•How Ankara compounds identity problem for an ethnic group
By MUSA JIBRIL
Our bus was stopped by immigration officers, and the driver parked by the roadside. It was one of those ‘rainy days’ of June. Officers approached, greeted, peered into the bus, and randomly picked two passengers to whom they directed barrage of questions.
Simple questions that go on and on.
Where are you from? What is your local government? Blah, blah, blah.
Other passengers neither followed the train of questioning nor listened to the mumbled responses. Instead, they grumbled against their delay by the officers.
“Don’t delay us joo”
“What useless questions.”
“Do they look like foreigners?”
“See foreigner wey wan catch foreigner,” one of the passengers taunted the Immigration officer with tribal marks that screamed northern Nigeria.
“Na money he dey find.”
The officers remained calm, questioning the passengers both of whom wore dresses made from African print fabric popularly called Ankara.
Satisfied at last, he waved the driver away.
One of the passengers wondered aloud if there is some covert meaning to wearing Ankara.
“Yes o. It is like the national dress among the Egun-speaking people.”
“And, are Eguns illegal immigrants?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Who do you think those immigration officers are looking for? The Eguns, of course!” the man beside the driver announced with authority. “Egun lo daran. Ankara ni logo won.”
The Ogus, popularly called Egun are ethnic sub-group of Yoruba found in the Badagry axis of Lagos and in some parts of Ogun State. They constitute a significant population of Republic of Benin.
Saturday Sun spoke with some commuters who daily journey on the stretch of the road that connects Lagos State with the Republic of Benin.
The consensus: Anyone dressed in Ankara fabric who commutes between Seme and Agbara is likely to be singled-out for questioning by immigration officers on the road, on the average, at two of the five checkpoints.
Senami Modupe Hunpe, a resident on Ajagamibo Street, behind the community market, located on Aradagun-Imeke Road, calls herself a serial victim.
“They don’t have a manner of approach,” she says of Immigration officers at checkpoints. “Once they see someone in Ankara, they automatically take him for Egun from Benin. If we tell them we are Nigerians going to work, they fire the next question: “What work? Even when you bring an identity card, they will find another question to ask you. As long as you are perceived to be Egun, the questioning doesn’t end easily.”
This happens to her every day, morning and evening, at Sito and Gbaji, as she journeys from her house in Aradagun to her shop in Seme, at the border. Says she, “At times, I ask myself whether it is a crime to be an Egun?”
Taiwo Jogbenu says the practice is not recent. The farthest he could recall was 1994, during his first year at Lagos State Polytechnic (LASPOTECH) when at an immigration checkpoint, he and his friend, were asked to step out of the bus. His friend wore Ankara shirt, he remembers.
“When my friend queried why he was singled out, the answer he got was “You are from Cotonou. You are Egun.”’
He thinks there is a semblance of civility in the approaches of Immigration officers nowadays. The sentiment, however, has not changed, he claims.
“One Igbo Immigration Officer was especially unruly to me last month. He told me bluntly: ‘No be Cotonou you be, which kind Nigerian you be?’ I consider that insulting.”
Lekan Hunga, born and bred within the Badagry axis, works in Agbara Industrial Estate where he commutes to and fro daily from his Imeke home. “At times, I joke with the Immigration officers. They hardly single me out for questioning. I guess it is because I show my identity card without being asked or because I speak Yoruba without an accent. Mostly, they check randomly, but if you are wearing Ankara, naturally, you are suspect, whether you are Egun or not.”
Femi Nunayon, a carpenter in Badagry town further widens the perspective on the Egun identity problem. “Sometimes in April, I was going to Alaba International Market to buy some materials when our bus was stopped at the Agbara checkpoint. As soon as our bus parked, I knew the ordeal to expect. I wasn’t perturbed because I had been through it several times. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any identity card on me, though I have many––temporary voter’s card, national ID and association card. On that day, I wasn’t the only Egun on the bus. We were four. I was the only Nigerian. The other three were Beninese. Even without an identity card, I knew I’d have no problem convincing the Immigrations I am a bona fide Nigerian.”
According to him, two of the Beninese pretended to be Nigerians, and almost got away with it––because of their fluency in English and pidgin and their flawless Yoruba.
“One of the Immigration Officers asked one of the duo to recite his phone numbers. It turned out his two SIMs were Benin mobile numbers. At last, they confessed to being non-Nigerians.”
