My condolences to all those who lost loved ones in defence of our constitution – they are martyrs. And for those who were injured, I wish them a miraculous recovery. However, given what I heard, there could probably be others who would be scarred for life, as a result of the extent of their injuries. I’m calling on all of us to take a proper look after them as well as their dependants.
There were unprecedented checks along major highways across the country, fourty-eight hours earlier. The personnel, military and police, were so polite they appealed to motorists and passengers to understand the inconveniences this might cause. As curious as we were, the officers didn’t give much away with regards their mission. But from the look of things, it was safe to suggest they were upto something security related, and it was of a much higher scale.
People in the informal sector had all gone home on Saturday hoping to return to their favourite business spots the following morning. Goodness knows how they must have felt when news of Sunday’s events started trickling in. With the social media of today, there’s absolutely no hiding place for events of such magnitude. Albeit most accounts are over the top, and can therefore not be independently verified. But with the radio and TV stations all down, what could have happened if our citizen journalists had not taken over? I’m so grateful there was one notable journalist, Umaru Fofanah, of the BBC, who was out and about to provide us with accurate information.
Apart from the regrettable human loss, something that is going to stay with us forever, I immediately started coming to terms with the economic fallout as the curfew wore on. It’s obvious a country that is on the development trajectory does not wholesomely go to sleep. Night and daytime businesses would have to trade places. Today, those eventful joints I used to frequent in Makeni have become cemeteries as the curfew digs in. Your guess is as good as mine what these temporarily unemployed people are going through.
One of those hardest hit is the hospitality industry. They have recorded cancellations effective immediately, and will run up to March next year – these are visitors who had had their bookings done and dusted. This one is not related to the curfew, but rather the security breach that was later upgraded as an attempt to unseat the legitimate government. Speaking to one of the hotel owners, he said barring a miracle, this is going to be the worst peak season, post war. He said he’d convinced his folks to come visit him from the UK, but the reverse is what it has turned out to be – he’s got to go to London. He said given the little space he had left to navigate, the safest option was to capitulate. I remember him telling me his folks jokingly asked him to commit to their safety, else he’ll have to oblige them.
There is no disputing the reasons that led to the imposition of the curfew. As a matter of fact, security precedes all anywhere in the world. It is of course the state’s core responsibility to protect all those under her jurisdiction. But as it has been repeatedly said in the official notices related to the curfew, that it will be reviewed as the situation necessitates, I’m drawing the attention of the authorities on the impact of the curfew on the poor, whose safety they set out to ensure at all cost.
