the contemporary frustration over the continued injustice, lost faith in Nigeria, and have concluded that only violence can save the nation. If nothing, these protests have shown a more excellent way better than the “do-nothingism” of the complacent or despair of the frustrated. There is already so much pent-up angst in the land that if this wave of peaceful protests didn’t, a more violent strain may have erupted as we suddenly saw in the Xenophobia retaliatory attacks in Lagos.

Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever, the urge for freedom will eventually come. This is what has happened to the Nigerian youth. Something within, has reminded her of her birthright of freedom and justice; something without has reminded him that he can gain it. Consciously and unconsciously, they are moving with a sense of cosmic urgency towards the promise land of justice and prosperity. Recognizing this vital urge that has engulfed the Nigerian youth, one should readily understand why the public demonstrations are intensifying despite media amplification of promises by the political class. We have so many pent-up resentments and latent frustrations. Frustrations about a land of so much promises, yet keeps failing her young at every turn. We have to get them out. So, let us just march sometimes; let us have our carnivals as you have now christened them; understand why we must have our sit-ins at a time like this. If our repressed emotions do not come out in these nonviolent ways, they will come out in ominous expressions of violence. This is not a threat; it is a fact of History.

Never before have I written a letter this long, (or should I say a book?). I’m afraid that it is much too long to take your precious time. I can assure that it would have been much shorter if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else is there to do when you are alone for days in the harrowing dull monotony of a narrow jail cell other than write ling letters, think strange thoughts, and pray long prayers? I also hope this letter finds you well. I also hope that circumstances will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as a protesting youth, but as a fellow citizen of a prosperous land. Let us all hope that this movement not only ushers in an era of greatness for our nation but for the entire black race.

Yours for the cause of an Amazing Nigeria,

Martin Luther King, Jr.

This is the original “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”.

Special shoutout to all the heroes, named and unnamed involved in the current demand for accountability and action through #EndSARS.

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Ogunleye Damilare

Intrigued by the intersection of CPG + Retail + Marketing + Technology | Cofounder & CEO @ FoodLama (heyfoodlama.com) | History Buff