Afraid of losing his son to the marauding Fulani herdsmen, a palm wine brewer nearly sent his 12-year-old son to his early grave. The brewer named Daniel Qudus penultimate Tuesday narrated how the fear of herders in the South West zone made him seek help from a juju man who made the failed charm for him.
Qudus, who lives at Olorunda in Lagelu area of Ibadan, told the police: “I went to this man that I needed a gun charm. He demanded N1,000 but because we are friends, I later gave him N500. He gave me the charm and asked me to test it when I got home. I then asked my friend, Akinyemi Akinlolu, to help me test the charm on my son. I provided a gun, charm, and other logistics. He shot my son and he was almost killed. I actually took the steps to protect my son from some suspected Fulani herders who usually terrorise our area because my son comes back home late from the farm. So, I wanted to protect him from being killed by the Fulani”.
The incidents of failed bulletproof talismans have become very rampant in recent years. The victims of the failed charms are usually driven by the sense of self-help in the wake of security challenges posed by terrorists, bandits, kidnappers, armed robbers and allied criminals now swarming around the country like ants on sugar.
Let me recall a few instances:
In August 2012, a man, Ornguga Adega of Agbatse village in Kwande Local Government Area of Benue state, shot his only son dead in a bid to test the potency of his newly acquired bulletproof charm. According to the police, Adega procured the charm from a native doctor with the belief that it was potent enough to prevent the penetration of bullets into his body. He was said to have rubbed his “bulletproof” cream on the body of his son in order to verify its efficacy in line with the instructions of the native doctor from whom he bought the charm. That done, he opened fire on the hapless boy from his dane gun.
On October 23, 2017, a member of a vigilante group in Katsina, Audu Maikare, blew his own head to smithereens while testing a gun charm. The tragedy happened when the deceased and other members of the vigilante group gathered at their leaders’ house to observe a traditional ceremony and initiate new members. Maikare was said to have wrapped himself up in the charms, chanted some incantations, picked up his own dane gun and in the process of testing the gun charm shot himself to death.
On July 5, 2018, a self-styled Igbo traditional medicine man from Imo state kicked the bucket after one of his clients tested his bulletproof charms on him. The young juju man named Chinaka Adoezuwe, aged 26, had bedecked himself with the charms and ordered a man to open fire on him. The obedience cost him his life.
In January 2018, at Dutsinma, Katsina state, a native doctor named Saidu prepared a charm for his client who went by the name Yahuza. Little did he know that the charm was a yahoo concoction. He drank the stuff and positioned himself to be fired at point-blank range. The bullets rang out and located his chest. He died on the spot.
I should not forget another tragedy that occurred in Biu, Borno state, long before the hostilities of the Boko Haram escalated. According to media reports, one head of hunters (Sarkin Baka) was executed by a firing squad during a hunters’ funfair staged in honour of his daughter’s wedding.
Sources at the wedding said that the head hunter named Alhaji Suleiman Biu was famous for his magical prowess and ability to apprehend armed robbers in the locality. In keeping with tradition, all his co-hunters and local vigilante converged at the venue to showcase their bulletproof talismans by opening fire on themselves indiscriminately to the delight and awe of the guests.
In the midst of the shootout, the head hunter emerged, waltzed his way to the arena and ordered the gunmen to open fire on him. They gladly obeyed him. The arena was booming with gunfire and the onlookers cheered on as the bullets fell off his body in the manner that grains would ricochet against a concrete wall. Then suddenly, the Sarkin Baka who was in his mid-50s sank on his knees and slumped. One of the friendly bullets had defied the talismans he wore.
Generally, talismans are as old as creation. And because we all live in eternal fear of one danger or the other, we are quick to resort to self-help, unsure that the unseen God is up there to protect us or in the belief that God helps those who help themselves.
Talismans are employed for different purposes. Some use them for protection, some use them to commit crime, while others use them to win contracts, attract good luck, gain promotion at work and win a man or woman’s love.
But talismans, like drugs, do expire. Some can also be counterfeit as narrated above.
In the mid-70s, I received an invitation to visit a colleague in the present-day South-east during one of my annual vacations which did not take me abroad as was the practice. In order to use one stone (not a bullet) to shoot two birds, I decided to make the trip via my village to see my old mum. On the eve of my departure, one of my uncles named Suberu eavesdropped on a conversation I was having with my mum.
By the way, Suberu here is not a spelling error or a mispronunciation. My uncle was a Fulani by lineage but over the years while living among the Yoruba where his father, my maternal grandfather, a migrant from Ilorin, settled down, Zuberu became Suberu. The Yoruba do not have letter ‘Z’ in their alphabets. Hence you hear Saria for Zaria, Sungeru for Zungeru, Sebra for Zebra, etc.
Uncle Suberu pulled me aside and told me he heard about my trip to Igboland. He feared for my life because armed robbery had become rampant in the area, a fallout of the 30-month Civil War. To shorten a long story, my uncle delayed my trip so that I could be fortified for the dangerous trip. He got me three charms, namely ‘ayeta’ (bullet repellent), ‘okigbe’ (resistant to machete) and ‘oyin’ (stinging bees). My trip was delayed for three days to enable him put the charms together. He made sure I wore the ayeta and okigbe (mark you, not Okija) right from home.
The okigbe was an arm band. I felt at home with it because I was used to wearing a captain arm band during my primary school days at Abeokuta and when I led the Plateau state chapter of the SWAN XI in the 70s.
I hit the road, fearing no one. The ‘oyin’ charm was a ring which I had to wear in the event of an invasion by armed robbers. Before putting on the ring, I had to rub a charm with shea butter. If I scooped a handful of sand from the small carton I kept by my side and sprayed it in the direction of my attackers, each grain of the sand would turn to bees and sting them mercilessly.
My trip was very smooth. I did not encounter any robbers as if they already knew the danger of waylaying me on the highway. My return trip was equally smooth. But as the journey ebbed away from the dangerous territory, I became agitated and regretted not taking a speaking trumpet along with which to announce my presence on the road, challenging the highway robbers to come out and dare me.
For many years after the trip, I still kept the charms with me because dangers could strike at anytime and anywhere. Don’t ask me whether I am still in possession of the talismans. Even if I am, they must have expired by now and my uncle is long gone.
However, anytime I read the accounts of failed talismans, I usually shudder and wonder what would have happened to me if I encountered the robbers and Uncle Suberu’s charms failed to click. We did not even test the charms (not on me though) before my departure from the village to know their potency. Tanimola, his dog which was my hunting mate (remember it?), would have been a perfect guinea pig. I tell you.
