Demonstrators around the world have joined together to protest Nigeria’s Special Anti-Robbery Squad, a notorious police unit accused of extortion, harassment and murder of the citizens it was formed to protect. Read more about this controversial faction by writer Lydia Ume.
Editor’s Note: On October 11, the Nigerian government has disbanded SARS, but protestors in Nigeria and across the diaspora remain skeptical about true change.
On a roadtrip last November, my car was stopped by four men with guns slung over their shoulders and aimed at us. That stretch of road along Benin Expressway was flanked by bushes, and I first thought they were highway robbers. When one of them turned and I saw “SARS” inscribed on his t-shirt, I started scanning through my phone quickly to delete my bank apps and the app I use to communicate with my foreign co-workers.
On that day, I had left Lagos late and pooled with six other travelers to pay for a private car, which I was grateful for; it would mean fewer worries on the road and a faster trip. Instead, the new car was what caught the attention of these men and landed us in trouble. They ordered the driver to drive into a more secluded spot in the middle of a bush—so other travelers wouldn’t see what was going on.
In our car were two women (me and a lady who had a job interview in Ebonyi state the next day), three young guys who were headed to camp for their National Youth Service Corps orientation in Anambra, and a man in his late twenties who had just returned to Nigeria from South Africa. He had left in the wake of the xenophobic attacks there and told us that he couldn’t wait to see his mum.
The armed men searched our bags and when they saw my passport, they asked me where I was coming from. I explained I was returning from a conference and showed them a letter of authentication I was given by the organization and a booklet that had my name and bio printed in it. I was asked to step aside.
They searched the guys who were headed to camp; they didn’t find anything incriminating. When they got to the last guy, they asked him where he was coming from. When he replied “South Africa,” we all groaned; in that moment, we knew that it would be a while before they would let us go. They seized his phone. When they returned the phone about 30 minutes later, a picture of a gun that wasn’t there before handing it over had been saved on it. He was asked to either produce the gun or be charged with armed robbery.
After hours of pleading with them, they insisted on being paid ₦20,000 (approximately $52) before we were all let go.
As Warsan Shire says in her poem, “No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark.”
The Terror of SARS
Everyone in Nigeria has either been assaulted by the Special Anti-Robbery Squad, (better known as “SARS”) or knows someone who’s been. Sometimes, it’s both.
SARS is a special unit within the Nigerian Force that was formed in 1992 to combat armed robbery, kidnapping and other serious crimes but has morphed into a terrifying sect of legally armed men terrorizing Nigeria’s civilians.
For the last three years, the government has repeatedly banned SARS’s assault and harassment of citizens but the police unit has only grown bolder. “I go waste you and nobody go know, nothing go happen,” they threaten.
There is no specific marker for a SARS victim. Any young person with dreadlocks, dyed hair, or who owns a laptop, or drives a good car–anyone really–is at risk. You could simply run into them, which can result in the loss of your savings, or your life. Like me, many young people do not have their bank apps or keep transaction alerts on their phones anymore. Still, you can be taken to an ATM (most likely at gunpoint) while you withdraw all the money they can get their hands on.
People on their way to work have been kidnapped without the knowledge of friends or family; if they kill you, no one will know and nothing will happen. There are reports of friends and family disappearing for days and returning with bruises and beatings administered by SARS officials at best. At worst, some are found dead.
There are so many rotting in prisons for crimes they didn’t commit and the lack of finances to bail themselves out. Journalist Kemi Falodun started the POBIN Project, an online platform documenting the stories of Nigerians who have been impacted by police brutality in Nigeria. While there are some stories that make it to the news, more of them are the private sorrows of their family and friends.
Why is it so hard for the government to disband SARS?
At this point, it’s clear that the unit has gone rogue. For many Nigerians, while they’ve never experienced an armed robbery in their homes, their lives have otherwise been invaded and violated by members of the Nigerian Police Force. We live in fear of SARS more than the armed robbers they are supposed to protect us from.
Amnesty International reports that in “August 2018, the government set up a judicial commission of inquiry to investigate the activities of SARS and make recommendations for reform. However, the commission’s report has yet to be made public almost two years after the panel submitted its findings to the government.”
