Passionate Letter From Zakzaky's Oldest And Only Surviving Son To Nigerians


Enough Is Enough: A Letter
From Mohammed Zakzaky,
Son Of Shiite Leader Ibrahim
Zakzaky Sahara Reporters
There is a childhood memory
that I have never been able to
lose touch with, it is personal,
intimately so, I do not like
sharing it. But I feel that considering my current
circumstances its best I share it,
especially considering that in life
I have lost almost all the things
that constitute my reason for
being. I have eventually lost, and it is very clear that I can lose
anything else, all by the virtue of
ending up as a Nigerian.
There is a childhood memory that I have never been able to
lose touch with, it is personal,
intimately so, I do not like
sharing it. But I feel that
considering my current
circumstances its best I share it, especially considering that in life
I have lost almost all the things
that constitute my reason for
being. I have eventually lost, and
it is very clear that I can lose
anything else, all by the virtue of ending up as a Nigerian.
I am Mohammed Ibraheem,
known to my friends as
Ibraheem affixed with my
numerous nicknames. I was
possibly 6 years old, we lived in a three bedroom, two sitting
room, one kitchen, one garage,
back garden and front yard
house. That house was plagued
by brown rats; two of which got
trapped in a water tank in the kitchen, so that they could not
swim out of the water, and leap
to safety.
Everyone was so enraged by
them, and rightly so, for these
foreign Rats can be so fearfully annoying, plus they once
chewed the soles off my
mother’s feet. The two rats must
have lasted long, for by the time
they were discovered, they really
were too exhausted to run, I don’t remember what went on
before the fact, all I know is that
they were ushered out of the
water and successfully marched
on what must have been rat
miles all the way to the back garden. I was then given a stick
by the nanny and told to kill one
of them. In an unforgettable act,
after a little hesitation I hit the
rat, after being mocked and
taunted for being too soft. I still remember the look in the eyes of
that rat looking up at me after I
hit him, it haunts me to this day.
The gleeful murder of a
mischievous rat is a truly un-
forgettable experience for me, much as I can imagine it I cannot
see myself killing anything larger
than a mosquito or house fly
without guilt, yet it was men
armed to the teeth who have
slaughtered all of my brothers, and multiples of men, women
and children along with them, as
if they were nothing. Doctors,
Nurses, Engineers, Technicians,
Journalists, men and women of
all professions, there were even boys and girls among them, like
(karofi) a one week old
University of Greenwich
graduate, students whose only
aspiration was to make beautiful
dreams come true; Friends, Families, the old and the young,
all brutally slaughtered by an
army that was suppose to
protect them!
A few days ago it was
announced that the commission established by the Kaduna State
Government, submitted a report
on its findings, on the massacre
and destruction visited upon
innocent people by elements
representing the Nigerian Army, in which over a thousand people
are missing, over three hundred
and forty people were
admittedly buried in a mass
grave, hundreds were arrested
and hundreds of millions worth in property destroyed. Having
followed the commission’s
sessions with interest I watched
as it slowly degenerated from a
commission of enquiry into a
case of murder and destruction, being convoluted into a
commission whose focus
seemed to only be a sectarian
one. Although the movement
sent no representatives, I am yet
to read its findings as it is yet to be publicized.
Prior to that in an unusual twist,
the custodians/captors/
detainers of my parents, the DSS
claimed that my father, is being
kept in "protective custody" "because he is a vulnerable
individual" and according to
their lawyer it is the DSS’s duty to
provide protection to vulnerable
citizens! Adding salt to injury,
they further even claimed to have spent five million Naira on
his health alone. It is unbearably
hard enough that I’ve had to
watch helplessly as they killed all
those innocent people including
my three remaining brothers. But this claim was the worst
affront to my sense of self, more
painfully insulting than all before
it. Ever since the statement was
made I have made several
attempts to type a response each time I begin to type my fingers
shake from excess of wrath,
anger, despair and the all too
fresh realization of the truly
unbelievable depths of
insincerity, hypocrisy and cruelty. I always think and
question the humanity of the
cabal that masterminded the
ZariaMassacre. How can it be
rationally explained that we
share the same taxonomy as this brutal breed of beasts wearing
the uniform of the Nigerian army
who executed this inhuman
This is a most grievous insult, the
gravity of which is unfathomable to say the least. Although my
parents are not being held in a
prison cell, they are certainly not
living in a comfortable state, nor
are they ‘Safe.’ In the eight
months since the ‘Nigerian Army’ killed and secretly buried over a
thousand people including my
three brothers, my aunt and a lot
of the people I hold most dear,
while also shooting my mother 7
times and depriving my father of an eye as well as crippling his
arm and leg, the DSS which
claims to be "protecting him" has
also denied him access to his
doctors, legal counsel, and has
only allowed us to visit only when it suited them. In the past
eight months I’ve driven to
Abuja, several times only to be
turned back. Yet these people
have the rudeness to post my
picture in the media to give credence to the idea that all is
well, insulting us in the most
cowardly of ways. I am thirty
years old, I earned my first five
million Naira when I was still a
university student, yet my own father the one who brought me
into this world, after being so
injured, physically, emotionally
and worst of all deprived of even
the most basic of human rights is
being charitably expended upon with five million Naira
(gratitude for the generosity of
the masters of murderous
As his sight continues to fail day
by day the DSS continues to refuse, under the guise of
bureaucratic excuses, our
request that a known qualified
doctor be allowed to attend to
him. And then there is the
visitation rights, in eight months I have only been allowed to visit
four times, but we have been
stood up in Abuja for twice as
many times. Then there is the
fact that even though my father
is currently incarcerated, it is he who pays for his expenses
down to the fuel for the
generator in the place where he
is being held, not to mention the
extortionist behavior of some of
the agents in charge of handling my parents. In our fourth and
final visit which was yesterday,
they brought in a professional
camera man sporting a nice SLR
(Single-lens reflex Camera or;
Fancy Cameras in Short) to rudely take more of these
propagandist pictures designed
to deceive the people about the
true nature of what is going on,
I’m sure you’ll be seeing them in
the papers soon enough. Then there is his health,
specifically the health of his last
remaining eye, which is already
half blind. The attending single
doctor whose name and
qualification I do not know, nor has the DSS informed me, has
already arbitrarily and single
handedly proscribed one of his
eyes as lost for good, without
recourse to a second opinion.