Fuhad Saheed, a native of Isale Eko, Lagos Island, grew up in Badagry and is familiar with the issue.
He disagrees with the notion that an ethnic group is a target of Immigration check. His belief: under the circumstance, it is natural that Eguns bear the brunt of immigration scrutiny in the effort to stem the flow of foreign immigrants.
Were he to blame anyone for the imbroglio, he would finger the system, for ‘lack of a systematic procedure.’ “I wonder how they (Immigration officers) can successfully distinguish Eguns of Adjase (Porto-Novo area) from those of Badagry? Perhaps the English accent will give away the Beninese. Perhaps not. There are times you find a very local Egun from Badagry who cannot speak English, and you’d have a Beninese who spent most of his time in the Nigerian territory and is therefore fluent in our lingua franca and other local languages. So I think the Nigerian mmigrations service approach is largely a trial-and-error procedure.”
Need for more civility
Nunayon has no reservation about checks for illegal immigrants. Rather, he argues against what he perceives as a biased disposition of officers towards Egun in the discharge of this duty. “We, Eguns, are one and the same people. It was just unfortunate we are split between two countries. Nigerian Immigrations Officers can borrow a leaf from their Beninese counterparts. The moment Beninese officers discern you are Egun, they take it easy with you. Nigerian Immigrations Officers are rather hostile and aggressive toward us.”
Hunpe wistfully relishes the treatment Nigerian Egun receives at the Benin side of the border: “There, simply saying Bonjour will get you across. If you are not French-speaking, speak Egun language and they will ask: Fite a san? Where are you from? and you are allowed free passage, unharassed. At worst you pay the stipulated price, N50 or N100 only.”
Jogbenu also concurs. “My father built a house in Cotonou. Recently, he took ill and we had to visit him daily. It was a great daily headache. We had no difficulty with the Beninese. Entering back into Nigeria, we had problems. Our problem was because we are Egun. The questioning goes on and on, aimlessly. Such treatment gives a typical Egun a sense of being different from other Nigerians.”
Understanding the motives for the check
To distinguish an Egun of Republic of Benin from one of Nigeria is not difficult for Immigration officers, avows Comptroller Adedeji Abiodun during a phone interview with Saturday Sun.
Comptroller Abiodun is in charge of the Lagos State Border Patrol Command. The querying, he says, serves a purpose. “There is always a point of distinction. Certain pronunciations give them away either as bona fide Nigerian or Beninese. We start by simple question––Where do you stay here? What do you do here? Where are you coming from? The range of questions depends on the checkpoint location. Questions immigration officers in Agbara ask someone they suspect are different from questions that will come from officers at Seme. This exchange allows them to detect the authenticity of the subject’s identity. Questions aside, a Nigerian will have something to show he is Egun from Nigeria.”
He emphatically debunks the idea of scapegoating an ethnic group, pointing out that some of the Immigration officers at the checkpoints are themselves Egun.
“Not all Eguns are Nigerians. If any migrated from Benin to live inside Nigeria, or vice versa, it means they have documents to that effect,” he says.
“Under the ECOWAS Protocol, you can move around within the ECOWAS sub-region, there is visa abolition, but you must have an identity, either ECOWAS travel certificate or passport, that would state your nationality.”
He also responds to the alleged disparity in the treatment of Egun by Nigerian Immigrations and their Beninese counterparts. His words: “Generally, Nigeria is viewed as a large market by neighbouring countries, therefore, any person that comes into Nigeria from the other side is reducing their burden. Such influx has political, economic and security implication for our country. We know the problem the country is still facing. We cannot afford to add to it due to avoidable error.” Comptroller Abiodun also points out: “There is migration crisis all over the world now as there are insurgencies, terrorism and human trafficking.”
According to him, while the migration crisis is global, some countries bear the brunt more than others.
“Because we are a large country, we cannot afford to overlook many things that are overlooked in the Republic of Benin,” he adds, stressing that “We cannot overlook security, hence, we must ask questions. If there is no need for it, why should officers be on the road?”
He concludes on this note: “An Egun who is not Nigerian need to possess documents that will identify him as a national of the Republic of Benin when he is in Nigerian territory. One that is Nigerian, while within Nigeria does not need to move about with passport. But it is prudent, for him, as it is for all Nigerians, to have some form of identity in case of any emergency or unforeseen circumstances, that may warrant an immediate identification