On October 7, the peaceful street protests against SARS and police brutality commenced and were only met with more violence. The police attacked protesters with tear gas and illegally arrested many; lives have been lost at various protests.
After days of silence, Nigeria’s president Muhammadu Buhari finally announced that he’d be instructing the country’s Inspector General of Police to reform SARS, but there are no actionable steps given by the administration… again. The Inspector of Police announced that it would be creating a new unit named SWAT to replace SARS. This is not the first time that the government has rebranded SARS by changing its name; in fact, this is the fifth time SARS has been “reformed” in five consecutive years. What is this reform they intend to carry out now that couldn’t have been implemented in the past?
The layered violence on women and queer people
SARS primarily terrorizes men but women and the LGBTQ+ community have also been targeted. Last month, Ifeoma Abugu was allegedly raped and murdered while in SARS custody in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital. Scores more women have been subjected to sexual assault at the hands of SARS.
When plans for the protest began on social media, it was regarded with apathy by many women and members of the LGBTQ+ community whose loud protests against police brutality and gendered violence had often been met with a mocking silence.
Last year, policemen in Abuja allegedly raped several women, using sachet water bags as make-shift condoms. Some of the women who had no money to bribe the policemen with were also charged with prostitution. This is just one of the many instances of gendered violence against women at the hands of the police in Nigeria.
During these protests, women have reported being harassed by men whom they are protesting alongside and their complaints were dismissed as a “feminist agenda” to disrupt the protest.
The week before the protest, some Nigerian men on Twitter mocked the oppression of women in Nigeria, tagging themselves “Patriarchy FC.” Victor Asemota, a leader in the local tech community, bought a Patriarchy FC domain, and a Patriarchy FC logo—of a man stepping on the back of a crawling woman—was also created.
Matthew Blaise, a queer activist, was doxxed online for representing queer persons during the protest and at the protest site in Abuja; other queer persons were harassed and told to not distract the protest because they flew the rainbow flag. Ironically, there are protesters who think it’s okay for the police to harass the LGBTQ+ community.
We cannot overlook the history of violence in Nigeria or our misogynistic cultural system and laws that normalise violence against minorities while fighting to end police brutality. The mismanagement of power cuts across all levels in our society, from the man in his house, to the man in the public office who should be answering to citizens.
Currently, #EndSARS is trending all over social media and the current protest is considered one of the largest that has happened in Nigeria in recent times. Despite the fraught anti-women beginnings of the protest, women have also joined and contributed heavily.
Rinu Oduala, a digital strategist, passionately and tirelessly showed up and spurred support at the first protest site in Lagos. Feyikemi Abudu of the ISWISD podcast raised over three million naira within three hours to feed protesters, cover medical bills for the injured and provide amenities. Kiki Mordi, an Emmy-nominated journalist, partnered with Gatefield TV to fund journalists who were covering the protest and also amplified the work of citizens who are protesting via technology (like the creators of Twitter bots that automatically send tweets to Nigerian political leaders, calling on them to disband SARS and reform the police). The Feminist Coalition has raised over 60 million naira and disbursed funds to those mobilising for protests across different cities in Nigeria among other things. As Oby Ezekwesili tweeted, the office of the citizen has never been more alive.
Notwithstanding, calls from quarters suggest that now isn’t the time to talk about the violence and abuse women face in Nigeria, but I don’t think there is a better time. Innocent Chizaram Ilodianya, writer and winner of the Commonwealth Short Story Prize in Africa succinctly notes that “if cis-het Nigerian men saw everyone else as full human beings whose pain, violence, and oppression should not be dismissed in this country, then we’ll move forward. Until then, we’ll be running in circles.”
For women and the LGBT+ community in Nigeria, we face multifarious aggressions and violence that need to be addressed and fought against with the same energy we are showing now. We cannot comfortably turn a blind eye to the actions of the police when it doesn’t centre straight men, there is no freedom until all of us are free.
I can only hope that Nigerian men show up as much for us when next we need them to lend their voice to our cause.
If you would like to donate to the #EndSARSprotest, kindly donate to the Feminist Coalition → https://feministcoalition2020.com/