Granted in father’s own words, he does "appreciate" the
doctor’s efforts, and the courtesy
of certain members of the DSS, I
for one am not grateful, I cannot
be. I deserve answers we all do.
If the DSS that is a Government organization of fundamental
importance, is proudly insulting
me by claiming to be spending
five million Naira for my father,
Ibraheem Zakzaky has a son
who is alive and willing to spend multiples of that amount (and I
can afford it), for his Father. But I
cannot, because the opportunity
to do such things for my father is
blocked by the ‘Dutifully
Protective Custodians.’ DPC. (Death Prospecting Cooperation)
If they really are just protecting
my father as their lawyer has
claimed, then I would want to
ask them the following unanswered questions; firstly:
What form of a threat is the visit
of Family Members? What form of
a threat is the visit of doctors?
What threat does my father’s
access to his lawyers constitute? Considering the impending and
dangerous situation threatening
to turn him blind, why are no
doctors allowed? Why do they
assault us with SLRs when all we
want is to be able to attend to our flesh and blood? And why
should I continue to play the
silently grateful son of the guest
who is actually more like a
hostage? As my fingers shiver
lest harm come to my parents for speaking the truth I would
finally ask you what I have been
asking myself, Can I entrust the
truth to my tongue?
When I was a child I grew up on
the tales of heroes and great men, and I truly did aspire to be
more like some of my favorite
heroes and great men, I even
used to think who wouldn’t. One
thing that they all had in
common though; was that they all had something of worth
whether it was an idea, a person
or a thing, these great men and
women were willing to risk all
for that one thing. In the titanic
and everlasting struggle that is good versus evil, justice versus
in injustice, the fair versus the
I have found myself powerless
to save my brothers all of whom
are now with God. I have found it beyond my means, to protect
my own mother. I have no
power to protect what I care for,
I live in a country where those
whose job was to protect have
become mindless predators. I have no protection against these
serpents. I only have myself, my
hands and my feet, there is
nothing I can do. I have so few
tools at my disposal, in spite my
most optimistic efforts, I have come to the conclusion that the
evil that has taken my brothers,
my family, and has kidnapped
my mother and my father, and
placed them in a hostage
situation, and is killing them slowly, seems to understand no
language, that I know or
understand. As my father is
systematically and slowly being
reduced to total blindness, I am
becoming desperate. It is true that I am weak and
powerless in the face of such
unfathomable levels of evil
madness, reckless hatred,
extreme prejudice and limitless
inhumanity. The only thing I can do now is to complain, to
protest, and protest by any
means available. As I gradually
lose all my senses due to worry,
I find myself increasingly losing
all hope of recourse to reason and feel ever increasingly
compelled towards necessity. If
violence and irrationalism is a
strength, I don’t have it, I still
regret killing that rat. I am
incapable of breaking my own innocence. I cannot kill without
remorse. I was born of a father
who could never ever condone
the path of wrath, even at the
cost of his sight.
I want to call all those who believe in the inalienable right of
all human beings to fairness,
justice and dignity, to help by
joining me in a redoubled effort.
We must protest this seemingly
never ending series of outrages, we must make our voices heard.
We must act before it is too late,
we must demonstrate wherever
we are able. I for one will walk
alone on my two feet from my
father’s house in Zaria to Abuja if I have to, I will sit in front of any
office for as long as it takes, I will
stop eating and drinking for as
long as it takes.
As God is my witness there is no
time. My father needs access to doctors now! Right Now. As God
is my witness I swear that
having survived the
unthinkable, my father is
currently being wearied down
into a blind man, he is being slowly crippled, destroyed.
Compliments of the DSS and co.
enough is enough. Post the
dammed pictures make all the
lies but do not insult us, let us
send doctors, let us save my father’s eye.